Spiritimus Prime: This is both sad and shocking. I think I'm gonna have to change the summary on this, it obviously doesn't explain enough. Oh well. I'm glad that some people like this story so far. I'm gonna have to go and update Rise from the Ashes soon enough. I'm enjoying all this updating because I'm able to find the time to do so. Would it be great just to live my easy life? XD That's enough chat from me, just come and enjoy the... horror of a truckcrash result. XD

Chapter 2:

Bringer of Bad News

Jasmine hardly remembered a thing. Her sight, smell, and sense of balance had gone completely numb to her entire body and the only thing she could do was touch and listen. Her whole body ached all over, but she could do nothing about it. Half of her mind was unconscious, but the rest were well aware that she was lying on a warm, but hard substance. She heard voices and things that she didn't understand, but one of them was deep and rang like bells through a church, and also filled with calming forces that made her feel secure. But there was so much going on that she could hardly tell where it was coming from.

"Is she going to be alright, Ratchet?"

"I'm not sure, but from the looks of those injuries, I'd say that she'll have to be taken to a human hospital. I am capable of treating such things, but my fingers are too big to do such care at all. I'll have to take her to the hospital and ensure that they'll give her the treatment she needs."

A deep sigh was heard from above. "Very well, but do you need an escort to make sure that Starscream doesn't attack again?" the deep mechanical voice asked.

"Yes, it would be wise. I'm sure you're capable of doing it, no?"

"Of course I will, Ratchet," the first voice answered, making a huffing sound.

"Be gentle with her, Prime," said the second voice, which had changed from calm to concern. "She may have suffered a head injury, but I'm not sure. She's unconscious in a few places, but I'm sure she can hear us."

Another sigh from above emitted. "It doesn't matter, Ratchet. We have to make sure that she gets proper medical treatment as soon as possible."

Metal was grinded against each other, as if someone was nodding. "Very well then. Let me transform and you can get her into my back."

There was a shifting sound metal hitting metal and then sudden silence. Jasmine felt the substance move beneath her slowly until she felt herself sliding off of it. A wave of sudden terror gripped her heart and she shook violently. The feeling was overwhelming and she wanted to scream, but her mouth did not move, nor did her voice. She was completely helpless.

"Why is she shaking like that?" the deep voice asked in concern.

"It must be the shock that's overtaking her brain," the second voice answered. "We must be quick if she is to be alright. She's not even out of the danger zone. Hurry!"

There was another sound of metal sliding against each other and a door closing. Jasmine felt something warm slide over her body and she knew that someone had placed something soft across her body. The violent shakes did not cease, but at least she was warm and safe from the freezing temperatures outside.

As soon as she heard a deep vibration, she sensed something gently rub her arm and then a prickling feeling was stabbed in her arm. She wanted to scream out in pain, but her jaw still wouldn't work. Was something causing it to stop, or was it something else? She wasn't sure, but she suddenly began to realise that her hearing and sense of feeling were beginning to fade off into nothingness. She was afraid, but her mind drifted off once again into darkness.

When Jasmine finally opened her eyes again, she was completely aware that she was lying on something soft and comfortable with a blanket draped over her body, its warmth keeping in her body heat and ensuring that she did not wake up with a chill.

She glanced around, but found she could not move her neck at all. She mentally cursed herself when the pain shot through her back like a bolt of lightning going down a pole. It passed as soon as it had started and she calmed down enough to use her eyes to look around instead. She realised that her arm was in a bandage and the top part of her head was wrapped up as well. She even felt her neck was in a bandage as well, including her right leg and abdomen. It seemed like she'd done more damage than she'd thought.

"Sis, you're awake!"

Jasmine's eyes darted over to Jason, who was sitting on a chair next to her bed, and she was embraced in a warm hug that sent security running through her body. She wrapped her good arm around her brother, returning the gesture.

When they let go, Jason returned to his seat and glanced at Jasmine. "I'm sorry about what happened to your truck, Jazzy," he said softly.

