Livewire: Chapter 7
The only reason Livewire kept up with Jazz as they raced after the rogue vehicle was because of the tight quarters of the hallways and a constant need to swerve around mechs and tight corners. They were approaching another bend in the corridor when a high pitch scream of terror erupted and the construction orange go kart spun in a wild circle to avoid colliding with the upcoming wall. Livewire took the momentary halt to leap over Jazz, her battle computer worked overtime, informing her precisely where to connect her paws to push off the side of the wall and land in front of the cart straightened and shot down the new corridor. She brought her front foot down hard on the hood of the vehicle, smashing its front bumper into the ground and flinging its rear into the air. The front wheels screeched as they spun against the metal floor, Livewire could smell burning rubber as she struggled to keep it from moving. It was slowly sliding from her grasp when Jazz transformed, performing a three hundred and sixty degree turn on one hand to avoid a collision.
"Hold on!" Jazz threw a circular device like a Frisbee that magnetically attached itself to the go kart and sent out a pulse that abruptly stopped all of its motor functions. The wheels locked and Livewire let the front end go, allowing the back portion to crash back down to the floor.
A human shakily unstrapped himself from the roll cage and more so fell than climbed out of the buggy. "I thought I was going to die," he breathed heavily, doubled over and clutching the ground.
"You ok there, Daniel?" Jazz bent inquired.
Daniel swallowed. "Yeah, but I don't know about Wheelie." He pointed at the orange go kart to accentuate his point, it made a loud popping sound and smoke began to billow from under its hood.
Livewire could have sworn it sunk on its wheels in the same instant and it suddenly dawned on her, "That's a transformer?"
She was ignored when a stocky yellow and green Autobot jogged up to them. "Primus, what was that all about?" He was looking at Jazz, but Daniel was the one to speak up.
"Wheelie wanted to show me a new upgrade to his rotors and lost his breaks in a mid-air jump."
"Why is it always you two idiots," the Autobot grumble.
Daniel shrugged, resigned to his fate. "Why are you always such a stick in the mud, Brawn?"
Brawn crossed his thick arms sourly. "Says the human who follows everything that rhyming runt tells him to do."
Daniel shook his fist. "Don't make fun of Wheelie."
"Brawn, why don't you take Wheelie to Ratchet? I've radioed ahead to let him know what happened and that he has a patient on the way. While you do that I'll take Daniel to the rec room." Jazz hastily offered.
Brawn uncurled his arms. "Fine, but make sure his creator hears about this." Brawn gently picked up Wheelie in vehicle mode and stomped off down the hall.
Daniel sighed heavily. "Phew, why is that guy always on my case? He's worse than Arcee."
"Because, little man, you're always in need of someone to be on your case." Jazz chuckled. "By the way, that was some quick thinking on your part, nice moves."
He gave Livewire a thumbs up and she felt heat rise in her chest. "Thank you," she said humbly.
"I've never seen you before." Daniel looked up and canted his head at her. "Did Fujiyama build you or are you one of Wheeljack's experiments?"
Livewire wasn't sure she wanted to answer and took too long thinking over an appropriate reply when Jazz filled the anticipating silence.
"Wheeljack and Perceptor built her. She's a special case like the Dinobots, so don't be shy to say hello." Jazz offered a hand to Daniel and he willingly climbed on.
"Oh, okay I guess. Hi there wolf lady." He waved from Jazz's palm and Livewire internally cringed at the nickname.
"Hi," she simply returned.
She followed Jazz to the rec room while Daniel boasted about his wild ride with Wheelie; their short walk couldn't end fast enough and she was relieved when they entered the rec room. Jazz put Daniel down on a table were three Autobots were seated around Sparkplug and another human male who were playing cards.
"Hey, Daniel, Jazz. Care to join us?" Sparkplug asked upon noticing them.
Jazz politely declined, "No thanks, I'm just here to make a delivery and rely a message."
All eyes and optics fell on Daniel.
"What did you do this time?" Daniel shrank away from Arcee's blazing optics.
"Nothing! Why do you always assume I've done something?"
"Because you typically have done something." A red mech chuckled next to Arcee.
