Crash and Burn
Chapter 4-News
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.
Leo stood on the sidewalk in front of the Witwicky residence. They'd blown part of the afternoon sitting at the emergency room at the local hospital, waiting for Sam's friend, Miles, to get treated for fainting. The blond boy was now sitting on the front porch steps, staring back at Leo.
"You knew?" Miles asked. It wasn't an angry question, just straight out matter of fact.
"Only since September," Leo said. "I kinda got. . .dragged into it."
"Nice," Miles said. "And is that one, too?"
He pointed at Arcee.
"Yeah," Leo said. "Her name is Arcee."
"Her? You mean there are girl alien robots, too?"
"Yup," Leo said. "You could go say hello. She doesn't bite."
"I don't think I'll go find out just this second," Miles said. "Besides. I need to get home."
"Need a ride?" Leo asked.
"I'll walk," Miles said. "It isn't far. Tell Sam I'll see him tomorrow. And it was nice to meet you, even though it's kinda weird circumstances, you know?"
"You're telling me," Leo said, giving Miles a knowing smile.
Miles stood, walking down the sidewalk. He paused by Arcee, said hello, kept going. Leo knew how he felt, but at least Miles got a nice, friendly introduction, unlike his own. He wanted to forget his own first meeting with Cybertronians, which, unfortunately, was anything but friendly. A psycho killer girl bot, the helicopter that nearly killed him, Starscream and Megatron didn't make for a positive first impression. There was a happy thought. Starscream and Megatron. No one had heard anything from them since Egypt. Frankly, knowing they were both still out there somewhere scared the hell out of Leo. He shuddered, but stopped when he saw Sam on the porch.
"C'mon. Dinner's ready," Sam said.
Leo walked up to the porch, turned back, taking a look at the motorcycle and Camaro parked in front of the house. Just knowing they were there made him feel better.
-----
Diego Garcia
Graham ran after Galloway as the other man made for the chopper waiting on the tarmac.
"Sir. . ."
"What is it?" Galloway snapped, then sighed. The soldier was only trying to do his job, and Galloway knew the least he could do was let him do it.
"They were asking again, about getting their own living quarters," Graham said.
"It's been approved," Galloway said. "After the first of the year, we'll begin converting one of the auxiliary hangars. Consider it their Christmas gift."
Graham smiled, Galloway reciprocated with a faint smile of his own.
"Thank you sir," Graham said, snapping off a salute.
Galloway nodded, took off again for the chopper that was just the first leg of his journey home for the holidays. Graham watched the chopper take off. Galloway had changed, and for the better, since being surrounded by donkeys in Egypt several months before. The former national security advisor was now the president's liaison to the Autobots and Galloway's attitude toward the Cybertronians had also improved. Small miracle, that, but Graham filed it away for later reference. The day was promising to be a long one. And he was right. He just didn't know it yet.
-----
Ratchet and Optimus Prime stood outside the Autobot hangar, talking, although at the moment, Prime wished he was anywhere else.
"I would avoid Blue for the foreseeable future," Ratchet said.
"Why?"
"He's not talking," Ratchet answered. "For now, he's out on patrol with Ironhide."
"At least he's keeping occupied," Optimus said.
"For now," Ratchet said. "You know what it means when Bluestreak isn't talking. And that's not all. Do you want to hear the news from me, or. . ."
"What news?"
"Happy news," Ratchet said.
"Ironhide and Chromia?"
"Yes," Ratchet said. "I confirmed it yesterday, but they wanted to wait just a short while before telling the others."
"Chromia is carrying?"
"Not Chromia," Ratchet said, mirth in his optics.
"Ironhide?"
"Yes," Ratchet said.
Optimus didn't say anything. He was doubled over, laughing.
-----
"Patrol" was really a misnomer. Bluestreak was instead sitting with Ironhide on one of the island's beaches. For the moment, it was deserted and both Autobots were keeping an optic and other sensors peeled for passing boats and aircraft. Not really a problem considering the island was secure, but they couldn't afford to be careless.
"So what are you hoping for?" Bluestreak asked Ironhide, finally breaking the silence.
"A healthy protoform," Ironhide said. "Male or female doesn't matter to me, although Chromia is hoping it's a femme."
"Of course," Bluestreak said. "Either way, he or she will probably like weapons as much as you do."
"It better," Ironhide said, smiling. "Again, that doesn't matter. Our offspring could turn out to be an artist and I wouldn't mind."
"You're really looking forward to this, aren't you" Blue asked.
"I am," Ironhide said. But he didn't vocalize that he was also very reserved about his condition at the same time. Away from Cybertron, on a primitive planet. . .but he knew he was in good hands. Ratchet was the best medic, period. The weapons specialist decided to change the subject. He knew how Blue was faring with his own problems, but he wanted to hear it for himself.
"Have a nice talk with Optimus last night?" Ironhide asked.
Blue snorted.
"Went that well, eh?" Ironhide asked.
"Why is he being so difficult?" Blue said.
"Blue, I've known Optimus a very long time," Ironhide said. "He's always been reluctant to admit he needs anyone. He thinks he can get by on his own, but I know as well as he does that's not true. He needs someone, and if you think you want him, you should do something about it."
-----
Graham counted backwards from 10. Slowly, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, like the medic told him that time in Kabul two years before and he was so off task it wasn't funny. Deep breaths. Remain calm. How the hell was he going to explain to the brass that one of the Autobots, and one of their heaviest hitters, was expecting? Ironhide. What were they going to do without Ironhide if Decepticons showed up? Optimus and Ironhide were NEST's one-two punch. Not that the others couldn't fight, but. . .
Graham stared up at the Autobot leader, who was down on one knee, staring back.
"Seriously?"
Prime nodded.
Graham stood, hands on hips, eyes now closed. Prime scanned the human, noted the rising blood pressure and constriction of blood vessels in his head. The Autobot started to say something, but the human, eyes now open, waved him off.
"Don't even mention my blood pressure," Graham said. "And what is you said about a signal? There are others arriving?"
"Within the next few weeks," Optimus said.
"This is going to be a very big pain in my backside," Graham said.
"You're not alone," Optimus said. "Remember that."
"In that case, you'll be the one who gets to inform Gen. Morshower of Ironhide's condition," Graham said.