Jasmine felt something tighten in her chest and she looked away, unable to say anything. Her last gift from her father was gone, completely ruined by something that was beyond her understanding. Fear clutched her mind, but she let the touch slide. Without her Silverflame, she felt completely helpless and alone.

"Jazz, are you okay?" Jason asked, getting his sister's attention.

Tears filled Jasmine's eyes and burst out crying. "Why was he taken from me!?" she wailed. "Why did it have to be my Silverflame?"

Jason was at a total loss. He could do nothing as he watched his sister breakdown in front of him. He knew how much that truck meant to her, and he had called her crazy because of her sometimes thinking that it was alive and would listen to her better than he could. As crazy at seemed, it had been the last gift that their father had given to Jasmine. And Jason guessed that she liked to think that their parents' souls resided in Silverflame.

"I wish I could make it up to you, Jazz," said Jason gently, "but the doctor says that you may have suffered more than just physical injuries."

Jasmine calmed down and looked at her brother. "What do you mean?" she asked.

Jason wasn't sure how he was going answer his twin sister, but someone was going to have to tell her. "Jazz," he said slowly, "you may have suffered brain damage."

Jasmine felt her heart come to a complete stop. "B… brain damage?" she breathed.

Jason sighed softly. "The doctors are still looking into the X-rays they took while you were sleeping," he explained. "So far they've found out that you've broken a lot of bones including your ribs. That's why it's difficult for you to breathe." He motioned to her bandaged head. "They're checking your skull fracture and have told me the possibility that it may have done some ideal damage to your brain. They're not sure, but they told me just in case."

Jasmine felt a shake coming onto her arms and she tried to stop them. She was so afraid of the results that she began to believe that she may be considered as a freak amongst everyone. What would they think of her now? Would she get a new job? Could she still drive a truck, or perhaps move at all?

"Sis, it's okay," Jason said as he gently placed a hand upon his sister's hand, calming her down. "You'll pull through this, I know you will."

Jasmine knew that bad news may come in the end, but she did the best that she could to keep herself as calm as possible. However, it seemed like her body had other ideas and she found herself shivering violently every few hours. At first she believed them to be just tremors of shock. But as they continued, she began to feel a wave of panic overtaking her mind completely. She was utterly afraid of what may become of her.

When the doctor, who claimed his name was Dr. Michael Smith, walked into the room, he shook hands with Jason and then looked at Jasmine closely before he decided to give her check up. As he took out his stethoscope, he sent Jasmine a friendly smile that promised her that he wasn't going to harm her, and he listened to her lungs and heart.

"So how are we doing today, Ms Clark?" Dr. Smith asked, trying to start a conversation with Jasmine.

"I… I'm… alright," Jasmine answered, stuttering with her words and she growled in frustration at the complication with the words. She had never had any trouble with speaking before and she felt devastated. Was this part of the brain damage that Jason had told her about?

"Are you not experiencing any discomfort in anything?" Dr. Smith asked as he took out a clipboard and a pen.

"My… head… hurts," Jasmine replied. She could feel her hands balling into fists and she wanted to scream out in anger. She could hardly talk as much words as she used to. The hit came down like a tonne of bricks and she burst out crying again. "Why…?"

Dr. Smith smiled sadly, knowing that he was going to have to break the news to this poor girl. "Ms. Jasmine Clark," he said softly, "I believe you do have brain damage. From what we have seen, the skull has been fractured and some of the bone has damaged the receptors that normally allow you to talk like an ordinary human. Not only were those damaged, but your ability to move in the right arm has become… paralysed."

The shock came harder than Jasmine had expected. It was worse than a tonne of bricks, and it was worse than a tidal wave. The broken arm that she had suffered could no longer move or pick things up ever again. She felt helpless and afraid, and the fear could do nothing except creep further into her head like a spider stalking its prey through the night.

