UBER LONG DISCLAIMER! Transformers belongs to Hasbro, Transformers the novel belongs to Alan Dean Foster, and Transformers the 2007 movie belongs to Michael Bay.

Is that it? Did I get everybody? Good.

Oh and Iris is mine!

Also UBER LONG CHAPTER sorry but I figured the first part was too short to post so I just made it into one big long hullabaloo!

Have you ever been close to something powerful? Not just moderately so, but something really powerful. Have you felt it around you; above, below, encircling you? A power you can see, hear, feel. The best analogy I can think of is surfing through the tube of a title wave. All that immensity, all that raw potential for destruction surging around you. Yet you remain unharmed. Pure might surrounds you in every direction, but you, in the dead center of it all, are totally and utterly safe.

That's what I felt when I rode in Optimus Prime.

I sat up strait on the red leather seats. My legs were crossed Indian-style to keep them away from the ever-moving pedals, not that I could've reached them anyway. I was trying to minimize my amount of contact with the Prime. I had an immense respect for him, and chances are the feeling of a little creature crawling around inside of you was pretty weird.

A flush of embarrassment warmed my face as I remembered how much trouble I'd had getting in.

The step up to the front seat was large for an adult; for me it was near impossible. Walking up to the open door, I knew that getting in would be a challenge, and I was determined to perform it gracefully.

But of course the universe just wouldn't have it my way. On my first attempt of the long step upwards, I slipped and fell, landing on my butt with a yelp.

I heard laughter. Some of it was warm and natural, but one came from a strained, mechanical voice. Tipping my head all the way back, I saw a familiar black and yellow form standing over me. Those sounds came from him as he looked down at me with smiling eyes and shaking shoulders.

" 'Ts not funny!" I squeaked indignantly, blushing as I fought back my own laughter.

Bumblebee just laughed again as he leaned forward, his fingers outstretched towards me. As they came closer, I felt them pinch the hood of my yellow sweatshirt before gently lifting me off the ground. Though being dangled in the air made me want to struggle and flail, my embarrassment at having to be helped like a baby kept me from moving. I behaved and held still as I was carried through Prime's open door and gently plopped down into the driver's seat. My face hot, I glanced back out the door at my helper. "Thanks," I mumbled.

The 'Bot who had protected me since I'd entered this world gave me a genuine smile. "See you later?" his radio asked as he reached back in and gave me a gentle nudge of encouragement.

Giving in to a small smile, I nodded. My door closed, Bumblebee transformed, Sam and Mikaela hopped back inside him and we were off.

"You do not appear to be at ease." Optimus's voice rumbled, startling me back into reality. "You need not fear. I have no intentions of harming you."

Taking a deep breath, I answered, "I know. I'm just…nervous, I guess. It's… It's an awfully big honor to meet you, sir. I've always wanted to, but in my world you weren't real, so…" I fiddled with the straps of my tote bag, winding and unwinding them tightly around my hands.

"Then I imagine this is a moment of great excitement for you, isn't it?"

"Yessir."

"You seem very polite for one so young." Optimus commented. "The term of respect is greatly appreciated. However, I do not believe it is necessary. While you are but an acquaintance to my Autobots and I, you seem to have known us a long time. The title 'sir' is not used when referring to one with familiarity, am I correct?"

"Yessir."

"Then I see no reason for someone who knows us so well to speak with such unfamiliarity."

"Yessss-… Okay." In all actuality, it was very strange for me to call someone 'sir.' It takes me a while to respect people of authority, and even to those who I do respect, it just never comes to mind to call them 'sir.' However, what I had for Optimus was somehow above my normal level of respect, so I had made a conscious effort to use the word. Now that I had permission to cease, I felt a bit relieved that I had one less thing to keep track of.

"About such knowledge…" Optimus paused, as if this was a touchy subject. Which was entirely accurate.

"… Do you want me to tell you what happens?" I asked finally.

"Would you be willing to?"

"Well," I bit back another 'sir' as I thought, despite myself. "I don't know. I mean, I don't know what to say. I really don't wanna screw anything up. I don't want you guys to lose, and…" I swallowed, trying to combat my constricting throat. "I don't want anyone to die. If I tell you everything, something might go wrong, but if you want me to… I will."

"… You trust me with knowledge of my own future?"

"I dunno, I just…trust you."

There was a long silence after that. He was thinking, I was thinking. Well, I was at first. I got distracted by the interior. It was very nice; very…shiny. In the center of the steering wheel sat an equally shiny, silver Autobot insignia. The dash was covered in a tantalizing array of dials, knobs and switches, and it was all I could do to keep from messing with them. Wood seemed to be a predominant theme; it was on the floor, the dash, the knobs, and encircling the steering wheel. As part of the custom job, there were flames everywhere, and I mean everywhere. On the door, on the pedals, on the spokes of the steering wheel, the dash, the stick shift, all over the place! And it was so cool!

Stupid cars, a pouting thought entered my mind. Stupid Autobots and their alt-modes of nice, shiny cars with big, rumbly engines, and their super-speed, and all their buttons and switches and their, their… awesomeness.

"I would appreciate the ability to inquire, but I will not force you to reveal anything." Optimus said after a while. "If you believe there is any chance of our knowledge of an event changing it for the worse, you are not obliged to voice it."

I nodded. "Okay. Well, ask away then, I guess."

"First and foremost: Casualties?"

With a heavy heart, I replied, "Yes."

"Autobot?"

