Spiritimus Prime: Well this came out quicker than I had expected. I never thought I would see the day that I would come down and get this chapter done. It's both weird and exciting all at the same time, but at least it's done. No doubt people are going to be whooping in joy and happiness since I've gotten off my ass and decided to do this instead of updating one of my other stories. I sure know that people are gonna be pissed if I don't do something about that habit, but, other than that, I'm glad that I did finally come up with something. Go on and enjoy this!

Chapter 5:

A Close Call

The room was quiet as Jasmine walked in and closed the door behind her. It was dark and gloomy, matching her mood perfectly. Everything was all stacked in a perfect order. Her desk was clean, the floor had showed no signs of having any of the papers she had thrown on the floor, and her bed was neatly made. When she saw that everything was so neat and tidy she felt her insides churn in anger, but she did nothing to express her fury. Jason never cleaned up her room because he respected his sister's privacy and wishes.

Doing nothing but chew her bottom lip in frustration, Jasmine sighed and sat down on her bed, placing her walking stick against the desk next to her bed where her lamp and alarm clock rested, and putting her face in her good hand, the one that was not paralysed. She felt completely helpless without the use of her other arm. Being brain damaged and having a useless arm made her feel isolated and inhuman. Her head ached like hell and every other part of her screamed inside demanding that she get some sleep as soon as possible.

Now that she was nothing more but a freak to the rest of the world, Jasmine felt very alone. How could she go out there and face the world when her own kind would probably shut her out? The doctors probably cared only because it was their job to look after their patients. Jason was her twin brother, he wouldn't do anything to hurt her nor get her into any trouble. They were family and that was all to it.

Jasmine stretched her good arm as far as she could, she tried to move her paralysed arm but her head screamed in agony and she was forced to bite down on her lips in pain to prevent a scream from escaping, causing blood to dribble down. As soon as she felt the pain subside she kicked off her shoes and tried to lie down to get some much needed rest, according to the doctors. Much to her surprise, as soon as her head touched her pillow, she felt something prickly and soft. She sat up and turned to look towards the object that had almost gotten itself tangled up in her hair. A strange scent caught her nose and she wrinkled it to make sure that she was not dreaming.

Lying on her pillow, in a neat bundle, was a bunch of red roses.

Jasmine sat up more, with the help of her good arm, and gently picked up the carefully wrapped tinfoil that was around the stems in a neat manner. There were no creases or any tears in the tinfoil at all. She leaned forward and took a small sniff to really make sure that it was not all a dream.

This was truly puzzling to her. Who would go and waste their time with buying her an expensive bunch of roses? Jason didn't have much money to go and buy her a gift like this. Not unless it was someone who had a huge, damn amount of money.

Then she saw the letter.

Carefully she put the roses down next to her and picked up the neatly folded letter. Opening it, she discovered that there was handwriting she had never even seen before. It wasn't Jason's because it was far too neat and far too perfect to even be his. Yes, she had cursive handwriting and so did Jason, but this was definitely not his or hers. This was what the letter said:

Dear Jasmine Clark,

It is good to see that you are alive and well, I was afraid that you wouldn't make it when we took you to the hospital to save your life. I am terribly sorry about your loss of your truck and your permanent damage that has been inflicted upon your body. It does pain me to see you like this and the guilt will never fade away for what had happened.

On the contrary, I hope that we meet someday at a less dangerous time. When you are ready to hear out the truth about what had happened, I will come to you and explain everything that had occurred on that frightful day when you almost lost your precious life.

Until the day that we meet face to face, when you are ready, stay safe and remember that I'm always watching over you like a guardian angel, as you might say. Look out for your brother and he will look out for you.

From yours faithfully,

Your Saviour

When Jasmine had finished reading the letter, she blinked her eyes in confusion and stood up slowly, placing the letter next on her desk next to her bed and walked up to the window. She peered through the curtains and saw the red and blue flamed Peterbilt semi truck sitting very quietly in the driveway, so innocent and so peaceful, with the evening sun beginning to shine on its fine frame, turning the red into a gold colour that reminded her of the sun in the afternoon.

