The days had no shape. They passed, which was good enough for Mikaela. No attacks, no sudden visions of Roadrunners dismal past. Just Trina hanging over Sam and Sam hanging over everyone else.
Friday was pizza night, Sam declared, and while the two humans were frothing at the mouth of greasy pizza bubbling with melted cheese, Mikaela headed to her room. Her garage, and lay on her back, staring up at the cobweb littered ceiling. Outside, she could hear Ratchet chatting with Sam and Bumblebee warbling away.
She tried to block them out, just as something began to creep into her subconscious, touching it with cold tendrils.
"Oh, you again," Mikaela muttered. "I thought I had you under control."
Roadrunners conscious thought otherwise.
Mikaela rolled over, armor screeching against hard concrete. What Roadrunner wanted wasn't her concern. Shouldn't have been, since her conscious was hanging on by a thread, trying not to be lost into oblivion. Giving in would just give Roadrunner more strength.
Not that she had the energy to come back. Even Ratchet had agreed that she was long gone, her spark rotting away in the Pit. Her mind was just a vestige of her former self, what had been and what wasn't any more.
Yeah. Giving in would just be one more weakness.
Mikaela barely acknowledged Trina's presence. She came, jacket wrapped around her shoulders.
"Is it really that bad out there?" Mikaela asked, optics unmoving. Trina came and sat down beside Mikaela's massive head.
"Nah. I just thought you needed some company and all, with you suddenly being all anti-social or whatever," Trina scooted closer. "C'mon. What's the matter? You can tell me."
"You wouldn't get it."
"True," Trina frowned, shoulders sagging. Then, "but who cares. It's good to let it out every once and a while. Unlike Prime out there. I swear the bot' is like a rock."
"A rock with some cracks in it."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"I don't know…" Mikaela rolled over, ashamed by her own fatigue. Who was Trina to be at the end of her ambiguous demeanor. Then again, Trina wasn't exactly a psychiatrist. She heard what she wanted to hear and rarely gave any guidance.
"Optimus isn't perfect," Mikaela huffed and faced Trina. "Not in my eyes."
"Well…" Trina trailed off. "I was gonna say, 'he's only human,' but I guess that saying wouldn't pertain to this situation in particular."
They both shared a morbid laugh, the sound echoing off the walls.
"Do you miss anything?"
"What?"
"I mean, miss anything about being human."
"Yeah," Mikaela sat up.
"What?"
Mikaela thought. Oh, yeah, she missed many things. Her life. Her freedom of choice. She was practically a soldier now – all Autobots were – and Mikaela assumed that meant she was under Prime's command. What he said ruled. Being a human meant she could walk away from the whole alien ordeal whenever she wanted and live a semi-normal life.
Now she was stuck in the middle of it forever with no hopes of being what she wanted to be, doing what she wanted to do and making a life for herself.
"I haven't thought about it much," Mikaela lied. "I mean, I guess I'm just trying to go with the flow."
"Liar."
"Wow I thought you had bought it," Mikaela laughed. "I miss food."
"Pizza. And popcorn," Trina licked her lips, shifting in her seat and then sitting on her knees. "What about sports? If you tried playing anything you'd end up crushing everything."
"Nice. Oh, and I miss sweat," Mikaela's honeyed laugh filled the room as she acknowledged Trina's baffled look. "What? Don't look at me like that. I was a runner back at home. Sweat just made you concede the fact that you were working hard."
"Yeah. Oh, and don't forget swimming and sleeping in a bed and - "
"Okay, now you're just trying to make me feel guilty."
"What's there to feel guilty about?" Trina pulled her jacket tighter and shot Mikaela a pitying look. "It wasn't your fault."
Mikaela sighed and lay back down, the cobwebs on the ceiling coming into full view again. If Trina was trying to establish some kind of friend-on-friend sob fest, then Mikaela wasn't interested.
She knew what guilt felt like. And it wasn't because she thought Barricade had specifically targeted her, no, the guilt resided with Roadrunner. Always Roadrunner.
Optimus would never speak to her again, probably, in fear or rousing up parts of his past. He loved her, but not her. He loved Roadrunner.
"Something else is bothering you."
"It's nothing."
"It's not good to hold in your feeling like this," Trina reached out and touched Mikaela's cheek. Sensors coming to life, Mikaela could feel every little cell and fiber, feel the steady beat of her pulse as her wrist brushed against one of her audio receptors. So human she was.
"You aren't my psychiatrist," Mikaela snapped.
Trina shut up after that, and the dull silence stretched on.
"Do you think its better?" Trina suddenly asked.
"You sure do love to talk, don't you?" Mikaela said dryly. She glanced at Trina and saw her dejected look, sighing and rolling her optics. One thing she had been a pro at doing as a human, and one thing she was a pro at doing now.
"I was just asking…"
"Curiosity is a good thing," Mikaela replied. "But mechanical isn't better, its just….different."
Trina nodded, eyes flickering down to the floor. Quietly she said, "I hope you don't turn into Sunstreaker. He thinks humans are, like, a disease or something."
"Sunstreaker is just a natural asshole," Mikaela said, scowling. "Like there aren't enough of those around."