"Yes."

"… Is it for a sufficient sacrifice?"

"No!" I exclaimed, certain for the first time that night. "That's why we have to stop it! He can't-" I swallowed through a tight throat. "He doesn't have to die."

"Will this event happen soon?"

I shook my head. "No, I'll have time to warn you."

"Good. Human casualties?"

"Well," I paused, looking out the window. "Not here, far away. And if I remember right, it's already happened." I sent out a quick prayer for the soldiers. "And later, but nobody who's-" I caught myself. How dare I call them unimportant. Back in my own world they were just characters, extra actors running around pretending to be scared. Just a face in the crowd. When the camera panned away, that was the end of their existence. But here… Here they were real, living people, with lives, homes, families and friends. All of their lives were precious, and they didn't deserve to die at the hands of evil alien robots.

"-a main character."

"So Samuel Witwicky and Mikaela Banes will be safe?"

"Safe?" I repeated, restraining a snort. "They're not safe… but they will be, if everything stays the same."

"Alright. I have another question."

I steeled myself for a potentially difficult inquiry.

"Are the Autobots successful in obtaining the Allspark?"

"… Yes."

"And do we return it to our planet?"

"… No."

Silence.

"We are unable to restore our home world?"

My head bowed, my entire being portraying my deepest regrets. "I'm sorry."

More silence.

Then suddenly, a horrible, terrible, evil thought entered my head. What if they won't go for the Allspark now?

"But you have to keep going for it Optimus!" I exclaimed, scared out of my mind of what I had just done. "You have to! If you don't, the Decepticons might get it the glasses and they'd get the Allspark, and then we'd all be…" I trailed off, my posture melting into a pitiful hunch, hiding my face in my hands with despair. What…had I done? Had I just ruined everything? Oh no…oh no…

I whispered the last word, feeling wetness in my hands. "Scrapped."

Infinite silence.

… "I have had sufficient time to ponder all possible ramifications of a multiplicity of actions," Optimus spoke after a long time. "And what I have decided is this:"

I lifted my head a bit, listening intently to every word.

"If we return the Cube to Cybertron, our war will continue. I postulate eventual victory, but not for a minimum of another thousand years. We have been fighting so long, I can remember nothing else." A pause. "The opportunity to live, to exist in a state of being other than perpetual combat, lies here, on this world. The madness ends now."

I sat up a bit straighter, not completely sure of what I'd heard. "So…" I began quietly. "You know what needs to be done?"

"Affirmative."

"And…" I paused again, somewhat incredulous. "You'll still help us?"

"I will not allow the humans to become a casualty of our war." The Prime stated firmly. "That is not our way. If we have battled so long for naught else, we have fought for that much. It is an immediately achievable goal. To fight to preserve life, however different it may be from our own," He hesitated, and had every right to. "That is a belief worth dying for."

I did not move for a moment; I just sat there, letting every word sink in. Slowly, slowly I uncurled. My hands fell away from my face. I straightened up and fell, slowly, backwards into the seat. I allowed myself to lean against the seat of Optimus Prime, tilting back my head until it too touched the seat. I let myself relax in the warm, vibrating leather, and closed my eyes. I hadn't blown it. Not yet. Optimus would still protect us, even if he knew it was a lost cause and his planet could not be saved. Somewhere deep inside where I knew his character inside and out, I was not surprised. Somewhere I had always known that he would protect us, but on the outside all I could feel was grateful.

"Thank you."

As we rolled down Sam's street, I noticed that Optimus's engine got quieter. It was like he was trying to muffle the noise of his immense engine. The other Autobots were probably following in suit. While that was well and good and all, I was still surprised that our brigade of fancy machines didn't attract more attention.

Bumblebee lead the way up an alley one house away from Sam's, Optimus behind him and the rest of the Autobots behind us. As soon as the teenagers had gotten out, Sam started babbling at Mikaela. It was all the girl could do to get in a reassuring word between his nervous, stuttering way of talking.

"I need you to stay here, alright? You gotta stay here and you gotta watch 'um."

"Okay."

"All of them. You hear what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, okay, okay."

"Five minutes, alright?"

Good luck, Sammy boy, I thought was I carefully hopped out of Optimus. The descent was much easier than the mount had been. I give them five seconds.

Sam turned to the Autobots. "Stay. Stay here. Stay." He told them before sprinting away.

I was slightly taken aback; exactly fifteen seconds passed before Optimus began transforming.

"What're you doing?!" Mikaela whisper-yelled at him. "He told you to stay here! You can't wait five minutes?!"

"It is imperative that we obtain the glasses." Optimus told her before stepping over the fence into the neighbor's yard.

As he did so, I began to feel a rumble of laughter starting in the pit of my stomach. It pushed outward, wanting to escape. I forced it down, but doing so resulted in giving me an almost giddy mindset. I loved this scene.

"Let's not go through the neighbor's yard," I told Bumblebee after he'd finished his transformation. When he looked down at me, I broke out into what I'm sure looked like a silly grin. "C'mon," I motioned back down the alley. "Let's go around."

As silently as possible, Bumblebee followed me back to the street. We looked around, Mission Impossible style, before quickly running around the neighbor's house into the Witwicky's driveway. Just as Optimus stepped over the fence into the Witwicky's yard, using the roof of the neighbor's house for balance, Bee and I crept around the corner of the house to peer at a scrambling-to-keep-his-dad-inside Sam.

