Ahh, classes start tomorrow. I might finish chap 10 tonight, so hopefully it'll be up tomorrow :) And for the person who said the James Bond Aston Martin is better, here are some reasons why I chose the vanquish s. 1) The style of the entire car screams superior without trying to be too flashy. 2) It's a modern classic 3) The James Bond AM made me want to do the driver, and I have to be teen friendly in this fic :) besides i don't want to work out the anatomical issues there :) Anway, enjoy :) xoxox

(bb 2010: ok, so I still use smilies… but holy cow that was a lot of smilies.)

My time in the emergency room was short; Essentially, they put my broken right arm in a cast. When they had prompted me to pick a color, I had demanded red without thinking about it. The doctor gave me a pain shot and after about an hour handed me a bottle of pills (somebody had me on the fast track) and told me I could go.

A nurse led me out the door and to the red Aston Martin in the parking lot. "Look at that car!" she exclaimed. "Your boyfriend must be loaded! Too bad he's so terrified of hospitals. He wouldn't even get out of that thing!"

"He's too big to fit in the hospital," I murmured as I struggled to open the car door against my drug-induced torpor.

"That's right dear, your boyfriend is too big for hospitals." She opened the door for me and helped me in. I melted into the warm seat in relief and I heard her mutter, "Drugged up kids…"

The car pulled away from the curb without any unnecessary revving. Somehow the interior seemed smaller than before, so I looked over at the driver's seat. A brown haired man in his twenties was driving. I watched him until he looked at me with bright blue eyes, and we both smiled.

"Thank you."

"It was nothing."

"It was everything to me."

"Try to rest. We can talk when you're feeling better."

I looked away from the hologram and watched the road, letting the painkillers ease me to sleep. It seemed to me that just seconds later, something was waking me up.

Metal fingers closing around me sent me into an instant mental panic, but my medicated body would barely respond.

I pushed at the fingers that were deftly and gently removing me from Hot Rod's seat. "No. No, please Barricade, please no…"

The huge fingers didn't crush me. Instead they cradled me, and I heard Hot Rod transforming. I looked up at the blue-eyed alien who was holding me.

"No, this is Ratchet. Barricade won't find you here, little one."

I stared up at the blue eyes, so inviting, like Hot Rod's. "Ratchet? You're an Autobot too? How many Autobots are there?"

Ratchet chuckled and I felt a slight nausea as he lowered me into Hot Rod's waiting hands without answering me.

"She'll be needing those painkillers soon, and for at least a few days, maybe longer depending on her tolerance. She should take them with food. You can give her that awful junk food Sam keeps leaving here until he and Bumblebee can get something better."

My arm was in fact beginning to hurt, a low dull throb that I could feel sharpening with every passing moment.

"Right, I'll take care of it. Do you think she'll need anything else?"

"Undoubtedly, humans are incredibly dependent on the group dynamic for survival. She can tell you what she needs when she needs it. You may consider grabbing a cot from the supply room."

"Thanks Ratchet, I'll let you know if something happens."

Ratchet nodded and turned away to some large project of his, of which there were many lined up against the walls. Hot Rod turned slowly, mindful of me in his hands, and carried me out of Ratchet's sickbay.

I drowsed as he carried me around, waking slightly as he gently eased me onto one hand while he picked up a cot from a vast storage room. Later, nudging me, he convinced me to get up and helped me find a glass, the sink, and the pills in my pocket. I took two and was sinking to the floor to go to sleep, tired body and mind, but he held me up with one finger, a box of dingdongs delicately offered between his thumb and forefinger.

"Eat. Just a little, Ratchet said it would be good for you."

"Ratchet doesn't know much about dingdongs does he…" I awkwardly managed to get into the box with one hand, tore open a wrapper with my teeth, and ate a couple unenthusiastically. I crunched the wrapper up and put it back in the box. The kitchen, which seemed to be part of a larger room, was sparse, clean with an antiseptic feel. I sighed dramatically and looked up at Hot Rod, my eyes pleading.

He laughed and put his hand down on the floor for me to climb into. "Lookin pitiful doesn't work on me, I'll have you know. I'm just an all around nice guy."

I smiled up at his merry eyes, feeling completely safe for the first time in my memory. "Know what I think?" He shook his head so I continued, "I think you're just a big softie at heart."

He groaned and started walking again, and I took a look around as we went. The huge halls, far taller than Skywarp if I had to guess, were dotted with random doorways, most of them monster-sized Just a few were small enough for a person to muscle open.

"Just because I'm absolutely charming, and handsome to boot, does not mean that I'm a softie. I'm an absolutely awful enemy to have, you know."

"Yeah, yeah, I saw you back there. Doesn't matter, though. You were just doing what you had to, it wasn't what you wanted to do…" My voice was trailing off. The pills were acting fast on my nearly empty stomach.

"And how do you know that?"

"Your eyes."

"Ah, I would've said it was my expressive mouth," he said wryly

A new voice came from ahead. "Yeah, Hot Rod, plenty comes out of that big mouth of yours." We both looked for its source, too absorbed in our conversation to notice anyone else. The yellow and black Autobot from the rescue, Bumblebee, was standing in the hallway looking grumpy.

"Aw, come on Bee…"

"You told Ratchet and Ironhide that you did the rescue without bothering to mention that I was there to cover your fancy Auto-butt!"

"I forgot, ok Bee? I'll make sure to tell the whole base about how you saved us all from certain destruction, but I can't right now. I've gotta get our little friend settled."

Bumblebee looked at me with new interest. "Eh, it just means I dodge the protocol bullet, anyway. How are you feeling, Bravura?"

"Tired. Better than before. Thank you for helping me."

He smiled, all his annoyance disappearing. "It was my pleasure! If you start getting lonely up here, I'm bringing Sam tomorrow. You should meet him. He's great company."

I frowned. "Who's Sam?"

Hot Rod answered, saying, "Bumblebee is Sam's guardian. Sam is the human who helped destroy the All Spark in Mission City."

"Oh…" I was barely able to keep my eyes open now, and Bumblebee must have seen it in my face.

"You should find her a place to sleep Hot Rod, she looks like she's going to drop."

"Yeah, see you Bee."

We went on down the corridor, and I dozed off before we got there.

I woke up from a bad dream with a start, lying in nearly complete darkness. I say nearly, because I could see Hot Rod's eyes glowing not too far away. His eyes turned to me and gently he said, "You were crying in your sleep."

I sat up and reached up to my face. He was right. My face was wet.

"What were you dreaming about?"

I stared down into the darkness where my hands we now resting in my lap. "Barricade, when he killed them…" Tears started springing to my eyes all over again, and Hot Rod's blue eyes moved closer as he leaned towards me, one hand cupping my back supportively. I hadn't noticed; He was warm, not cold like I had always envisioned the robots.

"I can't do anything to change what happened, and I know you're lonely, but just remember that you will always have me from now on. I'll protect you."

I leaned back, thirsty for the comfort, and pressed the side of my face against his warm hand.

Neither of us moved for a long time, until Hot Rod shifted slightly. "Ratchet just told me it's about time for another pain pill. You want one?"

I hadn't even noticed my arm throbbing, so absorbed in being with Hot Rod that it had seemed to disappear. Now that he mentioned the pain, it flared to life. "Yeah, I could use some more."

He scooped me up, mindful of my arm, and an interior light came on. It revealed a huge room by my standards, but somewhat small by Hot Rod's. There were some gadgets and what looked like medals scattered around, but nothing that completely made sense to me. He carried me out into the brightly lit hallway and we went to the kitchen in companionable silence.

Edited March 12th, 2010