Author's Note: And here's chapter 4!

A lot of people have been asking about Noah, and, while I would've liked to have kept that tidbit secret, I think it makes more sense if I reveal what happened earlier on. So, you're questions have been semi-answered! :D

And! We learn about Lyra! I really haven't given much on her character. Like, what's her favorite thing to do, is she smart, etc. So, I decided to reveal some of her personality and interests. I'll explain more at the bottom.

Edit: 9/22/12 Typos and some grammar mistakes have been fixed!

Chapter 4

Robotics and Burning Cold

Somewhere over the Atlantic, Kristopher Montez was on a U.S. Air Force plane. On his way back home. Well, sort of.

Figg had been horribly injured, and, after being rushed to the nearest medic, the Special Ops team was anxiously awaiting the 'verdict', as Epps had called it. Kris, who, although he had only known the downed soldiers for a short while, had forged a bond with the only other Hispanic man on the team, was distraught. He had watched the explosion that had hospitalized his friend.

Now, the culprit for his current emotional stress was strapped to a table, being examined by the team.

"It's like a self-regenerating molecular armor" a man said. Kris hadn't bothered to learn his name or rank, for he was too preoccupied with the metallic scorpion. It looked like something his daughter would be fascinated with. She was, after all, really into science. He could just imagine the fascinated look that would be etched onto her face if she could examine this thing like they were right now.

Of course, Kris reminded himself, she had expressed her dislike for robotics.

"There's a reason only woman can create life, daddy," Lyra had told him seriously. "It's because men would just use what they made for war."

He hadn't understood it at the time—robots were used in assembly lines, he had thought—but now he knew what she had meant. This robot had wounded his comrade; imagine what would happen if there was an army of them.

"Look at the scorch mark where the sabot round hit," Will said, peering at the hole with a magnifying glass. "Melted right through." He turned to Epps; "Hey, aren't sabots hot-loaded for, like, a 6000-degree magnesium burn?"

Kris whistled lowly. That was, for lack of a better word, hot.

"Close to it. It melts tank armor," Epps responded.

"So this metal skin must react to extreme heat," Will surmised.

"Metals a good conductor," Kris said, eying the 'cargo' warily. They had been ordered to bring it with them to be examined. Dissected was the word he would've used, but, whatever. "I imagine the heat would've spread to more of its body."

As if it were answering them, acknowledging that they were right, the scorpion's tail shot up. Shouts of "head's up!" and exclamations like "oh!" and "whoa!" filling the plane. The scorpion lunged its tail towards Epps whom backed away quickly, narrowly avoiding becoming a kabob.

"I thought you said that thing was dead, man!" Epps yelled accusingly as the tail went back into its previous position of being flat on the table. The team swarmed it, holding it down as Will ordered them to "strap it down."

"This thing is wicked," he said, his youth becoming evident as he glanced at the machinery. He turned to Epps, his role as leader shrouding the kid persona he had as he started firing off orders. "All right, get on the horn with Northern Command. Tell them that our effective weapon is high-heat sabot rounds. Recommend we load them on all the gunships. Go."

Lyra wasn't awake, that much she could tell. But she was sure that she wasn't sleeping either. No, she was in a dark alley that smelled of oil and booze. The question was how did she get there?

The last memory Lyra could bring up was Mikaela wrapping her side with ripped fragments of her favorite shirt. Then, after the dark haired teen had finished tying the last knot, she couldn't remember a thing. It was just blank, a never ending abyss of nothingness.

Now the brunette found herself in the alley with no pain from her previous escapades, nor any signs of her struggles. Lyra had to admit, though, that everything felt heavy. Her arms and legs were like lead, and her head—her mind—felt like it was holding up a cinderblock. Her lips were sewed tight, frozen, and her chest was so…cold.

Lyra struggled to remember where she had felt this cold before. It was so familiar. Where had she felt it? The girl forced her hand up to her chest, over the freezing area, hoping in vain to warm it. Her fingers ran over something hard, something metal, and she pulled her hand back as quickly as she could manage. What—?

The brunette glanced down, but only managed a brief glimpse of a silver flash. Lyra's confusion only grew. What was that? A necklace, perhaps? She couldn't recall ever having been wearing one—she despised it when the chains caught on her hair—but then she remembered that she was dreaming: anything can happen when you're dreaming.

But still, the silver chain around her neck was freezing. It was so cold against her pale skin that it burned. As the thought processed in her mind, she started hearing a distinct thud! thud! thud! coming towards her, growing faster. Lyra looked towards the mouth of the alley, the burning flaring as her ears picked up the soft, rapid patter of sneakers on pavement.