The look of surprised horror on Sam's face when he turned and saw us was amazing. I spun back around the corner, covering my nose and mouth to keep my laughter internalized. Bumblebee immediately knew that Sam would be in trouble if his parents saw the Autobots, and conveyed this understanding by holding a finger up to his face and making shh-ing noises. This action was directed at me when a small noise escaped my hands.

Regaining a bit more stability, I peeked back around the corner to watch Sam continue to scramble.

"Um, uh… I love you."

I looked at Bumblebee and he looked at me, and we seemingly shared a thought: Really?

"Gawd I love you, so much right now."

Bee turned from the conversation to make throat-cutting actions as the other Autobots, then he tried to wave them away, and then his hand turned upwards in an exasperated gesture that just read why?

"Alright I love you. Sleep good, handsome man." I knew my cue and took it, coming out from around the corner as Bumblebee stood to his feet. The other 'Bots had just started to follow Optimus's path through the neighbor's yard, their leader already walking around in the Witwicky's. In this scene I had always felt embarrassment for Sam as he yelled at the 'Bots, something I could never do, but all I did now was try to keep myself from laughing.

"What're you doin'? What're you doin'? No watch the path! Watch the path! Watch the-!" Sam's voice pitch increased to a frantic high as he ran around, simultaneously trying to avoid the large feet and tell them to stop moving! "Please please please! No no wait! NO NO NO!" His whisper-yell turned to a full one as Optimus's touched the fountain at the center of the Witwicky yard, crushing it to water and rubble in milliseconds. "Oh no!"

Having lifted his foot before it had even met the ground, Optimus apologized immediately, which was so out of place for that superior voice of his. "Oops. Sorry, my bad."

"Oh I gah augh!-" Sam was literally too furious, too frantic for words. "You cou!-You couldn't wait for five!-You couldn't wait for five minutes I told you j-j-j-just stay! Just stay! Gawd!"

At that moment a little brown animal came limp-running out of the house, making sort of a growling/yelping noise.

"Mojo!" I exclaimed. Small dogs weren't my favorite, but hey a puppy is a puppy. I ran after him, arms outstretched. "Mojo! Come here boy! Come here-No, no, come here!" I picked up the pace as Mojo began running around Ironhide's feet, barking incessantly and leaping up to try and bite the 'Bots ankle. Ironhide was getting thoroughly annoyed with the dog, so I decided to go in and try to keep the peace. "Hang on!" I told him before chasing the puppy, which meant now I also was running around the huge feet. "I got him! I got him! I-don't got him."

The weapons specialist tracked the little pest carefully, making sure his timing was exactly right before flicking Mojo with a toe-like protrusion, sending him into the flowers.

"Whoa!" I exclaimed, skidding to a halt so I didn't slam into the giant foot, but before I could say anything else that same airborne canine came charging out of the bushes to resume his attack.

Sam started to run over, yelling, "Whoa whoa whoa that's my dog! Mojo off! Off the robot!" but then got distracted as Mikaela came through the gate. "I told you to watch 'em!"

But she was having none of that. Placing her hands on her hips, she replied, "Well I think they're kindof in a rush."

"Well you shoulda done something!"

"Right. Give me a minute to find their on/off switches."

Her comment was enough to sufficiently distract me from what I should have been paying attention to. Having paused my pursuit of the dog long enough to laugh, Mojo took that insightful moment to pee on the giant robot's foot. Said giant robot jerked his foot away and shook it in disgust. He grunted and again flicked the dog, who yelped upon impact but was unharmed. "Augh, oh wet."

"Wait nunononono easy easy hold on hold!" Sam came running in, scooping up Mojo as the great metal foot shook dangerously close to the tiny animal. "This is Mojo! This is Mojo! He's a pet of mine!"

Ironhide grunted again and activated his left cannon, pointing it at Mojo, and by relation of proximity, Sam.

"He's a pet, okay? That's all. If you could put the guns away-Put the-Put them away please."

"You have a rodent infestation." Ironhide told Sam, both his cannons online and spinning now.

"A what?"

"Shall I terminate?"

"No no no no no he's not a rodent he's a Chihuahua! This is my-This is my Chihuahua! We-we love Chihuahuas don't we?" Sam turned to Mikaela for help.

"He's leaked lubricants all over my foot!" Ironhide stated, grunting again angrily.

"He-He-He peed on you?" Sam asked. "Bad Mojo. Bad Mojo!" He told the dog, holding him out towards the offended Autobot.

"Bad Mojo!" Ironhide repeated, which just about sent me into hysterics.

"I'm sorry he's got this male dominance thing. That's all it is."

Finally, Ironhide put his guns away with another annoyed grunt and walked away. "Foot's gonna rust."

I'd always tried to feel sorry for Ironhide at this point in the movie, I had honestly tried. Rusting could not be a fun process, especially if you were made of metal. Yet the closest thing to a sympathetic thought in my head was: Oh, take it like a mech!

Sam, still carrying Mojo, was thoroughly exasperated as he danced in and out of huge Autobot feet, who in turn danced to not step on him, to get to his house. "Sh sh sh! Shut up and go hide!" He hissed at them.

"Just hurry." Optimus replied as Sam darted inside, but instead of hiding, he said, "Autobots, recon."