"This isn't a laughing matter, Cliffjumper." Arcee reprimanded and the mech held up his hands disarmingly with a lopsided smile.
"Spike, say something. He's your son," she added.
Spike stood up from the abandoned card game and rubbed the back of his head. "I think he's old enough to know what he's doing. You can't baby him forever, Arcee."
Arcee stood and with her hands braced on the table. "You would both be considered mere sparklings if you were cybertronian."
Daniel turned on her, long contained anger brimming his reddened face. "That's the problem. I'm not cybertronian, my life is already half over. Dad's right, you need to stop babying me and let me live my life."
Arcee looked like she had been struck as Daniel ran to the edge of the table and used the Bumblebee's leg to jump to the ground and flee from the room.
"Should we just let him go like that?" Bumblebee asked with concern glowing in his optics.
Arcee was silently gazing at the table and Cliffjumper rested a hand on her back, a small frown on his face plates.
"He didn't mean what said, he's just frustrated." Cliffjumper reassured her.
"Oh man," Spike turned around and froze at the stern look Sparkplug was giving him. "What?"
"Just because he's an adult doesn't mean you can let him get away with being stupid or inconsiderate." Sparkplug pointed at the door. "Go and have a long talk with him before I have to get Carly involved."
Spike stiffened at the mention of his wife. "Don't! I'll talk to him, just don't tell her about this."
Bumblebee helped Spike to the ground and the human rushed out of the room in hopes of finding his son before he did anything else he might regret.
"Kids," Sparkplug sighed.
"Yours or his?" Arcee grouched.
"Both," Sparkplug said easily and bent down to collect the scattered playing cards. "They might not say it," he stood back up, "but they know they still need their parents, no matter how old they get."
Livewire looked at the doorway, thoughts of her parents coming to mind. She never had a bad relationship with them, but always had trouble telling them how she felt. She could somewhat sympathize with Daniel wanting to be left to his own devices and angry that no one understood.
"Something wrong?" Jazz asked, snapping her out of a somber reminiscence.
"Just tired," she said truthfully.
"Jazz, sure you don't want to play a game?"
Jazz turned to Sparkplug. "Nah, I've got to get going. Catch ya later." He waved goodbye and stooped down close to Livewire to whisper, "Don't get into trouble while I'm gone and I'll see about those tapes."
She bristled at the smirk in his tone and turned her head away from Jazz as he slipped out of the room. The nerve!
"I'll try a few games. Lay 'em on me." Cliffjumper motioned to Sparkplug who grinned at the mech in turn.
Cliffjumper elbowed Arcee. "Play with me."
She glared and Cliffjumper's optics softened and his posture slouched downward. "Please?"
She vented. "Fine, give me those."
Livewire peered over the table curiously. "Can I watch?"
She didn't know how to play cards, but the thought of robots trying to play a human card game intrigued her.
"I don't see why not." Cliffjumper shrugged his massive shoulders and Livewire made herself comfortable on the floor nearby.
Livewire hadn't realized she had fallen into a full recharge until her systems were rebooting. Her optics onlined to a red arm wavering close to her face and the feeling of something sticking out of her neck. She looked up and saw Perceptor kneeling on the floor next to her, his scanner in hand.
"Finally online, I see." He gave her a quick smile and disconnected his hand held from her neck.
She looked around the room to find she was still in the rec room, void any Autobots. It made her wonder how long she had been out.
"I didn't mean to fall asleep in here," she said sheepishly. How embarrassing, she couldn't believe she had passed out despite all the noise Bumblebee and Cliffjumper were making. The two of them were really going at it the last she could remember. The competitive streak in them was fiercer than Marissa when she played monopoly at the company Christmas parties.
"Your energy levels are abysmally low. You most likely fell into recharge to conserve fuel." He reached down on his other side and presented her with an energon cube. "I don't know what compelled you to let it get so low. Drink this and you should be fine."
She stared at the container that had been placed in front of her.
"What's wrong? I promise there's nothing in it. It's a hundred percent low grade energon."
