Shout out to Teddy-wabbitz, you're so awesome! And I'm sorry that I lied saying that I would publish this chapter yesterday, but my horsie got sick. D: But look! I brought back a dead Autobot to appease you! And a long chapter! *sprinkles confetti everywhere*

But give it up for chapter ten! Time to partay!

De-Brief:

GY: A GY, a gray, is the SI unit used to measure the amount of ionizing radiation that is absorbed.

-…

Transformers: The Eye of Icarus

Chapter Ten: Thrown at the Feet

-…

"I'll fine them," I would promise him, "and I'll save them all."

Putting it lightly, the drive to the Department of Human Health and Services could have gone better. Both of her nostrils were bleeding so severely that the tissues she brought with her weren't enough, forcing her to keep her black sweatshirt sleeve to try ad stop it. Mark wasn't helping by his screeching to not get the blood over the inside of the car. Her body didn't like her moving either, headache and nausea coming back with a vengeance. Then came the threats of him throwing her out of the car if she threw up. Quickly, she was reduced to a curled up, unhappy, back-talking girl who wanted to punch something. In her condition, she paid no heed to how he was driving or where he was going even. What she needed to worry about was trying to keep her nausea and trying to stop her double nosebleed (she couldn't tell if it was stopping). The car abruptly stopped, meaning her trip through hell was over. Mark got out, slamming the door shut before striding over to her side and abruptly opening the door. "Get out." He ordered, voice thin.

"You don't have to tell me twice." She growled back, ripping her seatbelt off and stumbled out, figuring Mark would keep chastising her. It was amusing to to let him chew her out and then become even more aggravated when she didn't respond. They steadily began to walk, Gloria to the left and Mark to the right, across an open area with gravel laid down. Small brown grasses jutted up between gravel as a way to defy the industry that they had submerged themselves into. The stiff breeze that briskly moved the grey clouds overhead brushed against them. The cold was helping settle Gloria's stomach, allowing her to try and collect herself. They kept parallel to a large building on their right. Mark tugged on his bow tie to let it come undone, suddenly on edge. For a moment she thought his figure flickered briefly, but she thought it was because she was sick. Human compassion made her want to see if her was alright, but something gnawed in her stomach that said it was best to let him be. They were nearly the end of the building and he became more restless. His longer legs carried him farther and suddenly turned the corner of the building. "Hey!" She shouted, sleeve muffling her voice. Angrily, she went up to an uncoordinated run to make the corner and found herself alone. Seeing that the end of the building was open, she figured that he could have gone inside without her. How ungrateful. The sound of a rather loud conversation floated out from the open doors and into the open area of land. Taking a new patch of sweatshirt sleeve under her nose, she briskly walked inside what was actually a hanger.

"Sideswipe, you know you weren't given permission to bring the human back to base." The sentence trailed off when he saw her. It honestly took a moment for Gloria to realize what was in front of her. A giant black mechanical robot was in the hanger, talking to Mark. A giant black robot. A robot. Eyes glued themselves to the giant mech, refusing to look away. Her left leg felt pinned under debris and freshly broken, her back tensed as if flinching from the burning metal of a car behind her. She covered her right eye protectively, shying away as her body remembered what had happened to it the last time she had seen one. Memories flung themselves upwards to bring them back into light- and detail. She knew she wasn't in Chicago, but how come she could smell burnt human flesh and wanted to choke against the smoke? Her mind locked up, primitive instinct fighting its way to the top and telling her to run. This shouldn't be happening. It couldn't be happening. Not again. Hadn't she gone though enough of hell as punishment? It took a step towards her, saying something that she didn't register before blacking out.

…..

"Well, you've sure got yourself a keeper, Sideswipe." Ironhide tried to inject some humor into the awkward situation.

"Something like that." He mumbled, his holoform rubbed his temples in mild frustration at himself for not expecting that kind of reaction. The soldiers who had been previously checking Ironhide's systems were now with Gloria to make sure she was okay.

"I hope whatever reason you brought her is good enough to stand up to his inspection." He motioned to the right with his massive head and transforming into his altmode just as footsteps loudly announced the presence of the said man.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" Donovan inquired, voice dangerous as he approached Sideswipe's holoform, looking at the girl on the ground. "What's she doing here? And why is she on the floor of my hanger?"