There's something about you, she thought to herself, that gets me wondering. Are you the one who saved my life or was I imagining it?

Pulling away from the window and limping over to her desk, she sat down and took out her sketchbook that she had used during her stay in the hospital. Jason had been kind enough to buy her something to take away some of her boredom while she recovered from her accident. Carefully, Jasmine took out her pencil with her good hand and started to draw what she thought she saw when she had been pulled out from the wreckage.

A giant blue and red metallic creature with cobalt blue eyes, which held a strange hint of kindness and concern, and a silver mask with strange symbols on the sides of its tall antennas was all that came into her mind. It was a strange thought, picturing something so unusual and not from this world that was way beyond human technology and their understanding. She drew the being standing in front of a sunset, its gaze calm and peaceful as it admired the scenery, a green field filled with grass and flowers that had many different coloured petals.

She had lost track of time until she heard a knock at her door. She quickly closed her sketchbook up and turned to face the door. "Come in," she called.

The door opened up and Jason walked in with a plate that held her favourite meal. Roast lamb with gravy, potatoes, beans, corn, peas, rice, and chopped carrots. He placed it next to her sketchbook and looked her straight in the eye as if he was trying to read her facial expression to find out what she was thinking about. "Why aren't you resting?" he asked.

Jasmine blinked once in confusion and sighed. She didn't want to talk about this. She had a lot on her mind and she didn't want her brother to come along to ruin everything. Yes, she loved her brother like no other, but there were times when he could be damn annoying. Sometimes she wondered whose personality he had inherited from.

"Because," she answered a little coldly, "I don't need to rest. I have too much to think about, like work and money. How are we going to live when I'm the only one who has a damn licence?"

Jason stood up straight and rubbed the back of his head with a hand. There was no point in arguing with his sister, but he knew that he just had to try and see the whole point for her coldness and her hostility. It was driving him nuts and seeing his sister like this just made him even more determined to get her to snap out of it.

"I don't know what's going on, Jazzy," he said calmly, "but you should know by now that you cannot drive or work. Sure you can live with a paralysed arm, but having brain damage makes it even harder for you to do anything at all. Because of that, I'm the one who's going to try for his licence and find a job to help us cope."

"Thanks, Jason," Jasmine hissed sarcastically, "that makes me feel so much better. Like me, you're probably going to wind up in an accident and no one will be here to take of our broken and battered bodies. We've got enough problems on our hands and I don't want you to end up like me."

If Jason had been surprised by her sarcasm, he didn't show it. "I'm not going to end up like you, Jazzy," he said. "It should've been me to get hit on the road and lose the use of my arm and get brain damage, not you. I care too much about you for you to just get up and go get hurt again."

The twin sister looked away from her brother, no longer making eye contact with him. Everything inside of her felt completely alien and unfamiliar, as if she had become her own worst enemy. Her head screamed in protest, but she chose to ignore the incoming wave of discomfort at the back of her mind, and she felt her muscles twitch uncontrollably without warning. She was quick to not show that she had just had a muscle spasm.

"Can you please leave me alone," she whispered as she sighed. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

Her brother sighed and pulled away before placing a fork and knife down beside her plate full of warm food that made her mouth water in hunger. She was starving and she was desperate to get the delicious food into her mouth before the devastating taste faded away into oblivion. Even the bubbling of the pop soda next to her plate mentally sent her into a wild frenzy of excitement and giddiness. She almost failed to notice the painkillers next to the glass and she realised that Jason was trying to make her feel a bit better and to help her cope with the pain.

She watched as Jason backed away until he was standing in the middle of the doorway and looked at her, his eyes holding sadness and grief, especially when he saw the letter and the bunch of roses on her bed. Did he know who had given her the gift or did he not? Whatever was on his mind Jasmine could only guess and wonder if she was correct or not.

"I really do hope you'll feel better and get back to your old self, Jazzy," he said. "I really do miss the Jasmine I used to know."

Without another word, Jason turned and walked out the room, leaving Jasmine alone in the gloomy darkness once again. Jasmine felt nothing but emptiness inside her chest. She felt as hollow as a shell with no soul and no heart to keep her burning as brightly as she used be. Whatever confidence she used to have had died inside her when she had been involved with the accident.