"Can I really drink that?" It smelled different from energon sticks. Instead of acrid-sweet it smelled pure acrid with a hint of gasoline. Nothing about it was appetizing - not that the energon sticks were, but at least they were small and she could swallow them whole.
"Of course. Wheeljack has given you one before, hasn't he?" A small frown crossed his face when she didn't immediately answer.
"He gave me energon sticks, or treats."
"That's it?"
She nodded.
Perceptor clenched his hands into fists. "Blasphemy. The next time I see that mech I'm going to have a word with him. The Dinobots might refuse to eat anything but those dreadfully low energy sources, but that's no excuse to deprive you of a proper refueling. No wonder you're needing to recharge so often."
He pushed the cube a little closer. "Drink it slowly. If you've never had it before it may take a moment for your fuel tank to adjust."
She looked dubiously between him and the cube. "How am I supposed to drink it? I don't have hands to hold it up and I don't have a tongue to lap it up like a dog."
Perceptor looked shocked. "You need to transform first."
Livewire swore something inside her glitched for a fraction of a second. "I can…transform?"
"Of course," Perceptor said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
When was anyone going to tell her this? She had been walking around on four legs for over a week and thought she would never have the use of hands again.
"Why didn't you tell me that before?" She whined incredulously.
"I thought you knew."
Her pitched waivered an octave higher as she tried her hardest not to burst out in anger. "No, how was I supposed to know?"
"The transformation sequence was imbedded into your core programing."
She growled, but felt too tired to fight it. That short nap hadn't been enough to make her feel better and there was a sluggish ache about her frame. "Just tell me how to change," she cycled in defeat.
Perceptor gave her an encouraging smile. "It's not something that can be taught. You have to figure out how best to do it yourself."
"I thought you said it was programed into this body so I should be able to just flip a switch and make it happen, right?"
He shook his helm. "Afraid not. It's, how you humans best put it, ambiguous instinct."
"I don't have a transformer instinct."
"Transforming instinct," Perceptor corrected.
"I don't have transformer instincts either…Can robots have instincts?"
Perceptor held up a finger. "We are not robots. Our sparks set us apart from machines, and yes, according to some researchers we do have a base instinct that includes the want for preservation and the ability to transform that is somehow apart of our coding, yet independent of it."
Livewire shifted uncomfortably. "I don't have a spark," meaning she couldn't possibly have this transforming instinct.
He didn't miss a beat. "No, but you're a special case that goes beyond our ability to understand and falls under the territory of spark theology. It's clear you're sentient, somehow."
A nervous chuckle escaped her. "Then what am I? A ghost? They have souls, I think. If they exist." At this point what came out of her mouth was the equivalent of word vomit. She had been avoiding thinking about how she was still alive and didn't have any clear theories. It had been itching at the back of her subconscious and she had been pushing back, blocking the thoughts behind a barrier.
"As implausible as it sounds, maybe. There's no other explanation I can come up with at present other than you accidentally recorded data before being activated and it corrupted your memory core. That's nearly impossible as well since your memory circuits would have needed to be active."
She turned defensive. "They aren't fake memories. Ask me anything. I'll even tell you about the stray dog I used to throw hotdogs to on the way to school every day, or the quarters I would take from the family vacation jar. Not even my mom knows about those."
Perceptor held up a hand. "I'm not trying to make a liar out of you. I already stated I believe your claim. The next step is figuring out how, and even then we may never come a clear conclusion. I've been discussing possibilities with Wheeljack when possible, but we've only begun to scratch the surface."
Livewire sat up on her haunches and stared listlessly at the glowing energon. "Fine, can we just focus on figuring out how to make me transform? I miss having hands."
Perceptor stood back to give her room. "Very well. Why don't you try imagining your transformation? You're in this form now, but in an instant you could change, like this." He transformed into a giant microscope and his armored plating had barely finished sliding into place when he exploded back into robot form. The change looked immensely complicated, and honestly, a little painful. She couldn't imagine her body twisting like that.
"Heh, right," she mumbled. Livewire stood and offlined her optics, she tried to imagine herself as a robot on two legs and all she could see was black silhouette and feel a whole lot of nothing. "uh-change! Transform? Twist…" She onlined her optics, feeling more like an idiot than before. "Nothing's happening."
