Author's notes: Welly-well well, I'm glad everyone responded real well to the forest idea. Thanks for all the reviews too! I can't believe how popular this story has gotten. Wow, it seems like my plot bunnies are like literary gold. lol. Anyway, another chapter. When I had written it I was really excited about it but as time went on and I critiqued it I became dubious, but it's a necessary chapter. I'm not as thriller with it as I was when I wrote it, but I hope you all like it. As always; please read and review! Critiques are welcome as well.
Phase seven: Insanity
Chapter Fourteen
"Where'd you get the guitar?"
Caleb had taken up the instrument once more after Brea had taken a seat across the fire pit from him while beside her, Jazz took a spot on the grass, his movements slow and careful so he didn't gouge grooves into the ground.
The young man looked up at Brea and smiled. "Jazz gave it to me," He said.
Brea then turned to the mentioned Mech and interrogated him. "Ok. Where did you get it, then?"
The Mech shrugged inconsequentially.
"I found it couple orns back while I was securing some supplies for the compound. A vendor down at the market had a box of weird human stuff he was trying to pawn off," Jazz replied. "I didn't know what a lot of the stuff was and I figured it'd be a nice surprise for these guys, so I bought it and took it all back here. Caleb pretty much demanded me to give to 'im when I pulled it out of the box."
"I did not," Caleb retorted.
"If you were tall enough, you would've ripped it out of my hands," Jazz countered with a smirk.
"You should have seen the junk that was in there," Caleb said as if never hearing Jazz. "There was an egg beater, a crushed box of tissues, a bunch of broke records, a baby monitor that doesn't work, a stapler, a VCR, a broken computer monitor, the E volume of an encyclopedia, a broken chair, and oh-!" he snickered, "There was a bra too."
Brea snorted. "What?"
"Yeah," Caleb laughed. "There was. Rodney wanted to keep it but Annie threw it into the fire 'cause it wasn't her size."
Brea shook her head as she tried to calm the giggle fit threatening to emerge.
"There were some fire crackers too," He added.
"Really? Do you still have them?"
"Nah, we used 'em."
"Yeah, by throwing 'em into the fire," Jazz added. "Not the smartest thing you and yer brothers have done Ceb. Scared poor Blue outta his processor; yer lucky he wasn't armed."
"Yeah, Ratchet said the same thing," The boy grumbled.
"So do you know how to play?" Brea asked, gesturing to the guitar and recalling the strange jumble of chords and melodies that she had heard coming upon the clearing.
"Can I play?" Caleb sounded offended at the question, sending her an incredulous look. He placed his fingers along the neck of the guitar. The digits danced across the instrument, bringing the air alive with music. After a moment of rapid chord dealing, the young man ended his riff and looked up at her smugly. Although an acoustic did not have the same sound as an electrical guitar and really wasn't built for such melodic displays, his point had been made.
Brea felt her face and neck heat up. "Alright, then what was that before?"
Looking stymied, Caleb averted his gaze uncomfortably from her, looking like a little boy caught in a lie. "Oh…that. Yeah well…I was trying to remember how to play this one song I like. Called 'Wonderwall'. Dunno if you've ever heard it before," He said, suddenly seeming to wilt as he thought about it.
That's it! I knew I knew that song! Brea's mind cheered and then faltered as she noticed his demeanor.
She had the inexplicable impression of reminisce emitting from him. Perhaps it was something they all felt that was easily recognizable to them, something that their experiences gave then that they all shared, but was hard to explain. But Brea seemed to understand the look of mournful loss, almost as if she could see his thoughts and memories playing inside his head. "I can't remember the melody very well. Or most of the lyrics…"
Brea watched him as his eyes suddenly became very distant looking, as if his consciousness was slipping back to revisit his memories. After a moment he came back to himself and turned to her, sending her a forced smile. Brea saw beyond it and found a sadness there and her chest tightened, having recognized such a sadness in her that for a long time she had thought was limited only to her. An inane thought came to her as she realized for the first time…
I'm not alone…
"It's been a while," He said, snapping her from her thoughts, "Since I'd heard any familiar music, y'know? Jazz's shown us some of their music, but…it's just not the same, y'know? It's been a while I guess. Kinda strange, I mean I listened to the radio and my CD's all the time back home and then suddenly, POOF it's all gone. No more, bye-bye. I guess it's pretty much what people are always saying about you not knowing what you have till it's gone, eh?"