Not three seconds later, a boy came running in followed by a giant robot with red optics: a Decepticon. A gasp escaped Lyra as the boy ran past her, the robot following. It wasn't the close proximity with the giant metallic being that left her breathless; it was what she had seen when the boy had run by.

It was Noah!

She tried to open her mouth to yell out to him—Run! Hide! Get away!—but her lips refused, so she settled for watching helplessly as the Decepticon cornered her brother.

"Megatron will be pleased," the Decepticon said, musing to himself. It was practically impossible to discern the large being from the dark alley; he was, after all, painted black.

"Wh-what a-are you gonna do…do w-with me?" Noah stuttered out.

The Cybertronian didn't reply; instead, it reached out, grabbing him up in his robotic hand. Her brother's cry for her—"Lyra, help me!"—was matched with her own scream of "Noah!" The pain of her lips ripping open and losing her brother causing her voice to raise a few octaves.

Lyra was alone when she awoke, the scream passing her lips for a few moments before she had the thought to cover her mouth with her hand, muffling the sound. The dream—it was so real! Tears slid down her face, unintentionally making her skin sticky and grimy.

The seat vibrated underneath her, and it was all it took to remind Lyra that she wasn't alone: she was inside Bumblebee. Her screaming stopped as sobs climbed their way up her throat. In the back of her mind, she heard herself muttering "Noah…Noah…Noah…" over and over.

"Lyra? Are you alright?"

Her hazel eyes instinctively flew up to the speaker, landing on Mikaela. Sam was next to her, peering down at Lyra in concern.

"Y-yeah. Ni-nightmare," she whispered her throat stinging slightly after her screaming fit. Yet another thing to add to her extensive list of injuries.

Mikaela looked at her skeptically, but said nothing on the matter. She placed a comforting hand on her shoulder before sliding into the passenger seat. Lyra briefly wondered what scene in the movie she was in, but dismissed it quickly.

She felt hollow, as if something bad had happened to her world, to Noah. Lyra prayed that her dream was just that, a dream, and not reality. However, as Bumblebee pulled out onto the road, she noticed that her lower neck region burned. It reminded her of the necklace she wore…

"We're going to meet the others," Mikaela suddenly said, disrupting Lyra's wondering thoughts. "While you were sleeping, they landed."

"Oh," she said, rubbing at her neck, "okay."

It was quiet again. The brunette didn't want to know what was going on in her companions' heads for fear that they were thinking about her and her nightmare.

"Who's Noah?"

Her fears were justified.

"You don't have to answer that, Ly."

That hurt. Noah called her Ly. So did her dad. Now Mikaela.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "It's fine, 'Kaela. Sam was just curious."

That was it. No elaboration. No answer to the boy's question. And absolutely no explanation as to why she had opted to shorten the raven haired girl's name.

Lyra needed to keep herself safe; her safety was Noah's safety. Getting attached to Sam and Mikaela, sharing things with them, it would make it harder to leave later. There was no way, she told herself, that she would let her little brother get caught up with them, caught up with the war. For now, Lyra would get the Autobots to help her find Noah, and that was that.

Bumblebee pulled into an alley, the eerie similarity to the one in her dream making the brunette shiver. She was distracted, however, by the vehicles driving towards them. The three teenagers peered out the windshield curiously. Slowly, ever so slowly, they got out of the Camaro, Mikaela having to help the injured teen out as to prevent any more injuries.

Once they were out, and the vehicles had driven to an uncomfortably close distance, they began to transform. Before, when her mind had been crowded with pain, Lyra hadn't noticed how breathtaking the whole process was. Watching it on a television screen was nothing compared to this.

Optimus Prime, the tallest and most captivating of the group, kneeled before them, his presence commanding attention as any born leader should.

"Are you Samuel James Witwicky, decedent of Archibald Witwicky?" he asked, his voice carrying through the alley.

"They know you're name," Mikaela whispered, stuck between being awestruck and utterly flabbergasted.

She was more or less ignored, the only response to her words being the tightening of Lyra's grip on her shoulder as the brunette attempted to keep herself from falling over.

"Yeah," Sam breathed.

"My name is Optimus Prime. We are autonomous robotic organisms from the planet Cybertron," the blue and red leader introduced.

"But you can call us Autobots for short," another Autobot cut in. Ratchet, Lyra thought his name was.

"Autobots," Sam said, testing the words out.

"Autobots from Cybertron," Lyra said to herself, digging up an old memory between herself and Noah in which he tried to explain how ludicrous the idea that they were alone in the Universe was. "Makes since. The closest thing we have to them is quantum mechanics, and even that's just a theory."

"What?" Mikaela asked, turning to her friend in confusion. She had been the only one to pay attention to what the brunette was saying, and Lyra just blinked, glancing at her dark haired companion in confusion. She had, as was usual when speaking about scientific topics, gone to her own little world.