Perceptor gave her an encouraging smile. "Don't-"
"Are you ready for some football?!"
A small blue and white blur blindsided Livewire and crawled onto her back, kicking at her to go like a rider on a horse. She screeched and catapulted forwards, nearly tripping over her own feet. A surge of an equivalent to adrenaline switched on with her battle computer and her body suddenly exploded, shifting and changing until she was grasping at the floor in surprise.
"What the hell was that for?! I should kill you for that." She glared at the miniature mech smaller than any transformer she had ever seen. He was spinning a football on his finger and grinningly impishly up at her while Perceptor lowered his hands that he had attempted to shield his face with.
"Even after I helped you transform?" The mech asked smugly.
Her optics jerked downward and instead of the paws was expecting, hands with thin metal digits flexed and she brought one up to her face and inspected the strangely complex mechanisms of her fingers. Encircling her wrists was a bracelet like configurations that looked like the remains of her claws. Picking at them, concluded she was right - somehow her paws had broken apart and retracted in a circular pattern. Looking downwards, she had a chest that was reminiscent of a sports bra with a yellow glass dome fitting snuggly between the split breast plates and her body tapered appropriately in a feminine physique, ending in thick calves and boot-like pedes.
"Not bad." The small Autobot said, a hand resting under his chin as his visored optics critically appraised her. "It looks like they gave you the same mold as Arcee with a few personal touches. That optic shape is unusual, I guess to mirror your beast mode, and the crown of your helm has a swept back style to it."
She felt the sides of her helm and gripped the pointed protrusions there that covered her audials then felt the top where another spike was swept backwards close to the base of her skull. One sat in the middle of her forehead and extended upwards just past the top of her head.
"I look weird," she whined.
She had the impression the blue and white was rolling his hidden optics. "You haven't even seen what you look like."
"I feel weird," she corrected.
"Well, you have been walking around in your alt mode the whole time. Of course it's going to take some time to get used to your real form."
Alarm bells went off in her head. "Who are you?" Suspicion dripped from her voice.
"The master of sports! Eject, of course. Blaster told me to keep an eye on you, so here I am." He spread his legs and flexed his arms in an uncharming pose.
Livewire slowly stood, pushing out of her crouch with her hands, feeling a little wobbly on her new legs. The ground was looking dauntingly far away. She stood straight with her arms slightly apart in case she fell over, and pinned Eject with a reproachful glare. "Watch me? Why?"
Eject clasped his hands behind his head and kicked at the ground. "Red Alert was blowing a gasket saying he couldn't pick you up on cameras or sensors so Blaster promised I would track your movements to shut him up. I'm just glad to be out of there. The control room is boring and Red Alert won't let me watch baseball on the monitors."
She liked the sound of being untraceable, it meant she wouldn't have to worry about the neurotic bot spying on her. She sometimes imagined him at his desk watching her every move and muttering to himself about how he was going to wirelessly lock her in an incinerator room if she 'accidentally' wondered into it.
"Odd." Perceptor observed her with a thoughtful hand cupping his chin. "Your sensor cloaking functions should only be operational when the battle computer is running. Why do you see the need to have it activated so frequently?"
Livewire gave him an exasperated look. "I don't. I've only used it a couple times."
"Red Alert is correct, you aren't showing up on any of my sensors besides what is directly reflecting into my optics, and even then I wouldn't be able to record your presence, even visually. Maybe-"
Perceptor fell into a rambling contemplation and Livewire looked down at her pedes. She took a step forwards, or tried to. Learning to walk on four feet that provided extra stabilization was one thing, learning to walk on two feet while being significantly higher up with an entirely different center of gravity was another. She stumbled like a drunken idiot and would have fallen over if Perceptor hadn't taken her outstretched hand she had been swinging wildly about in an attempt to right herself.
"Take it slow, one step at a time. Remember, think of where you want to put your foot before moving it," Perceptor reminded.
This body didn't have the neural memories her human one did and this one felt immensely heavier and off balanced. With one stubborn foot step after the next while using Perceptor as balance, she was able to make it across the room after an agonizing fifteen minutes of listening to Eject monologue her progress.