Jasmine reopened her sketchbook and looked at the picture she had just drawn. It wasn't perfect, but at least it was good enough to satisfy her mind about what she believed what her saviour looked like. She couldn't tell if it was male or female but the way how bulky it was and how it held itself with dignity and pride, she knew instantly that it was a male.

She sighed and pulled away from her longing stare and dug into her meal to satisfy the hunger pangs that threatened to pull her from out of her concentration of thoughts that were still nagging at the back of her mind. The sweet taste of the gravy and roast melted on her tongue, causing her to shiver in excitement, she had not eaten this stuff in a long time since her accident and she hated the hospital foods that the doctors had forced her to eat. At least her sense of taste hadn't been damaged in the accident.

Jasmine hardly noticed that she was being watched by a figure that she had sketched from her dream in the hospital while she had been unconscious.

From outside the window, as silent as a ghost, the towering mech, Optimus Prime, watched with curiosity and wonder. His bright blue, cobalt optics were dim so that he would not startle his charge and to make sure that she was unaware of his presence. He had even been watching Jasmine sketch a picture of himself and he had become curious during that moment. So curious that he had almost blown his cover when Jasmine had turned her head away from Jason's steady gaze.

He had seen and heard everything Jason and Jasmine were discussing about even though he had no wish to invade their privacy. It was their business not his. He sensed Jasmine's muscle spasm and almost leapt into action to find out what was bothering only to discover that it was part of her symptoms of her brain damage. It was strange how she could cope with such unusual things that many people suffered from. In truth, she would've died in that accident if it hadn't been for his quick thinking and Ratchet's reflexes.

He still wondered how Jasmine was able to survive such an accident after suffering from mild injuries but still getting one that was very severe in human cases. And yet, he still had to wonder why it was not as severe as he first thought. The only problems she was bound to have was a little difficulty in talking and moving a required limb. The paralysed arm was part of his point.

When he saw Jasmine glancing at the drawing after Jason had left, he retreated a bit to give her privacy and her own personal space. He knew that she had not seen him, but he knew that she suspected him being her saviour. He didn't leave that letter on her bed and that bunch of roses for nothing. He only wanted to give her some reassurance when the time came for him to reveal himself to her. Although he wasn't sure how long that would be and he knew that he first had to win her trust. Again, that would take some time and plus he did have his duties as the Autobot leader to search for the Decepticons to prevent them from doing what they had always set themselves to do.

He blinked in surprise when he saw that Jasmine had fallen asleep at her desk after she had finished her meal and had started colouring in her picture of himself. He was so surprised that he nearly flinched at the sight of her dropping like a log and started snoring a bit. This made it a sheer sign that she really was asleep.

Chuckling, he leaned forward, using his audio receptors to listen to her heaving breathing, and carefully pried open the window. He was a bit shocked that there was no cool breeze blowing when he did this, but at least it allowed Jasmine to sleep on and not be disturbed by his quiet movements.

He stuck his hand through the window and his metallic fingers wrapped around the blanket that was neatly arranged on her bed and he picked it up. Reaching as far as his arm and the window allowed him he spread the blanket with his fingers and very gently placed the blanket over Jasmine's shivering body. Even in her sleep, he knew that she was troubled.

Using a finger, he stroked her back as gently as he could so as to not awaken her. "Sleep well, Jasmine," he whispered as his hand retreated into the night. He closed the window and the stood back from the building, his footsteps so silent that he doubted that Jason would've heard him at all.

Transforming back into his vehicle form, he returned to his original place and prepared to shut himself down into recharge. He was tired from today, but he had tomorrow to look forward to because of Ratchet coming in to check up on Jasmine to ensure that she was properly going to be fine.

A swirl of protective emotions pulsed through his systems and he shivered a little to try and prevent them from surfacing. He knew that if he got too attached to his charge, consequences were bound to follow and he did not want to get too close if anything happened to her. Emotions, to the Autobot leader, were something he could never show. The Autobots needed a strong leader and that was what he was going to give them. Sometimes he grieved for those who lost their lives in this pointless war, but he never showed it as often as people thought he should.