"What's cracking, little bitches?"

The trio turned around to see a short, silver robot flip onto a car, resting his arms behind his head.

"My first lieutenant. Designation, Jazz," Optimus said, answering the humans' unspoken question: who the hell is this guy?

"This looks like a cool place to kick it." Mikaela and Lyra exchanged disgusted looks. Cool? A smelly alley? Seriously?

"What is that? How did he learn to talk like that?" Sam asked, clueless as to how an advanced alien race could be so…so...that.

"We've learned Earth's languages through the World Wide Web," the Prime said, straightening up. That explained it…

He gestured to the black bot behind them (Lyra's heart instantly started pumping as she saw the black paint, but she relaxed when she realized it wasn't the Decepticon from her dream). "My weapons specialist, Ironhide."

The mech's arms shifted, revealing twin cannons on each individual limb, and he aimed them at the group. "You feeling lucky, punk?"

"Easy, Ironhide," the leader warned.

"Just kidding. I just wanted to show them my cannons." The similarity between Ironhide and a small child was amusing to Lyra, but she kept her thoughts to herself. Pissing off the giant robot that was equipped with cannons wasn't the smartest idea, she told herself.

Sam chuckled nervously as Optimus introduced Ratchet who was…sniffing the air. "The boy's pheromone level suggests he wants to mate with one of the females," he said, not understanding that what he was insinuating was relatively taboo.

Sam and Mikaela shifted uncomfortably; they knew which female Ratchet was referring to.

A jet of light scanned over the teens, lingering on Lyra for a bit longer than the rest. "My scans indicate that the smaller female has numerous shards of silicon dioxide embedded in her subcutaneous layer, a minor concussion, and a particularly deep laceration in her side. I believe this would be a situation to take her to a 'hospital'," Ratchet said, reading off Lyra's injuries without missing a beat.

"No! No hospitals," the brunette said, shaking her furiously before she realized how bad of an idea that was. Her vision swam slightly, her grip on Mikaela tightening again. "I-I'm fine. Really. And my name is Lyra, not 'the smaller female'."

"Well, Lyra, leaving your wounds unattended could result in extensive and irreparable damage. Not to mention offlining," Ratchet said, pushing the issue. Why were humans so stubborn?

"I don't care. I-I can't go to the hospital. Not now; I can't go yet." She felt so helpless. How could she say that she needed to stay so that they could get her little brother back without sounding mean? Did it even matter? She'd go to the end of the world and back for Noah; sounding rude to a bunch of robots was nothing compared to that. "M-my brother…"

It was as far as she could go, not being able to say anymore. If she uttered the words out loud, Lyra knew she'd either breakdown crying or go on an enraged tantrum. The Decepticons had her brother; it wasn't a dream: she knew, deep down, that it was real. The thought of how insane it sounded never crossed her mind because, she knew that, when it came to her brother, she was insane. The lengths she'd go to wasn't something any sane person would even think of doing.

"What of your sibling?" the yellow Hummer asked, confused about what the girl's kin had anything to do with her current physical condition.

Mikaela, having connected her new friend's current distress to her earlier breakdown after she awoke from her nightmare in the way that only a woman could, thought a single word—a name—and her rarely seen compassionate side flared up.

"Lyra's brother can't see her like this," Mikaela said, trying to come up with a reason for her words. Was Lyra's brother older or younger than her? "Er, it would affect him, uh, negatively. H-he looks up to her, and, seeing her like this, it would traumatize him."

That was lame, the dark haired girl thought, looking to the hazel eyed girl whom was leaning heavily on her and shrugged weakly. Lyra looked like she wanted to say something, but the giant robots interrupted them.

"Very well then," Ratchet said, obviously miffed by having his advice ignored.

Optimus continued his introductions, as there was only one 'bot left to introduce. "You already know your guardian, Bumblebee. "

Said robot started punching the air, mimicking the boxing moves Lyra had seen the local 'bad boys' use on each other on her way to school. 'Bee was so cute, she mused. "Check on the rep—yes, second to none."

"Bumblebee, right?" Sam asked to be sure. "So you're my guardian, huh?" The bipedal Camaro nodded before Ratchet stepped forward, shining a red beam of light at his neck, causing the 'bot to cough in pain.

"His vocal processors were damaged in battle. I'm still working on them," he explained, before setting his optics on the smaller female, having been thinking over all the information the internet could provide him. "As for you, I suppose I have the medical supplies required to tend to your injuries."

Before any of the humans could say anything, the Autobot transformed back to his Alt mode. They didn't know what was supposed to happen now; did they just stare at him or something?

