Disclaimer: Not mine. Make no money from it.
Warnings:Besides ooc? Written through Mikaela's POV and is actually set before all the other fics of this pairing happen.
A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers. I think I won't wrap this one up for the time being. I'm having too much fun writing it to end it right now. I just hope you are having as much fun reading it too. Anyways, as always, mistakes will be fixed as soon as they are pointed out to me. And this one must have mistakes, I am almost falling asleep on the keyboard and might have missed many horribly.
Murdering Conscience
Her body shook as she silently cried. She had run to the bathroom and locked herself there. She was afraid to go out now. She had failed them. And through her actions she not only lost the best thing to have ever happened to her, but she lost the one person in the entire world that had truly believed in her.
But what was she supposed to do? Let him die? She was a survivor, a fighter, not a murderer. And letting the remains of the armored vehicle be scrapped when she knew what it really was had no other name than murder. She had been surprised to see that particular evil robot. She thought it had died and been thrown into the ocean along with the others. She'd wondered if the others knew about this.
She remembered her dad had looked at her funny when she placed a hand on the now familiar symbol. Decepticon. There was a slight movement under her palm. She couldn't do this. She couldn't kill him.
She remembered looking at her father and asking him for ownership of the vehicle. He had looked at her like she was crazy, but when she said she had to see if she could fix it he had given it to her to do as she pleased. He never doubted that she could fix it. Dad always had so much faith in her…
She sobbed harder this time. They had given her father back to her. He now owned his own junk yard. A decent job. All thanks to them. And she had gone and done this. What an ungrateful little bitch she turned out to be! Wouldn't her mother be proud now?
But once she saved him from certain death, leaving him in his current condition would've killed him. Slower and much more painful, but he would've died. She couldn't have that. She had brought Jazz back, with a lot of help from Ratchet… But, surely she could do something at least ease the pain.
It had taken her months where only the sound of the machinery inside of him where the only thing that told her she hadn't killed him. Her knowledge of car mechanics had always being kept up to date, but her knowledge of alien robots was very limited. She spent more time trying to figure out how more than half the pieces worked than in repairs. They were several very slow and morally conflicting months, but she'd done it. He woke up!
She was still unsure why she was still alive, but she wasn't going to question it. The only reason he'd stayed was because he was still too damaged to transform into a robot. The months passed even more slowly with him complaining about her slow work.
She'd been so sure he would leave as soon as that was over. She'd never been so wrong. The military vehicle remained with her. Why? She had no idea.
In fact, the jerk had decided to use those holograms the Autobots used when dealing with humans. At least he now could help do the chores around the house while she worked. He wasn't so bad when you got to know him and his moods. He never liked anything except annoying her to the point of actually contemplating murder… or at least berating herself for saving him.
He wasn't supposed to visit. She'd worked so hard to keep him away from home. To keep him from knowing and telling the others. How was she supposed to know that he'd decided to surprise her?
She let out a bitter laugh, tears streaming down her face. He'd come. He'd seen. He told her exactly what she suspected he'd say. His disappointed look was etched in her mind. He had believed in her and she'd shown him that the others had always been right. She wasn't worth it.
There was a knock on the door, more like a pounding that almost tore the door down, but she ignored it. He was the last person… thing… she wanted to see. It was all his fault.
"Oy! Squishy? I know you're there!" – He called from outside the room. She just got up and stared at herself in the mirror. She wasn't a pretty-looking but worm infested fruit. She will show him.
"Femme, I'm going in and if you've killed yourself I'll be really angry." – He said again. His loud voice taking her away from her thoughts.
"No! Don't! I'm fine. I'm going out now." – She replied, forcing some cheer out. The last thing she needed was to see the door being broken down by the insufferable robot.
"Whatever. Just get out of there now." – Heavy footsteps could be heard as he walked away.
He was right. She needed to get out and face the consequences. She saved him. She fixed him. She'd be damned if she let them fry him again. She took one last glance at the mirror before walking away and out of the bathroom. She had to talk to Sam and the Autobots before anything else happened.
And if they listened, she hoped everything turned out alright. If they didn't… Well she'd been born alone and will likely spend the rest of her days like this. It didn't matter to her anyways, she was a survivor and will continue being one for the rest of her life. She didn't need anyone else but herself. It didn't matter how painful and lonely that sounded.