"I brought her here." Sideswipe's holoform didn't elaborate. The one thing he didn't like about this 'bot was how he always acted like he was better than him. Even his holoform oozed that same attitude.

"And why, might I ask, did you decide to bring here here?" He probed, seeing that Gloria was coming back from unconsciousness just as one of the base's nurses came over to check on her condition.

"She's ill." Again with the curt, defiant response. Another thing Donovan hated were responses that didn't give him answers to his questions.

"It seems like you don't know humans that well, Autobot. They get ill often and turn out fine. You better take her back home and keep on your babysitting duties before-" The holoform cut him off.

"She thinks it's because of the eye. And I've never seen a person ill like this before." He ignored the look Donovan gave him.

"And what, might I ask, makes her think that she's ill because of that?" It was amazing just how easily his patience wore away when talking to Sideswipe.

"She said she had a feeling-" Donovan raised a finger to stop him, pushing another button.

"'A feeling'?" Sideswipe nodded. Donovan chuckled. "A feeling? Just what is going through that thick CPU of yours that lets you think that because she has a 'feeling' about something, you can just bring her into a NEST location like it's some kind of health clinic? This is a advanced military branch that finds, hunts, and destroys the threats you've brought to our planet. Not treating some civilian who has a cold."
"She's been seeing things." For once, Donovan was silent at backtalk. "What?" He asked. Sideswipe felt triumphant, seeing Donovan was mildly interested.

"Every night since she gave the eye to be studied, she's been dreaming about ships and writing down symbols. Both seem Cybertronian in nature with what she's described to me and what I've been shown. The symbols she's been writing are Autobot glyphs, I can read them."

"What do they say?" Yes Donovan was interested now. He seemed like he might forgive Sideswipe for the lap in security protocols.

"How about we go ask her, she seems like she's up now. Sir." He added to the end, falling from his holoform's lips like a curse. Donovan tolerated the sass to really get a look at the girl, who was removing her jacket so the nurse could get some vitals on her: he had to admit she had seen better days. Dark bags under the eyes from the lack of sleep didn't pair well her unusual vigilance of what was around her. The bandage over her right forearm hadn't been there when he had last seen her..

"Miss Sullivan," her head turned to look at Donovan, "it seems like you have an appointment with me. Care to join me in my office?"

…..

Of course, when he said his office it would mean the interrogation room. Gloria thought bitterly, leaning on the back legs of her chair. The room she was seated in was larger than the pervious one, holding a large metal round table that was welded to the floor. Her tongue ran along the back of her teeth in agitation while she waited for Donovan to arrive. She was appreciative that the medical personnel had treated the wounds on her right forearm. She hadn't been out for too long, just a brief plunge into the water that was the unconscious before leaping back out. She was quietly reeling, unsure whether to deny what she had seen as a strange hallucination (which she wanted to do) or try to accept the possibility of having seen something straight from her nightmares.

The door opened, announcing Donovan's arrival. She saw that he held her medical records in his hands along with several similar files under his arm. Two armed men walked in, flanking him as he sat down while a third man took his position beside her. Donovan casually opened a file in front of him and examined a passage. "It says here under psychiatric conditions that you suffer from PTSD and depression." His eyes looked at her briefly to note the discomfort on her face. He pulled out a thinner chart and opened, flicking several pages down and read out loud. "When I look at the psychiatrist explanations for why you take depression medications and the origins of your PTSD, I see that he has clearly explained that 'depression stems from PTSD. ASR upgraded to PTSD due to symptoms persisting over a month as of 6-23. The following have been recurring symptoms to confirm diagnosis'." He stopped reading, looking at her. "Funny thing is, nothing's in the charts about writing symbols on papers or walls. Your brother, parents, and grandparents never experienced that either." Her face blanched at what he said.
"Where did you hear that?" Her voice was small.
"That doesn't matter, what apparently matters is what you have in that bag of yours. I'll listen." Closing her chart, he watched as she pulled the bag into her lap and pulled out a notebook and looseleaf. "The remains of the notebooks I had." She slid them across the table, watching him flip over the tattered and torn out with an unreadable expression. "I also have a camera with photos of the walls in my room that I wrote on." She added as she slid the camera across next, watching him as he went through the library. Finally putting the camera down on the table, he looked at her again with unexpected curiosity. "So what is the point of your little show-and-tell with me?" He asked, relatively bored. Swallowing hard, she gathered her resolve to ask the burning question in her heart.