Slowly, he drifted into recharge to sleep the night away. He could only hope that nothing happened in the middle of the night but he reckoned that anything was possible.

As the morning sun peeked through the curtains, Jasmine opened her eyes and she realised that she had fallen asleep on her desk. She sat up and rubbed her eyes tiredly to clear the sleep from them. She didn't hear the gentle thump on the floor of something soft making contact with it until she reached out for her walking stick and stood up, only to see the blanket lying on the floor behind her chair in a crumpled up heap.

Strange, she mused thoughtfully, I don't recall putting a blanket over myself last night. Not unless Jason was kind enough to sneak into my room and place it on.

Shaking her head, Jasmine quietly made her way to the window to get a look at the semi truck that was still parked in the driveway. She was surprised to see it was still there but she wasn't surprised that Jason hadn't taken it with him. Oh that's right; he didn't have a damn licence. So if he was going to be looking after her, the house, getting his licence, a job, and driving the gift he had bought for her, then what could she do to pass the rest of the time and her life?

Screw listening to that bastard about rest and shit, she thought bitterly as her face formed into a scowl, I'm going downstairs whether he likes it or not. I don't need to be babied about things. I can look after myself.

Angrily, she plucked her jacket off the wardrobe's doorknob and tried to get it on, but when she forgot about her paralysed arm and tried to wedge it through, the alarming bells of pain seethed through her torso and head like daggers piercing through her skin.

Jasmine screamed in agony and dropped to the floor, clutching her arm close to her body to try and ease the pain in her head and side. It hurt like hell and she suddenly started twitching, as if she was having a seizure. She tried to move her body, but it was completely out of her control. Fear gripped her like claws grasping at her heart and she could no longer speak. Her vision blurred and red spots danced in her eyesight as the alarming bells kept on tolling through her head. She was alone, frightened and confused as she lost sight of everything.

She didn't hear the sound of the door opening until she heard two voices cry out her name twice. The first person's voice didn't sound familiar, but the second one did. She tried to reach out towards the voices but it was so hard to move and so hard to think and concentrate all at the same time. She was in pure, white hot agony and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

"Slag it!" one of the figures hissed from afar. "She's having a seizure. Make room so she doesn't hurt herself. Move it! Don't touch her and don't do anything stupid."

Clattering, banging, and thudding could be heard all around her as Jasmine struggled to maintain control over her body, but it was no use. Whatever it was that had a tight grip on her head, it felt like it wasn't going to stop any time soon. She thought she was going to keep on going forever until she felt the unusual feeling subside. The muscles stopped twitching, her arm and leg stopped flailing, and her torso relaxed as her breathing finally settled down to a deep wheeze of exhaustion.

"Can we go to her now?" a deep baritone voice asked with a hint of concern in it.

Someone bent down beside her head and checked her temperature by placing a hand upon her sweating forehead before removing it. From what Jasmine could make out of the figure, it was a man in his late forties and he appeared to be wearing a white coat. He was probably the doctor that Jason had mentioned about giving her checkups every now and then.

The doctor glanced up and nodded towards the other two figures that Jasmine couldn't make out from all the blurriness and the exhaustion that was threatening to put her back to sleep. However, like any stubborn person would, she refused to let unconsciousness take over her mind. She felt strong, but warm hands move underneath her armpits and helping her to sit up a bit.

Still a bit twitchy and confused, Jasmine quickly buried her head into the chest of the figure. Fear gripped her mind so powerfully that she refused to open her eyes up until she felt for sure that the danger had passed completely. Whatever it was she had just experienced, she probably didn't want to remember at all. She trembled as the person wrapped his arms around her body to try and take away all the fear and she couldn't help but sob like a little baby.

"It's alright, Jasmine," the owner's deep baritone voice whispered gently. "You're safe now."

"W... what happened?" Jasmine stuttered as she continued to tremble in fear and confusion. "I... I don't... remember much."

"You had a seizure," said the doctor in a calm voice, causing Jasmine to turn her head and look at him in confusion. "It is one of the symptoms of having brain damage. Yours lasted for about two minutes according to my watch. You must've strained yourself when you shouldn't have."