Brea clenched her hands and nodded.
The young man ran his hand across the smooth wooden body of the guitar in an appreciative gesture. "When Jazz first brought this to show us, I was all excited. I couldn't believe it." He looked up at her, " Y'see, my brothers and I…well, back home, we'd started our own band when we were kids. I was on guitar, Sean was on base, and Rodney was our drummer. There was a neighbor girl who'd sing backup sometimes too. It was what we wanted to do with our lives. Me mum, she thought it was just a phase, y'know. Like kids our age. Everyone wanted to be a rock star. 'Cept we didn't grow out of it. We started landing gigs at some fundraisers and we played in the pubs and stuff like that, doing covers of songs from the popular bands. We'd been working on some of our own stuff at the time when…well, we were coming home from a charity drive in London when we were caught." A sadness filtered into his hazel eyes and he looked down for a moment. He sniffed and swiftly whipped his hand across is nose before looking back up. Brea saw tears gathering in his eyes. His voice broke and cracked as he said, "And then…suddenly we're here."
She felt the familiar sting of oncoming tears and the constricting of her lungs. She fought them back. "I'm sorry…"
Caleb smiled weakly before laughing, rubbing his eyes, "What's t'be sorry fer? I'm alive and I have my health and my brothers. It's a lot more then what others have, I can tell ya that," He took a long breath and slowly released it, "I just wish I could tell our Mum and Dad we're alright."
Brea nodded numbly. She could understand that. What she wouldn't give to be able to see her parent's faces one more time, to see her little brother. Just to know, good or bad, where they were.
Her eyes fell as Vortex's words drifted back into her cognitive thoughts. Did he realize Earth had been invaded and its people were being hunted down like animals? She suspected not. A part of her told her she should tell him, but another part said no. She didn't want to bring him anymore sadness. The way he gripped the neck of the instrument spoke volumes. To him, that guitar was more then just a musical tool…it was a comfort. It gave him a sense of normalcy, reminding him of how the world once was. The guitar was a symbol to him, a symbol of his hope to return to that time. It was his anchor.
Her stomach dropped as she replied, "Yeah…"
What was her anchor?
Feeling queasy and not having the heart to tell him about Earth, Brea searched for a change of subject or at least one that shifted away from its current path. She looked down at the guitar in his lap again and forced herself to smile.
"Try playing," She said, "I might be able to fill in some of the gaps."
Caleb stared and blinked at her for a moment before smiling and adjusted his fingers along the neck. "Alright, so you know the song then?"
She nodded. "It's Oasis right?
He beamed. "That's right. Okay, then. Gimme a tick."
He began to strum, trying to find his place among the strings, humming along with the opening chords; a steady strumming that set the beat and tone…His humming slowly morphed into words as he guided his fingers along the strings.
"Today is gonna be the day that they're gonna throw it back to you
By now you should have somehow realized what you gotta do
I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now…"
The strumming faltered and his lips moved without direction as his mind searched for the next line. His eyes flickered over to her hopefully…
Brea opened her mouth and picked up the song, her soft soprano voice filling the gap nicely.
"Backbeat the word is on the street that the fire in your heart is out
I'm sure you've heard it all before but you never really had a doubt…"
Caleb beamed at her, his fingers finding their places along the strings without difficulty and his voice joined Brea in the lyrics as if he had never forgotten them.
"I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now…"
Caleb aced the chord change without hesitation, his eyes never wavering from Brea's face as their voices rang in chorus.
"And all the roads we have to walk are winding
And all the lights that lead us there are blinding
There are many things that I would like to say to you
But I don't know how…"
It was strange, but as the next phrase of the song ran around in their minds, telling their mouths what to say, they both raised their voices and a feeling of absolution and confidence filled the air. Caleb's simple strumming grew more aggressive and direct, growing into a crescendo and giving the music a hidden meaning, making it sound bold as if it were determined to be heard.
"'Cause maybe
You're gonna be the one that saves me
And after all
You're my Wonderwall."
His playing grew softer with the next lines, but the confidence remained perfectly audible.