Well apparently that doesn't mean to hide! I thought, running up beside Bumblebee as he ducked, pulling down the doors that sat like wings on his back and crawling under the deck to look into the family room. He was trying to be discrete, hiding the majority of his bulk behind the windowless portion of the wall and peeking in at the Witwickys from the corner, but if they glanced upwards once, just once…

It was strange, seeing them in person. On screen Ron and Judy had always seemed like a nice couple, two people who didn't deserve the crummy treatment they were about to get. So happy, so blissfully ignorant, so normal…

I didn't stay to watch them for long. I backed away from the window, careful to move out of its field of vision. But what I did not remember was that there was one small step down from the patio to the yard. My backwards-stepping foot had to drop suddenly to find level ground, shifting my weight distribution so suddenly that I could not regain my balance and landed flat-backed on the lawn. "Oof!"

My sudden movement attracted the attention of Optimus. He had been intently observing Sam and he struggled around his room and was becoming increasingly worried. When he looked down at me, I got the feeling that he was considering asking me to speed things up a bit. While I knew exactly where the glasses were, I couldn't be sure that now was the best time to get them. Timing and circumstance were everything. If the Autobots got the glasses early and made it to their location too quickly, there's no telling what they'd have to resort to to retrieve the Allspark, for the humans surely would not hand it over. And what would become of Sam and Mikaela if the bad humans came after the Autobots had left? Oh, and the soldiers were an important part of the convincing factor too, and they weren't here yet.

Before Optimus could ask anything of me, I stood and ran up to someone who could help in a safe way. "Hey Mikaela," I said, slinging my bag off my shoulder. "Could you go help Sam look for the glasses?"

Mikaela looked at me in surprise. "Wait, why me?" she asked, subtly implying what I'd just been thinking.

"I can't help without screwing things up," I replied as I proceeded to take off my hoodie, my hat, and my earrings to put them all in my tote bag. "And these guys are too big. It's better that you look."

The teen considered this for a moment, watching my actions, before asking, "Okay, but how would I get up there without Sam's parents seeing?"

Tilting my head back to look at Optimus, who had been surveying our exchange, I said, "I believe he can help with that."

At first Mikaela seemed frightened by the suggestion, but slowly she accepted it and nodded to the largest of the bots. When he came forward, knelt down and offered his hand, Mikaela hesitated for a moment. Then, cautiously, she stepped up and sat down on the huge metal palm, looking as uncomfortable as could be.

"Oh, and take this," I added, tossing her my tote bag.

Even as she caught it, more confusion crossed Mikaela's face. "Why?"

"I've got lots to do, and I'm afraid I'll lose it." I explained. "Just tuck it somewhere safe in Sam's room for now."

Mikaela nodded before being lifted right up to Sam's window.

"Time is short." Optimus informed the boy inside, who was sufficiently startled to see the girl of his dreams offered up to his room like a present.

"They really want those glasses," I heard Mikaela add shakily before Sam pulled her inside.

As soon as Mikaela was off his hand, Optimus ducked-My gosh, he has to duck to see into the top floor of a large house!-so that he was once again looking through the window. "Please hurry." He implored them anxiously.

When the metal giant moved away, I positioned myself under Sam's window and tried to keep up with what was going on in there. The teenager's voices were hard to hear from the distance, but I had nothing better to do, so I listened.

"Okay, no no no it's definitely gone."

"Wha'do you mean?"

"The glasses were in the bag, they were in the backpack, and now the backpack isn't here."

"Okay, I understand. Dibs on not telling the giant alien robots."

"It's got to be here somewhere. I think what you should do is you should check this whole-"

"Alright."

"Just this section here, just give it a clean sweep and I'll, I'll get the corner here-Yeah n-no no but not, not there that's my, that's my private-Sorry-"

"You told me to look-"

"Well I didn't mean to look inside my treasure chest."

"You should be way more specific so I don't get in trouble in your room or anything, I'm already stressed out enough."

I turned to the Autobots surrounding the house. "Mebbe you guys should tone it down a bit," I said as nicely as I could. "You know, keep a low profile. Blend in."

Apparently their definition of blending in and mine were a bit different, as every one of the Autobots began to transform.

"No no wait!" I protested, running among the shifting forms. "I mean fall back! That's not gonna work! You're not-Oh gosh." I sighed, shoving my fingers through my hair as I walked among the five vehicles.

At the hiss of Optimus's air breaks, Sam came to his window. "What now? … No, no no, no no no. What are they doing?" he asked me.

I threw my arms skyward in a gesture of exasperation.

"This isn't hiding!" Sam said, whether to himself or the Autobots I'm not sure. "This isn't hiding-this is my back yard not a truck stop." He turned form his window, hands behind his head in worried frustration. "Oh gawd, oh!"

Figuring that if transforming wasn't hiding then what was the point, the Autobots returned to their bipedal forms. I scrambled around, avoiding giant feet as the Autobots crowded around the windows of Sam's room. The sight of all of them trying to get a good view was amusing, but it thoroughly blocked my own view, so with a soft groan of annoyance I joined them. Weaving around the tall legs with the upmost care, I wormed my way to the front, which was much easier than it would have been in a crowd of humans. Once at the house, I was careful to stay to the side of Judy's garden as I pressed myself against the wall below Sam's window, and I listened to the Autobots' conversations with the teenagers.

"Have you found them?" Optimus asked, his voice soft, for him, yet still powerful enough to resound through the house.

"Ssssh!" Sam hissed back. "No, I haven't. I dunno where my backpack is."

"Did you look within the oblong clothing-storage device?" Optimus asked.

A pause. "The what?"

"I think he means the dresser." Mikaela suggested.