A few seconds later, a blue flash could just barely be seen through the tinted windows, and the door opened. A tall, slender man stepped out, carrying a medical bag. He looked at Lyra and gestured for her to follow him.

Though she knew that it was okay to follow—he was, after all, an Autobot medic—Lyra had her doubts. He was a robot, did he even know about the human anatomy? Did he even know what being a doctor to humans was?

A brief conversation with Noah popped in her head.

"Ratchet'd probably be the best doctor on Earth," Noah said, a slightly fanatic grin pulling at his chubby cheeks. "But he doesn't tend to the hurt humans."

"Why?" Lyra asked, confused. Weren't Autobots supposed to help humans?

"Because his bedside manners are worse than a starving lion's."

The memory didn't quell her worries at all.

"Follow," Ratchet said bluntly, having noticed that the female had remained with her companions.

Nervously, Lyra did as was commanded, but not before looking back at the duo she had escaped alien robots with. For a second, she wondered what it was that they saw, a pathetic looking girl who was practically rags, perhaps.

The back of the Hummer was opened, revealing what Lyra imagined the inside of an ambulance looked like. She was ordered to sit, and she did so, not entirely out of respect, but of partial fear. What would happen if she pissed him off?

Lyra didn't want to know.

"Remove your jacket."

If it had come from any other guy, Lyra would've tried to punch the once-robot-now-human doctor. How did he do that anyway? she thought, not being able to recall anything from her extensive conversations with her little brother. One painful stroll down memory lane was enough, thanks.

The denim jacket peeled off noisily, forcing Lyra to cringe. Imagine the damage her blood had done to Mikaela's clothes. She refused to think into it much.

As Ratchet rummaged through his bag, the brunette listened to Optimus' voice, and was slightly put out to know that she couldn't be there for the recap of Megatron's rise (and accidental fall) of power.

A giggle escaped her lips as Optimus explained that the reason Sam was sucked into all of this was because of eBay. Ratchet, who had been gently pulling out the glass shards from her arms and back, sent her a reproachful look. Didn't she realize that one wrong move could damage her more? Honestly!

"Sorry," Lyra murmured meekly. In truth, she didn't know why she had laughed. Why were things funny to her when she knew that Noah was in danger? The thought made her stomach sick. She imagined what the Decepticons could be doing. A picture of her brother strapped to a lab table, that small and creepy 'Con digging around in his brain, trying to unearth everything he knew about them, flashed In her head. She paled.

"Your face seems to have changed color; are you unwell?" Ratchet asked, not entirely familiar with the concept of being 'lost in space'.

"I'm fine," Lyra said, adding a 'Noah's not' in her head.

"Very well." And the robot returned to his work. Surprisingly, he had moved on to the gash in her side while she was zoned out. Only a small layer of fabric remained before he could begin mending it.

Lyra watched as he examined it. His optics roamed over it repeatedly, most likely scanning it for any infections or stray debris that had somehow lodged itself in it. He seemed satisfied, for he turned back to his bag and pulled out a curved needle and string. Wait, she needed stitches?

To calm her mind (Lyra had never liked needles), she told herself that she hadn't felt any pain while he had pulled glass out of her skin; she probably wouldn't feel a thing. How wrong she was.

"Ow!" she yelped, trying to move away, but an arm stopped her. Her hazel eyes landed on the electric blue that were Ratchet's optics, and she stopped moving. Those eyes…they looked just like…no, they couldn't…could they?

"If you thought that hurt, then you should keep moving; I'm sure having a needle rip through your epidermis would feel just lovely," the medic all but snarled, glaring at her.

Lyra sagged slightly, giving up on her efforts to escape. How long had she writhed in pain much more intense than this? Longer, she told herself, lots longer.

The needle went through her skin again, sealing the torn external organ shut. It felt gross, the string pulling through her. Nothing she ever wanted to experience again.

When Ratchet cut the string, Lyra was relieved. When he wrapped her side up with gauze, she practically sagged. Everything sharp and pointy was gone now. It was great. Grabbing Mikaela's jacket, the brunette leapt out of the Hummer. While the grimy piece of cloth made her feel dirty, it still protected her against the elements of night, and, for that, she was grateful.

Lyra looked at Ratchet for a moment, wanting to tell him about Noah, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Not yet, anyway.

"What'd I miss?" she asked once she'd walked back to the two teenagers. They glanced at each other before looking at her.

"We need my grandfather's glasses," Sam said, leaving out the entire All-Spark-doom-end-of-human-race thing.

"And where are they?" Lyra asked even though she knew the answer. She was halfway through the movie, she thought. If she was going to get the Autobots' help, she'd need to work up the courage to tell them soon.