"Today was gonna be the day but they'll never throw it back to you
By now you should have somehow realized what you're not to do
I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now
And all the roads that lead you there were winding
And all the lights that light the way are blinding
There are many things that I would like to say to you
But I don't know how
I said maybe
You're gonna be the one that saves me
And after all
You're my Wonderwall
I said maybe
You're gonna be the one that saves me
And after all
You're my Wonderwall
I said maybe
You're gonna be the one that saves me
You're gonna be the one that saves me
You're gonna be the one that saves me…."
The guitar's sound faded quickly after the ending measure and for moment, all three of them, two humans and a Mech, sat around looking at each other.
Jazz broke into an enthusiastic grin. "Wow. That was incredible you two!"
Brea's face heated with a blush and she looked away, bashfully. I can't believe I just did that…
Caleb, however, was all grins. "I can't believe we just did that! I've been trying to remember all the words to that song for ages!"
Trying her best to work past her timidity, Brea smiled, "The Pizza place I worked at use to play that song over and over until we finally got the track player fixed… three weeks after it started looping," she said, "I don't think I could forget the words if I wanted to."
"Does all Earth music sound like that?" Jazz asked, enthralled. His visor was aglow with rapture.
"No," Caleb replied, "There're all different types of music, but I guess the basic components are all there…"
"What about--" Jazz's response was abruptly cut off by a high pitched bawling that began emitting from one of the sheds. The sound startled Brea, who jumped and jerked around to stare at the suspicious hut.
"And that would be my cue," Caleb said, a grin still plastered on his face, rising to his feet, "Just gimme a sec, alright? I'll be right back."
Beside her, Jazz laughed. "Everyone's a critic, huh Ceb?"
Caleb just laughed as he began making his way to the shed, disappearing into it.
"Is that…a baby?" She asked in disbelief.
"Yep," Jazz answered with a grin on his face. He didn't seem to notice her perturbation. "Her name's Becky. She's Annie's lil' monster."
"So her Mom is nearby then," Brea said in relief. She could not imagine how heart breaking it would have been if the Baby had been abandoned.
The Mech didn't reply and merely stared at her with a curious expression.
Caleb returned before an awkward silence could occupy the space Brea's words had left. As he emerged from the little metal shed, he carried a bundle of blankets with him, arms struggling to keep a hold of the wiggling armful. As he approached them, Brea caught sight of the baby's foot dangling out of the folds. She heard the soft gurglings of the infant as Caleb rounded the fire pit so he could sit next to Brea. Looking over, Brea's mouth stretched into a smile at the sight of her.
She was gorgeous.
A pink, pudgy little baby girl with eyes as blue as the sea, thin black wisps of hair clinging to her young scalp, her toothless mouth opening and closing meaninglessly as she made baby noises. Her small hands reached up and padded Caleb's face, rubbing against his cheeks, while little fingers pried at his mouth and nose. Gigging, he turned his head this way and that to keep from having a baby finger pushed up his nostril. Brea laughed and reached out to touch Becky's little arm. "Hey there," she said in a small high pitched cooing voice. Bright blue eyes locked onto her face and the baby's little mouth widened in a bright smile and she giggled.
Brea laughed despite herself. "She's adorable!"
"Oh just you wait," Caleb said, shifting Becky in a more secure hold, "She stops being cute after a few days of diaper duty."
Brea glanced up at him with a smirk, "So are you the Manny, then?"
"This week I am," He replied, sounding resigned before perking up and smiling slyly, "Sean's got next week."
"How old is she?"
"Six months," Caleb replied.
Brea fell silent and the smile on her face disappeared. She felt a surge of something run through her and she looked at the child with new eyes. Both Jazz and Caleb noticed her sudden change in demeanor and stared at her worryingly; some unknown and unspoken concern passing silently between them.
She surprised them both when she suddenly perked up and looked at Caleb, eyes sparkling. "Can I hold her?"
Taken a back by her sudden rebound, Caleb stumbled on his assent, "Un…yeah, s-sure."
Carefully, he transferred Becky over to Brea, who accepted the bundle of joy with open arms. Cradling the baby in her arms, gently rocking her back and forth, Brea stared into her deep blue eyes. Both man and Mech studied the pair with uncertain gazes.
"She was born here wasn't she? On Cybertron…?" Brea asked finally, her voice possessing a somewhat muted sadness to it.