"Perhaps it is beneath the four-point floor sheath." Said Ratchet.

"Okay, totally stumped."

"The rug?"

I ducked my head and giggled. How much data had the Autobots absorbed on the English language and our world, yet they still could not name common household items.

Sam, however, was not so amused. "No, it's not in or under any of those things. It's in a backpack. My backpack, the same one I take to school with me every day. The backpack is definitely not here."

Optimus stepped closer to the house. "There can be no 'definite' in this matter." He said, causing me to clock my head against the side of the house at his hopeless persistence. "You must continue searching."

"Hey, my mom's flowers!" Sam leaped forward and waved the giant robot away. "Watch it!"

The Prime stepped back to reveal what was left of Judy's garden. It did not look pretty anymore. "Oops."

The boy panicked at what he saw. "Whadid you-Oh no no no, my mom's flowers!"

"I am sorry. The brightly colored weeds will be replaced. But we must have the glasses."

A soft sigh escaped me. Talk about a one-track mind. Then I smiled. Heehee, brightly colored weeds.

Sam shoved that worry away, to be addressed at a later time. He leaned out the window, struggling to stay calm, pressed his hands together and said, "Okay listen. You gotta listen to me. My mom's gonna come out here and she's gonna freak out. My mom has a temper, okay?"

Optimus sighed. "We must have the glasses."

"I know you need the glasses. I've been looking everywhere-they're not here. They're definitely not here."

Then began the expressions of emotion that I had always found fascinating. 100% mechanical, giant aliens from a world so different to our own, yet their expressions of emotion were nearly identical to ours.

Optimus sighed again and pressed his right hand to his face as Sam babbled, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. He groaned, pulled his hand away and said urgently, "Keep searching."

"I need you to be quiet for five minutes." Sam told him. "Ten minutes, okay? Please."

The Prime turned his head to the left, squeezed his eyes shut and tightened the hand he was bracing against the house into a fist. His metal face scrunched into a grimace, round plates where his ears would be twisted and the sound of hissing steam was heard. All clear signs of frustration.

"I'm begging you, you gotta-" Sam struggled as Optimus turned back to him. "You're making a racket. I can't-I can't concentrate. You want me to look-"

"Calm down calm down." Optimus summed up what Sam meant, moving his left hand in downward motions.

Running out of words to say, Sam repeated himself, "You gotta do somethin', you gotta do somethin'."

Optimus turned from the window. "Autobots, fall back and cloak." He said before rising to his full height.

"Please, for five minutes." Sam continued to plead as the Autobots began walking away. "Good, good? Okay."

I ran to keep up with their long strides, dodging in and out of hasty feet. I wasn't being paid much attention to, which didn't bode well for the Autobots watching where they stepped. I didn't mind though. I mean hey, I hadn't been stepped on yet!

"Move!" I leapt sideways to avoid Ironhide's giant feet as he ordered Ratchet, then I leapt the other way to evade Ratchet who replied with a shove. "Get away!"

"What's the matter with you?" Optimus vented at his soldiers as he followed Bumblebee away from the Witwicky house. "Can't you be quiet? He wants us to be quiet!"

With the best comedic timing in the world, Ratchet turned around and ran right into the power lines. "Ow!" he yelled, sparks flying and his sirens whirring to life as he spun away. Stepping over the hedge that separated the Witwickys from their neighbors, Ratchet trudged through the green house and disappeared from view when he hit the ground.

The impact was enough to shake me off my feet, but even if it hadn't been I still would've fallen. Laughter exploded from me so suddenly that if I hadn't already been on the ground my legs would've buckled beneath me. As it was, I sat in the grass consumed in my amusement. Loud, strong laughter flowed freely all the way down from my gut and out into the night air.

For several seconds it rang noisily before I was able to wrap my arm around my face as a muffler. Pressing my mouth into the crook of my elbow, I forced myself to quiet down before I got to my feet and ran over to see if Ratchet was alright. Chocking on my attempts to swallow my laughter, I pushed through the hedge to see Ratchet on the ground. He was still sparking and twitching a little, but he looked alright.

"Wow that was tingly!" Ratchet said as he propped himself up, his voice unusually excited. With a grunt he tried to rise, and failed. "You gotta try that!" he told Ironhide.

"Yeah, that looks fun." The weapons specialist replied sarcastically, turning away just before all the lights on the block went out.

Laughing again at the exchange, I struggled to keep myself upright. I plastered my hands to my face, but that did next to nothing. Gasping for air through them made me dizzy, which in turn made me giddy and just made me laugh more.

Bumblebee backtracked towards the fallen medic, but stopped when he saw me struggling. "What's up with you?" he asked.

"He!-He just!-Did you see?-Now I can't!-I can't!-I can't stop!" My words came in sharp, muffled bursts through my fingers. Once again my legs failed me, and soon I was down on the ground again, laughing away. "I-I can't breathe!"

Probably not the best thing to say at the moment. Mostly because this alarmed Bumblebee, who called Ratchet over. Then the other 'Bots came too. Apparently I was quite the distraction.

At the center of attention was the last place I wanted to be, and my natural shyness immediately began to sober me. However, once I caught sight of Ratchet's…delayed progress, the laughter came bubbling up again. I wrapped my arm around my face, stuffing my elbow crook.

