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Mikaela walked and walked and walked until the sun was up, its harsh rays beating down on her armor and making her ten times hotter than she already was. It was like a sauna, a sauna that cooked you from the inside out.
She had lost Megatron after she had leaped off the cliff like some comic book superhero. Her knees and arms still stung from the impact, but it sure was better than a broken neck. If Cybertronians could even break their necks.
She had considered going back. But that would mean running back into Megatron, and, quite frankly, as she sauntered along on shaky legs, she wasn't up for another game of tag. She had barely avoided those talons last time.
But while suffering at the hands of Megatron seemed appalling, trudging across a canyon seemed way worse. There was still rock and dust lodged in her armor from where she had fallen, the dust tickling the most sensitive wires and making her cringe. The rocks were nestled up under her scratched armor, and Mikaela didn't have the energy to sit and fish for each and every one of them.
It was like hell out here, the sun adding to her discomfort. Ratchet had said something about cooling systems, once, when Mikaela hadn't been paying attention.
Like that helped.
Mikaela didn't know why she even remembered that conversation. Maybe it was because they had veered off on another topic, thanks to Trina, who had been in the med bay with Ratchet, running her mouth.
"So, can you, like, eat?" she had asked.
"No," Mikaela had answered.
"But what would happen if you did?" Trina had asked, staring up from her position on Mikaela's knee, eyes wide with curiosity. "Would the food get all, like, moldy or whatever? You would be walking around with your stomach full of rotten food?"
"Enough with the childish assumptions, Trina," Ratchet had barked. "If you want to ask question's about Cybertronian anomaly, you should ask me."
"Yes because I'm sure Trina would love to hear a two hour long talk regarding the mating rituals of your species," Mikaela had said snidely.
"Our species," Ratchet had retaliated, leaving Mikaela sitting there, optics wide in shock.
Trina had just snorted and flipped Ratchet off, and that was when Mikaela had decided she liked Trina whole lot better.
But things had changed after that, and she had found herself learning that Cybertronians actually did drink energon. She had been taught the limits of her strength, too, and so much more.
But never how to transform.
Mikaela stopped dead in her tracks, the sudden motion causing her to almost lose her balance.
She didn't need Ratchet to teach her everything, she realized. She looked around at the jagged cliff edge and the sun that continued to rise higher and higher over the horizon, bathing everything in warmth.
Mikaela stared, shook her head, and then searched the sky. No doubt the con's were still looking for her. Starscream was probably hovering somewhere above the clouds, already having spotted her and waiting for the perfect moment to strike….
Not likely, but not impossible, either. She needed to transform, and transform fast, or risk being captured.
She shuddered when she thought of the way he had looked at her. Those hideous eyes and hideous face eyeing her like she was some tasty prey or whatever.
It made her sick.
Mikaela thought one word. Transform.
If it would have worked, Mikaela would have already been speeding off into the horizon. But this was Mikaela's life, and fate had deemed that none of her plans work, so she was left standing there in a position that made her look utterly and helplessly stupid.
Cue loud curse words.
"This is a load of bull…" she whispered, shaking her helm, reaching back from pluck a rock from up underneath her door wings. And a load of bull it was, having to continue walking out in the sun.
Using her legs! Pah! Humans didn't have the luxury of wheels.
Mikaela felt her energy draining fast as she walked, and soon she found refuge behind some gigantic rocks. Not at all as glamorous as she had hoped, but they protected her from the sun.
She rested her back against them, letting out a loud sigh.
Her life sucked. But there was nothing she could do about it. Being a monster didn't help your self confidence level at all, and Mikaela soon questioned why Ratchet had allowed her to live in the first place.
Order from Optimus, she supposed. But Mikaela was sure he would have chose differently if eh had known all along that she was in the body of his past lover.
Mikaela shuddered her optics and closed her eyes, soaking in the warmth of the sun. Then, joints creaking and groaning, she stood up.
To hell with sitting. She needed to drive.
She willed her body, willed her mind to transform.
No results.
She tried again.
None.
"To hell with….ugh…" Mikaela ran her hand across her metal forehead, door wings twitching irritably.
This time, she closed her optics.
Clear your mind, she told herself. Don't think about anything else. Just think how when you transform, your fast you'll go. How you'll be able to outdrive any human made vehicle there is. How you will finally be able to beat Trent and his posse in a race when you get home. You'll be unstoppable.
She felt herself shrinking, legs folding together, door wings adjusting, optics adjusting so she could see what was out in front of her in far better clarity than ever before. Parts trembled and molded together like dough.
The whole things was absolutely horrifying.
This should hurt, she thought. This should kill me.
But no matter how odd or weird the thing was, how much all her parts rearranged themselves to fit her demands, there wasn't one moment in which the pain surfaced. If there was any pain in the first place.
She just sat there, wheels rocking slightly, all jittery as if she had drunk twelve cups of coffee.
The sensation was incredibly. Going from one form to another was like a rush for her, like the thrill you get when you're on a roller coaster, sailing down and down, so incredibly fast.
But the utter thrill of being able to rev her engine and open the door without even using her hands, not even knowing how she could do everything.
The fact that she didn't know how to transform back didn't hit her until she was off, speeding across dirt.
It was nighttime when she stopped, twisting her wheels to the side, throwing up a cloud of dirt and dust. The sun had retreated below the horizon, and the moon was out in full glow. She had gotten out of the canyon long ago and had driven across a long stretch of road that was old, with plants growing through the cracks.
She had stopped because she was home.
She hadn't seen the place in over two months, but that didn't mean she was about to go running inside and jump on her bed, like any teenage girl would do when they got home. She would end up crushing her bed, and probably the house, if she did that.
Tranquility had changed. Dark storm clouds hung over it, waiting to dump a load of rain on the small town.
She passed Sam's house. Passed the high school.
Went past the power plant where Bumblebee and Barricade had fought almost three years ago.
Finally, she went past her dad's shop and didn't dare stick around to check it out. No one was in there, really. The doors were locked and the light were off.
Her dad probably thought she was still dead. He hadn't called her or even come and seen her even when Optimus had told Mikaela that yes, N.E.S.T would let him in on the secret.
Done with her, Mikaela supposed. Done with everything.
She almost missed the man coming out the back door. He wore a long black leather coat and a black hat. Not the most stealthy wardrobe. If he was trying to look ominous, he had succeeded.
But the thing was, Mikaela didn't know him. She knew everyone who worked with her dad. Bliss, Johnny, David, Frankie and Phil. That man didn't look like any of them, didn't look like the kind of guy anyone would want to be associated with.
Mikaela remembered the other human, the one who had trained a gun on her, just last night. He had said something.
The Brotherhood of Man.
Mikaela revved her engine softly and crept forward, watching the man get in his own black car that added to the whole bizarreness.
Oh, yeah, he was definitely up to something. Something bad.
Mikaela watched as he started his car and pulled out into the street, having not even noticed Mikaela, who had been parked on the curb the entire time. She had no internal communication, like the others did. Not yet. Calling the Autobots had gone out of the question a day ago, so trying to warn them, warn anyone, really, was out of the question.
If Optimus found out she was doing this, she knew she would get a lecture. But the thing was, she didn't care what he wanted. The thought had been in the corner of her processors ever since becoming an alien.
It bothered her. Bothered her a lot.
Mikaela followed the man anyway.