Trina snorted, pulling her knees in so she could hug them and then stare at Mikaela with tired eyes.
"Point taken."
"Does it work?"
"If it did, I would tell you."
Ratchet groaned and reached up, jerking Mikaela's head forward far more vigorously than intended. Mikaela could only sit there, grimacing as Ratchet dug his fingers into her audio receptors, toying with the various wires and tubes that linked her hearing to her processors, much like a human.
Maybe the species weren't so different after all, but Mikaela hushed herself, wincing as Ratchet's fingers grazed across a stray wire, and told her roving mind that there was no way in hell that a human would be able to sit thought an agonizing hour of this and not scream.
At least Optimus had provided some sort of comfort, pulling his head out of the network and actually coming to sit next to her. He had spent most of yesterday searching each channel, each internet file, the mission as easy as snapping a finger, for anything relating to Caine Fisher and the Brotherhood. Mostly he had found things regarding Fishers personal life. Where he graduated from college and all that stuff that would prove useless if they were to ever encounter the man himself.
Maybe he had given himself all the impractical work just to make up an excuse to say that he was busy. It wasn't like Caine was any threat to them. Sure, he had gotten lucky with Mikaela, shocking her into submission while he went on and on, spewing arguable crap about this and that, but that didn't mean he had the skill, or intelligence to take out the Autobots and deactivate N.E.S.T for good. His followers were like everyone else, hearing what they wanted to hear even if it wasn't the truth.
"Don't underestimate Fisher," Ratchet had said the other day, and Mikaela had been surprised because this was Ratchet talking. The same mech who looked down on most humans with such contempt. And, lo and behold, here he was giving a jerk of a human some credit. The whole notion made Mikaela's head spin.
"Why?" Mikaela had responded.
"He has more political power than you realize," Ratchet had said. "It took one paranoid liaison to temporarily shut down N.E.S.T. Fisher doesn't just have congress, he has a hoard of willing, angry protestors to do his will."
Fisher would turn his whole ridiculous hate fest into a flesh-and-blood feud, Ratchet had said, humans versus the very beings trying to protect them.
But then again, that was Ratchet's paranoia at its high. Mikaela had talked to Fisher, but hadn't gotten any type of insight on his true intents or personality. Just a big wad of asshole. Asshole that probably didn't have the balls to pull any serious shit.
Which was why Mikaela wasn't as worried as she knew she should be.
"Are you done?" Mikaela said, snapping back to the present when Ratchet flicked a switch in her head. Literally.
"It should work," Ratchet replied.
"Test it," Optimus said, not meeting Mikaela's optic but standing up, wires that almost resembled muscles bulging. It suddenly occurred to Mikaela that, as a human, he would be pretty hot.
"How do I do it?"
"Just…" Ratchet looked to Optimus for guidance, and the big mech shrugged. So much for his guru advice when it came to teaching a newbie Cybertronian how to activate her comm. Mikaela sighed, shifting her feet.
"Let me see," Optimus began, fingers coming up to brush against his own audio receptor.
"Mikaela?"
Mikaela swatted at her ear as if she were trying to shoo away an annoying fly. She saw Ratchet nod feverishly.
"It works."
"Mikaela, can you hear me?"
Mikaela nodded, staring at Optimus, seeing a smile tug at the corners of his lips. "God," she said. "Its like you're right there, whispering in my ear."
"Try sending me a message."
"I don't' know how."
"Just focus," Optimus tapped the side of his head. "It will take a while, but eventually you will get used to it."
Mikaela highly doubted that, but she tried anyway, for her sake, and for Ratchet's sake. She was sure he wouldn't want to go on a scavenger hunt inside her head again.
"Optimus?"
Mikaela just thought the words, her processors seeming to comprehend, interpret, and send them along a linked network so fast that she could barely understand it herself.
"Loud and clear."
Mikaela couldn't help the sudden laugh that welled up in her throat.
"You're welcome," Ratchet mumbled, sighing, turning to the side. "Internal communications will come in handy, soon."
Mikaela barely even noticed Sam approaching. Mikaela looked for his shadow, but Trina was nowhere around.
"Mastered a new skill," Sam patted her leg. "What's next? Learning how to do kickass moves like Sideswipe?"
"How come Sideswipe gets all the credit?" Ratchet called from the shed. "I do plenty of 'kickass' moves!"
Sam snorted, unable to contain his laughter.
"Sideswipe has wheels, Ratchet," Mikaela replied. Then, thinking, she said, "I'm gonna have to ask Ratchet for a pair of those."
"Not until you learn," Optimus said, kneeling down to face Sam. "How are you, Sam."
"Good," Sam gave a languid wave. "Can I borrow Mikaela for a second? You know, if Ratchet isn't done with her."
Optimus nodded, shooting Mikaela a loot before standing to his full height and thudding over to Ratchet.
"Where are we going?" Mikaela asked as they began to walk.
"You'll see," Sam replied.
"Sam…"
"It's a surprise!" Sam said, and he shushed her when she tried to speak again. "Change of topic. What was with the awkwardness between you and the Boss?"
Sam was a master at changing the subject. Mikaela almost stopped walking, but she pushed forward, content to not let her emotions show.
Finally, she said, "It's nothing. You wouldn't understand."