"Well well well, what do we have here?" the medic asked as he stumbled over, his unusually peppy tone causing my laughter to become an embarrassingly high squeak as I struggled on the ground. Ratchet scanned me; thankfully he must have heeded us humans' embarrassment from before, for now the beam of light did not leave me in my unmentionables. "Our little friend here seems to be suffering from a bout of euphoria. Exhaustion in humans releases dopamine into their brains, creating a delirious state, which can cause them to overreact to humorous situations. It can also be caused by lack of oxygen-" Ratchet reached down and pulled my arm away from my face with his fingers, but once I heard how loud my laughter was I quickly replaced it. "Stop it!" he told me. "You'll only make it worse!"

"S-sorry!" I gasped as I sat up, desperately trying to keep my giggles down. "I'm t-trying to stop!"

Ratchet sighed and straightened up, as much as he could, still buzzed in his mannerisms. "What I can't figure out is what's so funny."

My eyes crossed as more laughter threatened to spill forth. "G-go!" I wheezed out, waving the Autobots away with my free arm. "Go help Sam!"

"Yo lil' girlie, are ya gon' be alright?" Jazz asked, which just caused me to laugh more. Even his excessive gangster-talk was funny to me now.

Ironhide grumbled. "This is getting us nowhere." He said, and was quite right. I was just a distraction, a loud hindrance with too much knowledge. A liability. That's what I was.

I knew I had to take drastic measures, so I removed my arm, stuffed my fist into my mouth, and bit down hard. "Ha! Ahaha! Ha! How! Ow! Owow!"

"What're you doing?!" Bumblebee rushed over to me frantically, his alarm echoing that of the other Autobots. "Don't hurt yourself!"

I removed my hand from my mouth and rubbed the teeth marks on my skin with my other hand's fingers, trying to do so discreetly. "It worked, didn't it?"

Bee's eyes widened. "Yeah, but-"

"Go help Sam you guys!" I told them. "Humans can't see in the dark." Ignoring whatever expressions were on the 'Bots faces as they looked at me, I got up from the ground and lead the way back to the Witwicky residence myself, covertly massaging my offended appendage. Hey that almost rhymed!

When we got back to Sam's room, I could hear groaning. It sounded he and Mikaela were picking themselves off the floor. My best guess was that they'd smacked into each other dead-on in the dark, down they'd gone in a heap, and were just now able to get themselves together. From the disgusted noises Mikaela was making, I deduced that the collision had landed Sam in a spot he found favorable and that she did not. I bet she was just about to tell him off when Ratchet turned on a blindingly bright light and shined it, somewhat shakily, at Sam's room.

Then Ron and Judys' voices drifted out, presumably from behind Sam's door, accompanied with knocking. "Sam?-That's weird. Sam?"

"Ratchet, point the light." Optimus told the tipsy medic, who steadied himself enough to direct his light strait through the window, flooding Sam's room even more.

"Come on! Hurry!" Ironhide urged from outside Sam's window.

"Listen, we've got a major issue here." Said boy appeared in said window and leaned out to look at Ratchet. "What's with the light? You gotta stop the light. What's going on? Turn it off!" He turned to Ironhide, who was closer. "You gotta tell him to shut it off. Shut it off!"

"Sam are you in there?" Ron asked, pounding on the door now. "How come the door's locked? You know the rules; no doors locked in my house!"

There was scuffling around in Sam's room but no talking. Sam was probably urging Mikaela to go hide.

Judy and Ron begin talking at the same time. "You know he'll start counting if you don't open this door-One more chance, five-"

"Ratchet!" I tried to help, waving my arms like an air traffic controller to get his attention. "Turn it off!"

"Oh dear-Four-"

"But you said so yourself: Humans cannot see well in the dark." Ratchet looked down at me and replied.

"See he's counting-It's comin' off the hinges pal-Sam just open the door!-"

I rubbed my temples. "Yes but his parents are coming in and they'll see you! You gotta turn it off!"

"Three-Oh-"

Finally, finally the buzzed medic switched his light off, muttering something like, "Lights on, lights off, make up your mind."

I looked up to see Sam leaning out the window again, checking to make sure the light would stay off. "Go!" I mouthed and waved him away.

"Two-He's counting-Stand back-"

The sound of a door opening. "What's up?" Sam greeted, none too casually. "What's with the bat?"

"Who're you talking to?" Ron asked.

A pause. "I'm talking to you."

"Why are you so sweaty and filthy?" Judy wondered.

"I'm a child. You know, I'm a teenager."

Again, Judy and Ron took up the talking-together/over each other-thing. "We heard voices and noises and we thought, maybe-It doesn't matter what we thought-You were-What was that light?"

Then Sam and his Dad talked over each other. "What light? Wh-wh-wh there's no light Dad! There's no light!-There was a light.-You got two lights in your hand!-There was a light coming from underneath the door!-That's what the light is maybe it bou-"

Sam started over with a new angle of attack. "Look you can't-you can't just bounce into my room like that! You gotta knock! You gotta communicate!" Which of course started a three-way talking-over-each-other-athon, Sam vs Ron and Judy.

"We did-we knocked-I'm a teenager-We knocked!-You didn't knock, you were screaming at me okay?!-No!-Y-Y-Y this is repression, is what you're doing here! Y-y-you're ruining my youth!"

"Oh for Pete's sakes!" Judy broke the chain. "You are so defensive! Were you…" Here I plugged my virgin ears. I didn't want to hear this. By the time I removed my ears, it was now Sam and Ron vs Judy.

"That's not somethin' for you to bring up-It's okay!-That's a father and son thing-Father and son thing!"