"Is there anything you can do, Dr. Smith?" Jason asked quietly. He could see the distress that his sister was in, and he was doing everything he could to calm her down. He hated to see her like this, but it only pained him even more.

Dr. Smith sighed. Why did he always have to come along and bring his patients the bad news? He hated seeing them in tears and it tore out his heart when he witnessed it. God, he thought, what did I ever do to deserve this? "The only thing we can do is find someone who can help your sister overcome the brain damage and a paralysed arm. The bones will heal on their own accord, but I believe the hardest thing to repair is her spirit."

Jason lowered his head, feeling like he would be carrying a heavy burden on his shoulders. He knew that his sister would need help coping from the injuries that she had suffered. Not only that, but she may never be able to drive a vehicle ever again. What could he do to make up for the loss that she was dealing with?

"I… want… to… go… home," Jasmine sniffed, getting the doctor's and Jason's attention.

Dr. Smith gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "You will get a chance to go home, Ms Clark," he said kindly, "but you'll need to allow your bones to heal, especially your head and your ribs. They were the ones that suffered from the most damage."

Jasmine sniffed again, but she nodded slightly.

"Our estimations of your bone healing will be six weeks," said Dr. Smith. "Your head may take the longest, but while you are under our care, we will do the best that we can to make you feel comfortable."

With his duty done, Dr. Smith turned and walked out the room, leaving the twins to mourn over the upsetting news. He felt awful for doing such a thing, but he knew that things may get a lot tougher for them now.

As Jason walked out of the hospital, he felt a pang of guilt hit the pit of his stomach. He didn't really want to leave his sister all alone in the hospital, but he had to think of his own needs at the current moment. He had been at the hospital for nearly two weeks since the accident and his sister had been unconscious for that long. He had never left her bedside at all, but the doctors had kept on pulling him away when they saw the black lines forming underneath his eyes. But, now that Jasmine was awake, he could finally relax and go home.

However, there was one problem for him. Jason did not have a car on his hands since he'd taken a taxi ride to get to his destination. At this time, the taxies would be all booked out and he could not help but feel stupid.

"Excuse me."

Jason jumped and turned to look for the speaker, but all he could see was a large Peterbilt truck with a blue chassis and red flames coating its bonnet. Confusion swept around his head and he looked around to try and find the person who spoke, but there was no one except himself and the Peterbilt. "I must be hearing things," he said out loud.

"No, you are not."

Jason whirled towards the voice, but he still couldn't see anything. "Okay, quit messing with me and show yourself!" he growled.

"Are you humans always this blind?"

Jason frowned and he turned towards the Peterbilt, lifting an eyebrow. "You can talk?" he asked, tilting his head to one side. It had never occurred to him to be talking to a vehicle, but this one was no different. But when he looked at the vent on the front of the truck, he realised that this was no ordinary truck.

"I can do more than just talk, Jason Clark," the truck answered with its deep, metallic voice. "I am much more than just a simple vehicle that is sitting before you."

"How did you know my name?" Jason demanded as he gave truck a quick kick with his foot. "I'll bet you're just stalking me so that you can do something to harm my sister."

The truck vibrated, but did nothing else. "I can assure you that I would never harm your sister," it answered. "How I know your name is quite simple. I looked you and your sister up through the World Wide Web."

"Oh great," Jason said sarcastically. "So you're a know-it-all, and a computer expert. That's very clever of you. But that still doesn't tell me who you are. Trucks do not talk, even though my sister likes to believe her truck, Silverflame, was possessed by our parents' souls for some reason. Why am I even telling you this nonsense? You're a truck and I'm supposed to be getting home."

The truck opened its passenger door. "Perhaps I can give you a lift and I can explain everything. How does that sound to you, Jason?" it asked.

Jason hesitated at the gesture. "How do I know that this isn't some kind of trick to let my guard down?" he asked.

"I did not ask for your trust, Jason. All that I want from you is your ears."

"My ears?" Jason asked.

"In your human speaking terms, I would be referring to you to listen to me talk. I have a lot to explain with Jasmine Clark's accident and I wish to know how she is."