Caleb watched her for a second, understanding why she had suddenly become melancholy, before replying. "Yeah. Annie was pregnant when they took her, but I guess at the time they didn't know enough about us to be able to recognize it."
"We rescued Annie from a euthanizing compound and about a joor after she was brought here, she gave birth," Jazz added. "At the time all this was just an abandoned bunker from the war. Preston was the only human we had here at the time so he had to help. He didn't know much about how to deliver a baby, but then again we didn't know anything at all. I think Ratchet almost short circuited from all the blood. Poor Blue kept trying to charge into the infirmary whenever she screamed."
Brea nodded. "Yeah. Childbirth is notoriously painful. And without an epidural? Dear lord, I bet she wasn't a happy mommy."
Caleb laughed. "Preston said he was afraid she was gonna drop kick him or something. He said it almost made him take a vow of chastity. Almost."
In her arms, baby Becky began to fuss and whine, wiggling her body in a clear gesture of unhappiness. She began to cry and Brea felt panicked for a moment, looking to Caleb for help. He just smiled and gestured to her.
"Give 'er here," Caleb said and reached out to take her back, settling the fussy child in the crook one arm. His other hand reached down beside his leg and picked up a small canister of some kind that Brea hadn't noticed before. But she did note, with some surprise, that the top had been fixed with a rubber nipple like a baby bottle. "Time to feed the black hole…"
Caleb brought the bottle to Becky's face and her little eyes sparkled, little infant hands reaching out to grab it from him. She immediately began to suckle. Caleb glanced up at Brea with a smile and opened his mouth as though to say something, but his eyes shifted to look at something past her and the blood in his face seemed to drain.
"Uh-oh…" He said.
Brea stared at him quizzically. "U-oh? What's Uh-oh?"
Beside her, she heard Jazz curse. "Aw frag."
Brea was not very eager to turn and see what the fuss was, but as was human nature, she did. With trepidation, Brea slowly turned her head around and her eyes locked onto a very startling sight. A shiver ran through her body.
Oh boy…
Ratchet stood at the edge of the clearing, arms crossed, eyes flashing, and expression as furious as she had ever seen. He stared at the small group, mouth twisted into an irate scowl. Brea contemplated whether or not to dive for cover behind Jazz.
The black and white Mech, himself, seemed to shrink away beside her as the medic's glare focused in on him. Brea wouldn't have been surprised if the medic's eyes didn't start shooting off lasers. There seemed to be a silent conversation, or lecture, going on between Jazz and Ratchet, but the glare was suddenly directed at her and then she found herself shrinking away as well.
Me? She thought incredulously, What did I do?
Caleb just looked between the trio, confusion and worry on his face, while Becky, thoroughly unaware, suckled eagerly on the bottle without any vague notion as to the atmosphere of the room.
"What do you think you're doing?" Ratchet asked Brea, sounding as if he expected her to really answer.
"…uh…I was t-talking to…with Caleb… and…playing with…the baby…" She replied plainly, stumbling clumsily over her words as if she were afraid any one of them might set the Mech off. She recalled what Jazz and Caleb had said about his bedside manner. She certainly didn't want to be locked in a cupboard.
Ratchet leered at her.
"You're not clear to leave the infirmary for another four joors," He told her, scowl increasing. Then his gaze snapped back to Jazz, who flinched. Ratchet switched to Cybertronian to berate the Mech. "And you! Don't think for a click that you're getting out if this. Breaking procedure and regulations is a punishable offense, Jazz. I thought you knew that!"
"Yeah, but we thought she might need to get out and roam for a while," Jazz replied defensively. "Y'know, to cheer her up a bit."
"We can't accelerate procedure and risk having Brea turn out like Kimberly," Ratchet snapped. "We need to follow the…" The medic glanced at Brea and his words trailed off. Turning back to Jazz, he said, "We'll discuss this later with Prowl after he returns from the Citadel."
Jazz wilted.
"Hey Ratchet?" Caleb spoke up, his voice colored with a slight hint of apprehension. When the medic turned to the young man, he seemed to tense, but continued anyway, "I just wanted to let you know Preston's sick again."
The medic's furious demeanor diminished almost immediately and he glanced over at the rows of little metal sheds. "How bad?"