Again Judy broke away with more awkward words. "I mean you don't have to call it that word if that makes you uncomfortable. You can call it… Sam's Happy Time. Or-"

Ron & Sam vs Judy again. "'Happy Time?!'-My Special-Mom-Stop!-Alone Time-Mom-Judy stop!-By Myself-Mom you can't come in-"

"I'm sorry it's just been a weird night." Judy apologized. "I've had a little bit to drink."

For a second it seemed like all the hustle and bustle were over. Then Sam stuttered, "N-no, Dad-" and Ron continued where he had left off. "Yeah, well, we saw a light."

"Oh, parents." Optimus warned as he waved Ratchet away from Sam's bedroom window, inconveniently placing the Prime directly in front of the open window of Sam's bathroom. A space Ron currently occupied.

"I don't know where it was, but we saw it." Sam's dad said, alerting Optimus to his presence.

"Whoa!" the great Prime exclaimed, and quickly ducked away. Fortunately he'd moved just in time to avoid being seen. Unfortunately, in his efforts to hide, Optimus pressed up against the side of the house too quickly, making it shudder violently.

"Earthquake!" Ron cried. "Another one! Another earthquake! Get in the doorway!"

"Okay!" Judy replied from Sam's room.

"Aftershock! Aftershock!" Ron continued. When the house stood still again, he sighed. "Oh, I hate these."

Somehow, Optimus's movement had caused some sort of backup generator to activate and all the lights, at least in the Witwickys' house, came back to life. Good for the humans, bad for the Autobots.

"Quick! Hide!" Optimus ordered as the parents' voices neared the open window.

"Hide!" Ironhide repeated urgently, no pun on his name intended.

Far from an expert reconnaissance team, the Autobots scrambled around like kindergarteners playing hide and seek. I knew what was coming and wanted to see it, so I was going to hide somewhere across the yard. What I did not expect was to suddenly be plucked up and carried away.

"Hey-!" escaped my mouth before it was shushed by the sudden presence of metal in my face. Rapidly shifting positions kept me still for fear of getting in the way, but when it was over I looked up at my black and yellow captor. He was on his knees and one hand, underneath the Witwicky's porch, clutching me close with his free hand around my upper body, one finger lifted to cover my mouth.

I was about to ask what the big idea was, through the metal, when I noticed Jazz's predicament and began to giggle. Small as he was, the best hiding spots were already taken by the bigger 'Bots. "What? Where?" The confused lieutenant asked, sputtering in a way that used both robotic noises and his own voice. Spinning cluelessly back to the house, he braced his hands briefly on the wall to see how close Sam's dad was to the window. "Oh! No!" he exclaimed softly at Ron's near proximity and ducked. "Man! Man! Oh." he muttered, settling to squeeze himself into a square-shaped room-thing to the side of the porch, directly below the window.

"Ooooooooh no!" I heard Ron moan from the window, and watched the beam from his flashlight shine across the wrecked yard. "Wouldja look at the yard, the yard is destroyed! Ah, Judy, we gotta call the city. We've got a blown transformer." Oh the irony of that phrase would never cease to amuse me.

Speaking of amusing, it was a miracle that the 'Bots stayed hidden at all. Ironhide had shoved buzzed-Ratchet around the corner of the house, but the weapons specialist's shoulders were so broad that they stuck out into view. Optimus was squashed up against the side of the building, rising up on the front edges of his feet like tip-toes, and bracing his torso upwards to minimize contact with the building. Bumblebee crawled around tentatively under the porch, holding me close and ducking when his door-wings bonked the round, hanging lights above him. And Jazz didn't quite fit all the way into that hole. If Ron had looked directly down, or to his left or right, the 'Bots would've been screwed.

And it was hilarious.

I was suddenly thankful for my metal muffler; my laugh attack was starting to bubble back up again.

"Power-poles sparkin' all over the place, oh man, the yard's a waste. Trashed. Gone!" Ron continued to complain before he finally turned away from the window. Thankfully, while he saw all the evidence of the 'Bots, they themselves remained unseen by some miracle.

After another moment of listening to the voices inside, Jazz couldn't keep quiet. Loud enough for us to hear, but not loud enough for those inside, he asked, "Why're we hidin'?"

"Be quiet." Ironhide growled.

A pause. "But… Why're we hidin'?"

"If they see us, the boy's progenitors will become alarmed." Ratchet offered an explanation, his techy words out of place with his quirky demeanor.

Bumblebee looked down at me struggling in his hand. "What's so funny?" an exasperated radio clip played so softly that only I could hear.

I was trying, really trying not to be a nuisance, but it just wasn't working. And for that I was ashamed. "I'm sorry," I said, sobering up a bit and casting my eyes downwards as Bee removed his finger from my mouth, sensing that my sobriety would keep my quiet. My guilt didn't last long though. "But," I said, feeling the laughter in my stomach flutter up like butterflies. "Five giant robots, hiding from two tiny humans, pressed up against a house… Isn't that kind of funny?"

Bee thought about this for a seconds, saying nothing. Then his shoulders began to shake, and his expression became less serious. "I guess—maybe—a little bit." He replied, replacing his finger as we both tried to contain our amusement.

"The parents are very irritating." Ironhide stated, stepping away from the house and bringing his cannons online, evidently done with listening to the humans inside argue.

"Yeahyeahyeah!" Ratchet encouraged, boy that was weird, and pointed Ironhide's left cannon through the window.