"Strike one!"He blurted whenever she stumbled.
If she almost planted on her face he would whistle, "And there she goes to the outfield! Oh, that was a close one!"
By the tame she made it to the wall across the room she wanted to smash her heel into the cassettes face plate.
"This is stupid. I should be able to walk." She kicked the wall with the toe of her fused foot, an action a small part of her avidly complained about as highly irrational, before turning around. The only reason she was doing better than a newborn scooting about the floor gurgling like an idiot was because her robotic body had enough strength to hold her up. The problem was figuring out how to move correctly.
"Over time your electro neural pathways will recognize where they need to go similar to how you became better at maneuvering in your alternate form." Perceptor helped walk her to a nearby table and gently pushed into a chair.
"Configuring your motor functions can wait a moment. You need to refuel before you fall into a stasis lock, and the energy will help you concentrate." He picked the cube up off the floor and set it down in front of her.
Livewire scrunched her nose at liquid sloshing about its container, a rainbow tint wavering in ribbons across the surface of the pink vat. She really didn't want to drink it, the human side of her was screaming it would kill her while another side chastised the irrational fear. It was then she became aware of her new tongue-like glossia as it clicked against the roof of her mouth.
"Would I be going crazy if I told you I've been hearing a second voice in my head? It's still my voice, but it keeps correcting me like it's a part of my sub-conscience, but not." Her question came out slow and she was afraid to look up and see their reactions. If they didn't think she was insane from claiming to be a resurrected human, hearing voices might finally discredit her, but she couldn't keep quiet about it anymore.
"Does this second voice keep suggesting alternatives to a previous thoughts related to concepts and actions?" Perceptor inquired.
She nodded and fingered the energon cube cupped in her hands, watching the rainbow colors come and go along.
"Then you aren't experiencing crazy of any sort."
She looked curiously up at Perceptor, wondering how hearing voices couldn't label her as insane.
He pointed his 'lecture finger', as she was beginning to call it, into the air and explained, "That is simply your logic processor performing its job. It is designed to rapidly come up with solutions and aid in memory circuit connectivity so you can better and more quickly react appropriately to a situation based on your experiences and internal data feeds."
"You thought it was a voice in your head?" Eject snickered, deserving a glare from Livewire.
The notion she wasn't going out of her mind was comforting, but it didn't mean she liked it. "Can you turn it off?"
Both mechs looked at her like she'd sprouted horns and giant wings.
Bemused, Perceptor asked, "Why on cybertron would you want to shut off one of your primary functions?"
"I already have a conscience and mind of my own, I don't need a second one trying to tell me what to do. It gets downright aggravating sometimes. It's like I have a nagging ghost made from a combination of all my old professors sitting in my brain correcting every other thought."
They looked even more confused at her explanation.
Eject addressed Perceptor nervously, "Maybe you didn't wire something right, or her cerebral circuits are damaged."
"That's impossible," Perceptor stated defensively. "I'm afraid it's not that simple to turn off a logic processor. It has to be surgically removed and that is only performed in the most extreme cases of damage to the unit. The processor is an integral part of decision making on and off the battlefield."
"Why do I need it to make decisions when I can clearly think for myself?" She repeated.
"Before the war you might have been able to get along without one, but now it can be the difference between life and death because of the decreased time in critical decision making capabilities it provides. If you offlined, and it could have kept you alive if you were ever attacked by Decepticons, I would never be able to forgive myself if I removed the processor. Please, try to reason how it can be of help," Perceptor trailed off pleadingly. His optics had dimmed and his face plates showcased a long expression of overshadowing hurt as if he were remembering something spark wrenching.
Eject was uncannily silent, his visored helm looking away from the open display of emotion that stabbed into Livewire like a stake to her chest. "Okay, I'll try to get used to it," she promised. How could she say no?
A small smile of relief flitted across Perceptor's face. "Thank you," he intoned sincerely.