"You were there when it happened?"

The truck gave a giant heave and Jason knew that it was a sigh. He took a deep breath and let it out before he climbed into the truck. He heard the door close behind him and felt seatbelts strap over him, tightening up a little bit to make sure that he was secure and safe. Jason was shocked to see that there was no one in the driver's seat, but he said nothing about it.

The truck roared into life and it drove out the car park of the hospital. It then headed west in the direction of where Jason and his sister lived.

Jason sat there in an uncomfortable silence. He wasn't sure what was going on or what this truck had in mind, but he knew that he would not rest until he got some answers as to why an F-22 Raptor would attack his sister just like that. It hardly made any sense to him, and he doubted it wouldn't until the truck spoke.

"Jason, we're here at your living quarters."

Jason jumped again when he realised that he'd been spaced out for nearly half an hour. The truck's door had opened and the seatbelts had unstrapped themselves. Getting out of the truck, he leapt onto the cement of the driveway and glanced at the vehicle with unsureness in his eyes. "Are you going to talk or not?" he asked a little impatiently.

The truck made a deep vibration and Jason got the feeling that it was laughing at him. "You are a strange human, Jason," said the truck. "Yes, we will talk, but not out here."

"What do you mean?" Jason asked.

"Can you open the gate to your backyard?" the truck requested. "I wish to talk about things with you undisturbed. I know that there can be prying eyes and ears sometimes in these streets."

Jason blinked and shrugged his shoulders. "If you say so," he said and approached the gate that led to the backyard behind the house. While it was not very big, it was still large enough to hold two trucks if they were parked side by side or in front of each other. He watched as the truck drove forwards and into the backyard before he followed in suit.

As the truck did a U turn until it was facing the house, Jason knew that he was going to be here for quite a while, so he found himself a chair and he set it down on underneath the veranda before he sat down, waiting for the truck to speak, but nothing was exchanged between them, nor did the truck say anything. "Aren't you going to talk?"

"I apologise for my silence, Jason," said the truck. "I was in another world at that time."

"Well, what do you know of the accident?" Jason asked.

The truck gave another sigh. "It would not be best for me to show you, Jason," he said slowly. "Perhaps it would be best if I show you my reasons for this privacy."

And before Jason even knew it, the truck's metallic plating began to shift and scatter into many different directions. Everything all became a blur to his eyes, but he watched in amazement as legs and arms began to form from truck's sides and undersides as well. He blinked as the truck's top released a head that was robotic in appearance and was navy blue in colour with electric blue eyes that had coverings that acted as eyelids.

Jason wasn't sure how tall the robot was, but his estimations of being 30ft or 32ft were his best guesses. He darted back in surprise when the robot got down on its hands and knees, its face leaning further and further until its nose was just mere inches from his own.

"Are you satisfied with the results?" the robot asked in the same deep voice that sounded male.

Jason blinked and rubbed his eyes, trying his best to not think it was a dream. It's a dream, he thought, it's just got to be a dream.

"I can assure you that this isn't a dream, Jason," said the robot, which made that same sound with the deep vibrations in his chest.

"How did you know what I was thinking?" Jason asked in surprise.

"I didn't," the robot answered. "Your body heat increased dramatically and that proved that you were under stress. Sometimes the human body can be quite interesting to my scanners."

Jason shook his head. "So what's your name, Mr. Robot?" he asked.

The robot frowned and his metallic lip plates tightened. "My name is not 'Mr. Robot'," he said a little sternly, but not unkindly. "My designation is: Optimus Prime."

Spiritimus Prime: Yeah I know, I suck at describing transformations such as the movie ones. Every time I try to go into detail, I become lost in Optimus's transformation scene and it becomes impossible to write out. Oh dear lord, someone save me from this insantiy of Oppy goodness! Damn bot is so smexy! XD Enough talk, just please R&R about this, it drives me crazy to not hear anything. :O