"Can I take them out?" the weapons specialist asked, which for some reason I found quite funny, and pressed my face closer to Bee's finger to keep quiet.

"Despite their fragile microbiotic bodies and repeated indications of the contrary, they are sentient life-forms like us." Optimus reminded him. Glancing down at where Bumblebee held me, he added. "No offence."

I jerked my head free of Bumblebee's finger long enough to reply, "None taken." before I was once again consumed by giggles and my muffler was replaced.

"I will do it quickly and efficiently." Ironhide persisted. "They will feel no pain."

"Ironhide!" Optimus snapped, removing himself from his awkward stance to talk to the weapons specialist from the other edge of Sam's room, bracing his hand on the roof of the house. "You know we don't harm humans! What is with you?" Poor Prime just couldn't get a break. I felt bad about it, but laughed some more.

"Well, I'm just saying we could," the trigger-happy 'Bot sulked. "It's an option."

Alarm crossed my caretaker's face when he realized what I was laughing at. I'll admit it is a bit strange to laugh at a giant alien needlessly taking out some of your species. "Okay—how is that funny?" he asked.

By now I was exasperated with myself. "I don't know!" If my hands hadn't been pinned to my sides, I would've thrown them in the air. The good news was that my exasperation chased away my laugh attack. Now I could remember what, or who was coming.

I wriggled around to be let loose, and when Bee noticed my seriousness I was released. Making sure that no one was coming back to the window, I snuck back over to where Optimus stood.

I paused for a moment. Optimus was pretty near his breaking point, and I didn't want to push him. I'd seen him mad, not in person but it was still terrifying, and I did not want that anger directed at me. However, I didn't know how in the movie the Autobots became aware of the Sector Seven agents en route. They probably had some sort of detection programing, but for all I knew, in this world I was the only warning they were going to get.

"Prime!" I whisper-called up to him. When I had his attention, I braced myself, but reported, "There are more humans coming! Bad humans! And they're looking for you! You need to get out of here!"

Even though Optimus had every right to be frustrated and angry-particularly at me-in this situation, he kept his tone soft when he replied. "But we cannot leave the glasses to fall into the wrong hands. You know this."

"I know. I know I know." I tried to reassure him. "And you'll get them. But right now you have to leave. Sam'll find the glasses and get them to you."

"How?" Not a condemnation of my statement as an impossibility; a query on the extent of my knowledge and for further details.

Gulping a bit, because I knew the Autobots wouldn't like this bit, I answered. "The bad humans are going to take Sam and Mikaela-"

"What?!" Ironhide interrupted, his voice borderline revealingly-loud. "I will not allow it! Why should we retreat from humans? We can make a stand for the children and the glasses here and now!"

"Hold up!" I threw my arms to the night sky in a T-formation. "Time out Ironhide! You can't do that! But what you can do," I turned back to Optimus. "Is meet them at the bridge and surprise them. You can get the teenagers back then, and get to the bad guys too. Scare 'um, shake 'um up a bit, you know?" I turned back to Ironhide. "Show 'um your cannons."

There was silence, or at least relative silence with human squabbling in the background, as my suggestion was contemplated. Ironhide's expression had become a bit more agreeable when I'd sweetened the deal, though of course he wasn't so simple-minded that a little bribe could change his mind.

"We would have the element of surprise." Ratchet added, calmer now but still twitching a bit. "If these other humans believe to know our location, they may be too prepared. Not that I'm saying they would be any sort of a challenge for us, but there is the matter of human civilian casualties in a resulting struggle."

Jazz spoke up, to me actually. "Is this what we're s'posed to do?" he asked, leaning of out his hidy-hole a bit. "Like in this movie you were tellin' us 'bout?"

"I am just following the script." I admitted. "I really don't know what would happen if you stayed. Sorry."

Somehow, everyone's gaze ended up on Bumblebee. After realizing this, his eyes widened a bit in surprise, as if he didn't expect to be a part of the decision making process. His hand reached up to rub the back of his neck, his elbow sending some lanterns swinging wildly in the process, but still a very human gesture. "Well, she hasn't steered me wrong yet." He stated. "Got me where I needed to go—kept me on track.—We're here now, aren't we?" He looked down at me. "I think we can trust her judgment."

I swallowed thickly and prayed they'd listen. I was still afraid that my mere presence was going to make things take a turn for the worse.

Finally, Optimus made his decision. "We will retreat to the bridge and cut off the humans there." And none of the Autobots questioned further.

A breath I didn't know I'd been holding in blew out of my lungs with a huff. So far, so good.

I don't know why I was surprised when Bumblebee's door popped open to me. Maybe I just figured they'd leave me here to get taken by the Sector Seven guys too. Sure, I didn't want to go with those creeps, but I guess it didn't really cross my mind that any of the Autobots would even go so far as to think of what I wanted.

Or they just want to keep their info safe, I thought as I hopped in and buckled up. Yeah, that's it.

As Bumblebee rolled back out onto the road, following the rest of the Autobots, I sat erect in my seat, my whole body tense. Something was bothering me immensely. I was trying to think ahead in the movie, but my thoughts were muddled from exhaustion and excitement to come up with a clear picture. Again and again I played the proceeding scene in my head, but every time I did I felt like I was forgetting something important.

After a bit, soft, soothing music began to drift from Bumblebee's radio. Whether this was in effort to calm me or an unintentional, cruel precursor to what was about to go down, I didn't know.

I was just glad they trusted me.