"W... where's J... Jason?" Jasmine asked. She felt stupid for stuttering, but she remembered that the doctors had warned her about having seizures in the future and that, after a seizure, her speech would suffer for a while until a few hours had passed from the experience. "Is... he... home?"

"Your brother has gone to get his licence," the man, who had been holding her, replied. For some reason, his gentle voice provided comfort and promise of protection. "He asked me, Tim Primo, to look after you until he got back. Dr. Ryan Ratchet came by to give you your check up and I was telling him about you when we heard you scream in pain. We came up here to find out what was wrong until we saw you twitching uncontrollably."

Jasmine closed her eyes for a moment to blink back the stinging tears that threatened to pour out from her eyes. She had been so afraid of what was going on that she could barely remember what had happened. Dazed and confused, she twitched again and wept in Tim's chest, her tears soaking his shirt until there was a huge patch of wetness on it.

"Why... did this happen to me?" she cried. "I don't... deserve to be like this!"

Tim sighed gently and pulled her closer to his chest to offer her as much comfort as he possibly could. He hated to feel helpless when this girl was practically asking why she was a freak and no longer her old self. It pained him, but the only thing he could do was be there for her as long as she needed him to be. He even let her hit on the chest with her fists as she continued to scream and lash out with all her might until she barely had the energy to fight anymore.

"Sir," Dr. Ratchet called to get his attention, "can I talk to you as soon as I'm done giving her check up?"

"Yes," Tim answered sombrely, "of course." He then gently lifted Jasmine off the floor, supporting her with his strength and setting her back onto the chair. Using a finger, he brushed the tear-caked hair from out of Jasmine's face and placed it behind her ear so that he could get a better look at her face. "Are you going to be alright?"

The young woman nodded slowly and used the back of her hand to wipe away the dried up streaks of tears. She had never felt so stupid in her whole life, crying on a stranger's arms and hugging him like her life depended upon him. It was weird, but she didn't care. She felt a bit better now that she had released most of her steam, but she also felt exhausted and hungry, and her throat was very sore and dry. It felt like a lump had just formed at the back of it but that was not the main cause of her discomfort. Her head still ached like hell, but at least she was not having a seizure again.

"I'll let you two get on with the diagnosis," said Tim, snapping Jasmine from out of her train of thoughts. "I'll go and get Jasmine something to eat and drink. I'm sure she may need to recover some of the energy she just lost after her breakdown."

"Thank you," Dr. Ratchet thanked as he watched the man walk out the room and closed the door behind him. He then turned back to face Jasmine and smiled kindly at her to provide her some reassurance. He approached a doctor's bag that had been left by the door and took out some needed tools to check the young woman all over. "Other than the seizure, how have you doing since your last check up with the doctors at the hospital?"

Jasmine blinked in confused at the Dr. Ratchet's random joke and shrugged. She knew he was trying to make her feel better, but did he really have to point out the obvious of her close-call? "Sick and tired," she grumbled. "How good does that sound to you?"

If Dr. Ratchet had noticed her taste for sarcasm and took offense to it, he didn't show it. "Well then, Ms. Clark," he said, nodding as he took out a stethoscope, "at least your sense of humour hasn't changed. Tim and Jason have told me that you are quite the charmer. Could you take your shirt off?"

Jasmine knew that wasn't a direct request. Something told her that this doctor was a lot stricter than the ones she had encountered back at the hospital and it was probably better to obey, rather than argue with him. Great, she thought as she carefully used her good arm to take her shirt off, let the freak-show commence.

Spiritimus Prime: Yup! A little bit of a cliffhanger for you people, but at least this is going somewhere where I want it to go. Yes guys and girls, the doctor is Ratchet's hologram, Dr. Ryan 'Ratchet'. The other man, as you may know as Tim Primo, is Optimus' hologram. Finally, Optimus comes up with something from his name instead of something weird and completey not him. Yeah, Optimus is being a big softie like he always does in every fanfiction I write about on him. I love it when he is a softie, so I'm sure most of you do. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter because I seriously need to update Rise from the Ashes. It's driving me nuts with all of this damn suspense. Until the next chapter, stay tuned!