Livewire picked up the almost forgotten cube of energon in both hands and frowned at the contents. She had a sinking feeling she would regret this. Bottoms up. She took a large gulp and tried to swallow it before the taste could hit, but wound up nearly dropping the container and coughing instead when it flooded her throat.
"Not so fast," Perceptor softly reprimanded. "Take it slow."
She half hoped this body didn't have taste buds, but the energon tasted about as bad as she expected – caustic and somewhat equivalent to the smell of gasoline.
A final cough rattled her chest. "It's disgusting," she wheezed.
Eject made a chortling sound and slapped his thigh.
"I'm being serious." Energon splashed the table when she set the cube down with more force than necessary.
"You need to consume it. I won't have you living off energon treats like the Dinobots." Perceptor pinned her with a stern, I mean business, look.
She didn't like those glow sticks either, but they were more tolerable than this radioactive vat. The look Perceptor was giving her didn't waiver so she took a small sip and cringed at the full force of the acidity. Slowly, agonizingly, she drained the container until it was empty and Livewire was sure she was going to be sick. Her arms encircled the cube and she hovered just over it, resisting the urge to put her head down as the energon sloshed nauseatingly in her tank.
"That wasn't so bad, a proper refueling was what you needed."
Livewire glared at Perceptor sideways.
"I think it's time to give her the red card." Eject cackled and climbed up onto the table and bent on his knees to look up at her face.
She was five seconds from smashing him into the table with her fist when a loud explosion shook the base. Eject grabbed her arm, and Perceptor stumbled, stabilizing himself with a chair while Livewire held onto the vibrating table for dear life.
Her head shot up once the quake ended and the ominous ring in the air abated to silence. "Are we under attack?"
Perceptor straightened and Eject rolled into sitting position in the surprisingly intact room – a few fallen over chairs the only apparent casualties.
Perceptor helped Eject to his feet and picked up the energon cube that had rolled onto the floor. "Most likely not. There's a 98.5% probability that explosion was a subsequent of Wheeljack." His optics dimmed for a click before he refocused. "Yes, that's exactly what it was. Livewire, stay here. Ratchet will most likely need my help cleaning up the collateral damages."
The minute he was out the door Eject cracked into hysterics and punched the air. "That was the best one in a while - I give it a ten!"
Despite everyone's warnings and aversion to Wheeljack's apparent ability to make things explode, she honestly thought they were grossly blowing things out of proportion. However, if the explosion was as bad as it felt and sounded, maybe he really did live up to such legendary standards.
Livewire used the table to help her stand and Eject ceased his giggling fit.
"Where are you going?"
Admittedly, she was simultaneously a little worried about Wheeljack and curious about what happened at center of the destruction, but felt her presence would only be in the way. Besides, she was itching to get outside and have some time to herself, it might help clear her slowly throbbing head.
"Out," she tersely replied.
Eject stretched his arms high into the air and made a motion of cracking his neck. "I guess sticking around here would be boring. Why don't we go check out the damage? Hey, wait for me!"
Wobbly, Livewire was already at the door when Eject called her out. In a burst of panic she transformed as if it were second nature, folding down to all fours, and took off before the cassette could follow.
In no time the sun softly gleamed off her matte purple armor and dirt caved under her strides as the Ark fell away in the distance. Only when she could no longer see the ship's thrusters protruding from the mountain did she slow to a walk among the scattered trees. Her vents were working overtime, trying to cool her body at an alarming rate. She was beginning to wish she had tried to bolt for the surveillance room to dive under the pile of blankets and get some rest, but the thought of Red Alert likely being stationed just outside the closet made her hesitate. The last thing she wanted was that neurotic mech screaming in her sensitive audials.
Rocks tumbled down a slope in the traitorous mountain range, disturbed by her dragging paws and waking her up to her surroundings. Almost as if on auto pilot, despite only coming here once, Livewire was surprised to see the Dinobot den just below her. She hovered there, torn between turning around to keep to herself, and visiting the cave full of fire breathing dinosaurs. The logic programs were all but begging her to turn around while the human side of her was feeling slightly suicidal. Mentally, she told the logic computer to shut up and half jumped, half slid down the slippery scree slope.
The mouth of the cave was ominously large, dark, and silent.