"I want the eye back." It felt like she was asking a brick wall for food.

"I didn't take you as an Indian giver." Donovan calmly observed, leaning forwards in his chair.

"I didn't take myself as someone who would be waking up and finding I spent the whole night scrawling these symbols all over the walls of my aunt's guest bedroom and into my arm." She tone of voice lowered to a dangerous pitch, seeing he wasn't going to budge so easily. He picked through some of the pages of text she had written, unmoved. Her blood silently boiled with how apathetic he seemed at her plight. Tearing the bandage off her arm, she showed him the evidence carved into her right forearm. "And why did you want to show me this?" He asked, unfazed. She slammed her fists onto the table. "Because," she growled, "I want my eye back. Now." She was done asking nicely. The beginnings of hysteria and tears were coming.

"The moment you handed the eye over to the United States Government was the last time you would have it until further notice."

"Listen," her voice faltered, "I haven't been sleeping these past nights between writing on the walls and papers and throwing up. I feel slightly more aware than a zombie right now and I want to sleep. Last night I ended up carving these symbols into my arm. If I fall asleep now, I will do everything in my power to make sure that I tear into your arm so we can having matching scars. Maybe then you'll understand just what kind of hell I am going though. Sir." Her words passed through clenched teeth, her intent revealed. Their gazes locked for a moment, both of them unyielding.

"What do you think the eye will do for you?" He finally asked, entwining his fingers together and put his hands on the table.

"I didn't have these issues when I had the eye. These problems came after the eye was gone. Please, I just want that eye. I don't have to go home, I can stay here. I just need to have it for a moment or two to see if I get better, that's all. I know you've had difficulty with the eye. You can research it while it's in my socket."

"How did you hear about that?" His voice was dark, hairs on the back of her head on end.

"It doesn't matter." She sweetly responded, mimicking him. If she were his child, he probably would have smacked her.

"You're willing to become a guinea pig just to be with the eye?" He asked with a tone of finality.

"Yes." She shot back, exasperated. His eyebrows furrowed briefly in thought. Turning to the man on the right, he nodded. Immediately, the two men protecting Donovan left the room, leaving the third behind. After what seemed like forever, the two men came back in carrying a large silver briefcase between the two of them. Carefully laying it on the table in front of her, they each had a key to open the locks on the opposite sides of the briefcase. A small 'hiss' announced it had been opened. Looking at Donovan as the men returned to his side, he gave a small nod to let her open it. It took everything to not squeal like an excited child when she opened it to find her eye she had dearly missed sitting in a nest of foam staring at her.

...

The vision came back to her right eye faster than Gloria remembered. The only thing she didn't expect was a sudden buffet of images the eye provided her, trying to show her what it had seen and read before calming down. As soon as it ended, she was handed over to yet another soldier who was lead her to the testing area. He led her through a door and into a large room. Computers covered every wall and table that was scattered in the room. Technicians attended the computers and other systems while a small group of medical professionals were prepping a bed for her arrival. Nervous, her eye began to dart around the room, gathering information for her and reading it out in the symbols she couldn't read. She was motioned to stand by some stacked up crates off to the side while they were finishing last-minute details. Suddenly she felt that something wasn't quite right. Observing the mood, no one else seemed bothered.

Moments later, a sharp, almost painful sound like a chainsaw against concrete ripped through the air, making her cover her ears to protect them. The computers went down when the noise stopped, showing a static screen on all monitors. Groans erupted from the IT personnel at the monitors when they say the screens. Eyes darted around, noting that no one else seemed to have heard the sound. Whatever it was. Looking down at her hands, a peculiar sensation began to register at the tips of the fingers: it felt like she had left them in a bucket of ice water for too long. Her toes too were starting to feel that way. She flexed them a few times, trying to ignore the sensation until a sudden spasm of chest pain sent her tumbling into the stack of crates beside her with as much grace as the description sounded. Her nails dug into her clothing and her skin, trying to get at her heart as she tried to get a grip on what was happening. The soldier noticed her panicked face and approached her, asking if she was all right. Sweat beaded on her forehead. It was taking a lot of effort to try and breath normally. "I don't know," she managed to wheeze, heart now pounding wildly against her fist. Her eyes met his, fearful. His response was drowned out as her pulse began to pound loudly in her ears; it felt like it was going to rip out of her chest. Was he shouting something? She couldn't hear over her heart's frantic breathing. Wheezing, she couldn't catch her breath while her heart raced ahead. Then, as quickly as it had begun, it stopped.