"Not too bad," Caleb replied optimistically, "But Annie wanted me to make sure I told one of you guys if you came down today."
Ratchet's optics didn't leave the little shed and after a moment, he made his way over to one of them. He treaded carefully on the grass as if to keep from destroying or uprooting it and then crouched down beside the metal house. Peering inside, Ratchet lightly rapped on the top of the shed.
"Preston," He called.
Brea heard a faint moan and a cough.
"Come on you bum, get up," Ratchet said. Even though it sounded like a command, he said it gently, almost as if he were urging the human up. "Let's have a look at you."
A moment later, a frail looking man stepped into the threshold of the door, the light blond hair atop his head was disheveled and dirty. His eyes were sunken and one hand tiredly rubbed at one eye. Like Caleb, Preston wore the skirt and sash ensemble, but unlike the former, he was older and much skinnier. He looked ill. Ratchet stared at the man with disapproval.
"You're body mass has decreased by several units," The medic said accusatorily, optics narrowing. "Why haven't you been refueling the appropriate amount?"
The man's voice was raspy and frank as he replied, "Because I just end up puking it all back up. No sense in wasting what little food we have."
"If you don't start refueling properly, I'll stick a tube down your throat," Ratchet snapped. "You need to take better care of yourself."
Preston stared up at the Mech, a wicked little grin coming to his face, "Take care of myself? Ha. Sorry man, should've told me that twenty years ago."
"C'mon Preston, he's just trying to help," Caleb said, still bouncing Becky in his arms.
"Yeah well, forgive me if I'm not in too much of a charitable mood right now," He said and turned back to go into the shed, "I'll see you guys later. I'm going back to bed. Don't wake me unless someone's discovered how to turn bark into booze."
After the man left, Ratchet spent a moment scowling after him, but didn't pursue the issue or call him back. Standing back up, he strolled around the clearing to stand behind Brea and Caleb. Glancing down at them, Ratchet sighed, "Keep an eye on him, will you Caleb? Makes sure Annie gives him some food too. If he doesn't start eating he'll keep getting sick like this. Craig can force feed him if need be."
"Will do," Caleb replied, shifting Becky in his arms. The little baby looked up and waved her small hands at the medic as if she wanted to be picked up.
Ratchet looked down at the small human and Brea was surprised to see a small smile appear on the medic's face. "Hello to you too you little monster."
"She's not a monster," Brea said defensively, but with a smile. "She's adorable."
"She's a tiny Primus forsaken ball of noise and trouble is what she is," Ratchet replied. Becky merely giggled and waved her arms jubilantly. As far as she knew, the grown ups were talking and smiling at her, giving her attention, and that was cause for celebration. Ratchet shook his head, smiling.
"But she's a cute monster," Caleb replied, bouncing the little girl in his lap. He nuzzled the baby with his face, causing her to squeal and giggle. "Look at that face!"
"She's very deceptive," The medic replied, bending down near Brea. "C'mon, I'm taking you back up to the Infirmary."
Brea frowned up at the medic, wanting to protest. She didn't want to leave! She wanted to meet the other humans. Besides, what had him so adamant about following his 'procedures', anyway? She was fine! No mental instability here, thank you. See this face? This is the face of a mentally stable person!
"But-" Before Brea could utter any more form of opposition, Ratchet reached out and gently scooped her up, shifting her into one hand.
"No 'buts'," He said flatly as he stood back up, causing a wave of vertigo to sweep over her, and made his way back over to the metal path that led to the exit. Passing Jazz, the medic pinned him with a look and the moment seemed to freeze over. Ratchet's voice was clear and precise when he said, "Jazz?"
"Y-yeah?" The aforementioned Mech asked nervously, shoulders hunched in anticipation. Even though Brea had a distinct impression as to what was going to happen, it still stunned her. She didn't think he'd actually do it.
But then again…
The medic's free hand curled into a fist and made contact with Jazz's helm with frightening force, echoing loudly and causing the present humans to jump. Jazz yelped and reached up to nurse the abused area. The medic huffed irritably and said, "Next time you decide to ignore my procedures, don't."
Brea stared, with wide-eyed surprise at the sizable dent in Jazz's head.
While not appearing to be as shocked as her, Caleb still seemed stunned nonetheless. In his arms, little Becky merely giggled and clapped.