"Hello?" The greeting echoed over the granite and loose quartz within the confines of the Dinobot's dwelling, no reply bounced back.
Livewire stuck her head further in and was wondering just how deep it went when something large rustled just inside. A loud snort and the scrapping of claws over leaves sent a wave of wrongness rippling over her armor and triggered her battle computer - and not a moment too soon. A black mass roared, charging out of the cave right for her with yellowed fangs barred.
"B-bear?!" She screeched, jumping out of the way and barely avoiding being tackled.
The black bear reared onto its hind legs, standing to its full height, and bellowed at Livewire who was comically taller than the five hundred pound bear - even in wolf form. The animal swiped at her with its powerful claws and the prongs in her back, concealed just behind her shoulders, sprung over her head like bull horns. She fainted to the left, and without thinking, followed the split second command her processor gave her to attack. The bear roared at the electric shock it received and the shallow puncture wound one of the prongs had made in its thick shoulder muscle. There hadn't been enough time to charge up any significant voltage, but it was enough to send the creature bolting off into the woods, crying like it was being painfully murdered.
The prongs retracted, pulling back and pointing upwards before sliding into her back, and her battle computer slowly powered off. Her fuel pump was still racing as it sunk in that she had just been attacked by a bear, and it had been scared of her; she felt almost sorry for it. A mild wave of nausea hit and her posture sank a fraction just before a throaty laugh caught her by surprise.
"Maybe tiny Livewire not so weak, you defend home already like a Dinobot."
Grimlock followed by Slag emerged from tall pines.
"You think so?" She wondered sheepishly.
Grimlock puffed his chest out. "Me know because me say so."
Slag shook his head and growled, "Slag not so sure." Grimlock gave him a warning look.
"Still willing to give chance, though" he hastily added and returned Grimlock's glare.
Livewire was beginning to see the logic in befriending Grimlock before the other Dinobots and silently thanked Wheeljack for his advice.
"You might be strong already, but Grimlock will make you stronger. Come break stuff with us."
A sheepish grin warped by her muzzle appeared. "Is it okay if I take a rain check? I'm not feeling very good and came out here to get away from the Autobots. They were giving me a headache."
"What rain check?" Grimlock sincerely questioned.
Wheeljack was also apparently not kidding when he said to speak to them in the simplest terms possible. "It means saving an offer for another day."
Grimlock crossed his spindly arms thoughtfully. "If you angry at Autobots then smashing things would make headache go away, but you no want to?"
A slow shake of her head made him tilt sideways in confusion and to get a look at her from a different angle. "I'm not feeling good physically. It's that sick feeling that makes you feel achy and heavy to the point of wanting to lay down and get some rest so you can feel better," she told him in the simplest terms possible
"How Livewire sick? Grimlock never get sick."
"I don't know," she confessed. "Can I stay here until I feel better?"
"Grimlock no see why not."
She transformed and waited a moment to gauge their reactions to her humanoid form. When neither Grimlock nor Slag seemed phased or in danger of getting angry and stamp her into the ground, Livewire opened her subspace and retrieved two energon sticks.
Both Dinobots approached her like dogs spotting a juicy steak and waited on her expectantly. "Thanks," she told them and placed the sticks into each of their opened mouths and patted Grimlock's giant snout. "You know, you guys are kind of cute."
Grimlock growled under her touch. "Grimlock not cute, Grimlock strong."
Livewire couldn't help but smirk. "You can be cute and strong, it's nothing to be ashamed of. It's a complement."
"Well, okay, but only because it a complement coming from you," Grimlock relinquished. "Grimlock cute and strong."
She resisted snorting at serious declaration and patted his nose one last time.
"Goodnight, Grimlock, Slag."
Livewire retreated into the cave, going only far enough to where her optics could adjust to the darkness and reveal a small enclave that went deep enough to hold several Dinobots, but didn't go further than she could see into the mountain.
There were piles of leaves strewn about like beds so she walked wobbly over to the closest one and more so fell ungracefully than laid down in on it. Despite her throbbing head, her systems hummed appreciatively at the rest she was giving her body and she slowly powered down.