She collapsed to the ground, feeling her head crack against something. She tried to take a breath but to her horror she discovered she couldn't breath. White coats surrounded her, darting around like dragonflies. Someone grabbed her wrist and felt for a vein. Their lips moved like they were trying to talk to her, but nothing reached her ears. Despite the fear that tore at her insides, she closed her eyes. Vaguely aware of her body, there was a small, numb sensation of pressure on her chest. In the darkness she was floating in, she saw a soft, bright light off in the distance. It made her feel… safe. Warm. Welcome.

She decided to follow it, curiosity getting the better of her.

…..

"She doesn't have a pulse! I need an AED!" Chest compressions were immediately administered, cartilage cracking against the force of his hands as he counted in his head. He gave her one breath before going back to compressions to count once more. The medical professionals working on her were given a wide berth to work on her while someone ran to get the AED. They were on automatic at the moment: preparing IV lines for medication, hooking her up to an ECG so they could get a better reading on her heart rate before deciding on a course of action. They watched her heartbeat disintegrate into a confusing transition from flat line to classic arrhythmia. One of the nurses ran back with the AED in hand, quickly putting putting the patches onto the designated locations. The machine began to charge, the high-pitched electrical whine seemed to be the only sound in the room. 'Please stand back' the machine flashed, everyone temporarily leaving her alone. The jolt of electricity passed through her, causing muscles to spasm.

They waited with baited breath, the machine charging for a second jolt. A sharp draw of breath passed between her lips as her eyes shot open, muscles seizing as she came around. Medication was administered while others removed the AED and re-hooked the ECG machine back on her to watch her heart rate. Gloria groaned, disoriented after the shock. She slowly responded to the questions someone asked her as they prepared to move her to a more suitable location. They didn't know what she was talking about when she said she felt a strange blast that hurt her ears and left her fingers and toes numb. Her mind was too fuzzy to fully comprehend the relieved nature of the room around her at her survival. Donovan entered the room and saw the rather chaotic nature of the room. He asked he nearest IT. "What's happening? Why haven't we started?"

"Sir, our systems off-lined shortly before the girl over there had a heart attack. The doctors just now revived her." He motioned to the physicians as they put her on a backboard to transport her. Some of the IT men began to work on the computers now that the girl appeared to be alright.

"You sure as hell better radio Weapons downstairs to tell whoever is down there that they need to be ready to explain to me what they did to cause one of our computer systems and a girl to off-line in forty-five minutes." He already knew who had caused this mess, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to talk to him. He watched with mild disappointment as they disappeared with her through the second door to the MedBay. The testing, much to his chagrin, would have to wait. He slipped across the room to walk beside one of the head physicians, Dr. Walker. "How is she?" The doctor looked at Donovan, not seeming to mind his sudden appearance as he kept his stride to meet up with the new patient.

"Fine for the moment. Pulse shows no signs on any kind of defect based on the ECG readings we're getting. I'll go through her medical rcords, but right now this is baffling me. Shouldn't have happened to her; she's too young to suffer from ventricular fibrillation." Both men went out the door and took a right to head to the medical branch of the base. "I want to keep her on base overnight to watch her progress. I'll go over her records and then take a few heart scans to make sure everything is all right."

"No, we're sending her home." Donovan corrected, passing through a set of automatic doors.

"Sir?" Dr. Walker asked, not quite understanding.

"Let her lay down for a half-hour and then walk her back to the servers. I hate that we had a setback with testing. I'm off to talk to the big guy to let him know of what his soldier did here and then reassigning someone who's better at following my orders."

"We can't just send her on her way, she needs to be watched for twenty-four-" His voice trailed off at the look Donovan gave him.

"You said it yourself, she's too young and healthy for something like this to happen to her. Follow my orders then get a Geiger reading off of her." He held up a hand to stop the expected protest. "The next time I want to hear you speak is when you have the readings from her."

...

No more than ten minutes after giving the order, Dr. Walker ran up to meet Donovan on his way down to the hanger floor. He seemed breathless and rather wet. "I got here as quickly as I could DECON myself, sir. She's got a 3.23 Gy reading. She's going through the second DECON stage right now."

"I need her back down here in twenty minutes." Donovan ordered, cutting out whatever else the physician was going to say.

"We need to keep her here Donovan," he said, "she has ARS."
"It's the same as what everyone else has since we're near them-" Donovan tried to wave the assertive doctor's fears away.
"No it isn't," Dr. Walker stood his ground this time which surprised even himself, "I spent ten years in Osaka where I treated terminal ARS patients from Hiroshima and Nagasaki. None of the NEST soldiers have ever experienced symptoms, thank God. It's apparent that this is internal for her. She's bled from the nose and gums since we've treated her. Her flu-like symptoms make it and obvious diagnosis with the Gy reading, lucky for her she hasn't digressed into more severe symptoms. If you want your guinea pig alive to work the eye, then we need to keep her here."

"Personally," Donovan began slowly, "I don't care what you give her as long as she walks out of this building and out of my hair for the time being. I expect her here in," he glanced at his watch, "seventeen minutes. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get to a meeting that you've made me late for."

...

Fifteen minutes later, much to the disappointment to Dr. Walker, Gloria was presented before Donovan. Appearance wise, she was a little frayed from what had happened to her though she was now quite clean. Unfortunately, the doctor might've had a point to let her go until tomorrow. Every few strides she took while following him she would have to stop and rest momentarily (she had refused a wheelchair). Luckily for her, she hadn't encountered any stairs.

"You'll be taking these for your heart. Just follow the directions on the bottle." Donovan handed her three small bottles to her, a mumbled 'thanks' came from her ask she took them. She examined the labels, frowning. Looked like she was familiar with medications. The silence between them grew uneasy as the speaker system came to life overhead 'Base, prepare for arrivals. I repeat, base, prepare for arrivals. Weapons you have two. Medical, you have one. MedBay Two, six are coming your way. Arrival time approximately three minutes. Batch One and Three, prepare to meet aircraft for inspection and refueling...' The voice droned on its instructions to the soldiers below them.

"You take these pills when you've suffered from radiation poisoning!" She finally remarked. The doctor hadn't told her about the ARS or DECON because she had been on medication to keep her under during the procedure. "I don't know what these other two are, but I'm going to take a wild guess and say they're for the same thing, unless you want me to paint with this 'prussian blue' stuff. Last time I checked, I haven't been exposed to any kind of nuclear disaster." Her anger had bounced back, fully recovered. Donovan stared down at her with mild disgust.

"You should watch your tongue girl. I would be grateful for the free medical treatment you've just gotten from my base. You will take these medications when you get home. You've put us behind on testing, come on."

"What's the word I'm looking for? No." She snidely commented, staying put. "I will not do anything you say unless I get an explanation as to why I'm being given medications like I'm radioactive! Am I?" Donovan's silence was the answer she didn't want to hear. The base was humming to life below their feet and around them, preparing for whatever was coming. A sharp, cold breeze blew through the hanger as the massive doors were opening.

"Why?" She asked, uncertain if she wanted to even know now.

"There are some things that are best left unanswered at the moment. Unless you want to freeze, I'd suggest you follow me to the new room for testing." He tried to pull her along by her forearm but she shook her head. Donovan's patience was wearing thin with this girl. He didn't like anyone who questioned his explanations and orders.

"I believe that she has the right to know what is happening to her." A third voice entered their conversation. Gloria looked to both sides of her, but realized that the only ones with her were Donovan and the soldier who was protecting Donovan but neither had spoken. Where'd the voice come from?

Other Things to Note:

PTSD: Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder; no need to explain.

ASR: Acute Stress Reaction; Same as PTSD, but the key thing missing is the duration of the symptoms. Acute Stress Reaction evolves into PTSD if it lasts for more than 30 days.

ARS: Acute Radiation Syndrome; better known as radiation poisoning. Flu-like symptoms until you start profusely bleeding from the mouth, nose, and gums and throwing up blood too. Symptoms get worse and I have no motivation to explain further.

If my math's right, you would need to have to take almost 231 abdominal x-rays to have the same Gy readings as Gloria. Or a little over 40 abdominal CT scans. Or nearly 13 pelvic CT scans. Or almost 11 selective pelvis/abdominal CT scans. Pick your poison (but I wouldn't suggest it unless you need very aggressive diagnostics to figure out what's wrong with you).

Rate and Review please! It's my fuel!