Making Contact At Last
"Thank Primus . . ." My hands eagerly reached for the radio, as I climbed into my truck further, getting settled in the front seat behind the steering wheel. I paused for a moment when I realized how strange this seemed- to be placed behind something that had become so familiar from a different view, and now I was seeing it in a whole different light. I puzzled over this for only a second, and instead began to do my best to figure out how to work the radio in front of me.
Before, it had been so simple; nothing more but a single command, nothing more than a simple afterthought, that before had gotten the radio working that served as the host for our com link. I knew it was enhanced to reach much further than any normal CB radio, and that the humans were able to access it as easily as I could. Yet now, I had to actually work it, without a simple thought. At first, I was unsure, my mind refusing to recall how it was done, instead remaining stubbornly clouded as the dull pain in my head rose and persisted. I paused for a moment, closing my optics and holding the spot again, trying to clear my head of any thoughts that dared encourage such ache. When it subsided again I opened my eyes, and recalled how to work it. I grabbed the receiver, and flipped the radio on with a simple gesture of my thumb, hearing the static that immediately caused a wave of static to spill out. I pressed the button on the receiver and spoke into it, making my message as clear as I possibly could.
"This is Optimus Prime. If there is anyone out there that can hear this message, please respond."
I waited, my hand gripping the steering wheel as I steadied myself, my optics watching the radio, as if expecting that I would be able to see the voice as well as I would hear it. My need to hear another Autobot's voice, to know that they were alright, or at least capable of getting into contact with me. My brow furrowed deeper with every minute that passed by, where there was no answer, becoming more and more agitated as the minutes turned into an entire hour. I planned on staying there, for the entirety it would take until someone contacted me back. I knew that wherever I was, I should have been able to reach my Autobots, and I was confused as to why I was not heard. Again, I was so reveled in my thoughts I did not hear Dr. Shawn Callaway's approach until his voice entered the air. "Optimus?" I looked up, out of the truck to find him standing by the open door, looking up at me.
" . . . Yes?"
"I came in to check on you. You've been in here for a while." He looked to the receiver that was still clenched in my hand. "Are . . . you calling someone?"
"Yes. I am trying to get into contact with anyone who can hear me."
"Friends of yours?"
"Family."
"Ahh." He paused for a moment, his eyes tracing over my face, as if he was looking for something. "I know how important this is for you, but you'll need a lot of rest. Come on, switch it off, and come back inside. Stress isn't good."
"I would like to stay in the truck." I insisted, though I faced him now, trying to get my feelings across.
"I can see that, Optimus. But without rest, you're not going to get better."
I looked down now, thinking about what he had just told me. He was a doctor, a medical specialist among humans. And however much I wanted to stay in the truck, to wait for the call, he had to be right. I looked back to the radio, at the finger that was still poised on the on/off switch, and after a moment's more hesitation, I pressed the switch, and turned it off. Then I turned back toward Shawn, and slid out of the truck, using the rail on the side to better allow myself to land on my feet. I closed the door, and began to walk toward the doctor. Yet as I walked, the pain returned, enough so to where I felt my body react. If not for Shawn's hovering, and quick support, I would have fallen. "Careful. Now, see, what'd I tell you?" he said sharply, his tones disappointed. "Are you going to listen to me now?"
"I will do the best I can." I said, as we moved back into the house. Hannah, the girl, looked at us as we walked in, and she smiled, yet I could not find it in myself to smile back. Shawn led me up to the room I had awakened in, and had me remove the shoes, the jacket, and the shirt before having me climb back onto the bed and lay back. "Now, you'll stay in this bed for a few days, and then you can go back to the radio. You've got to give yourself some time to heal. You're not Wolverine, you know."
" . . . Wolverine?" I repeated, confused.
"You know . . . Marvel . . . furry, short dude . . . ?"
I stared at him blankly.
"Um . . . never mind." He said, before stepping backwards and letting me alone.
As he suggested, I remained in the bed for the required two days. He administered me pain medicine, however (though I refrained from telling him) it did not work. Yet over the two days, the pain resided, becoming less and less severe. When the third day passed, and the fourth morning came, Shaw checked over me. His mouth slanted to the side, his brow furrowing, yet with a sigh, he said, "Alright. You can get out of bed now, I guess. Though you're not off the hook yet." he frowned, as I leaned up.
"I must get back to the radio." I said, and I started to get up, yet his hand shot out, stopping me, and his mouth slanted. "You've got to take it easy . . ."
"I've got to get in touch." I insisted, and he sighed, and then slowly released me. "Only because I know how much family means to someone." He said, before he began to walk away. I walked through the house on my own, using memory to find my way back to their garage. This body felt a lot better as I moved, the stretch to the muscles from being in the bed for most of the past few days seeming to become rejuvenated. When I got to the truck, I opened the door again, climbing inside and getting settled before I looked to the radio again. I was worried that I had missed the call that would signify that the other Autobots were out there, and at least alive. Yet, if they had called, the same as I had, then perhaps, they would be waiting. I switched on the radio again and pressed down the button for the receiver, cutting off the static for a moment so I could send out my message.
"This is Optimus Prime. If there is anyone out there that can hear this message, please respond."
I let go of the button, and the static returned, and I began my wait. Static persisted, and after a few minutes, I tried again.
"This is Optimus Prime. If there is anyone that is receiving this message, please respond."
My optics watched again, my audits listened, waiting . . . waiting . . . and again, the static persisted. And, again, I waited, yet this time, I was not going to move, unless I absolutely had to.
"Optimus?"
I looked up, my attention on the radio drawn away by the woman's voice. I looked at Hannah, as she held a tray of circular food, still steaming from being in the oven. "Good morning." I greeted her, trying my best to not show the disappointment that was running through my mind. Yet another day had passed, and there had been no call, no answers to my messages. I was not discouraged, not yet; I would not rest until I was sure that no one would answer.
"Hi. I made you some cookies. I didn't know what you liked, so I kind of baked a little of . . . well . . . all of them."
I looked from her face to the tray, my mouth slanting for a moment, only to be replaced by a small smile. I was hoping that perhaps it would help me get out of this sudden situation quicker. "I do not think I can take yet another meal from you today, Hannah. I have eaten quite enough . . . food."
"Oh. Right. Sorry, I wasn't thinking maybe I'd be feeding you a little too much." Her optics were focused on me, her lips parted, that strange flush appearing on her cheeks. I paused, knowing that was one of the signs of embarrassment. "Was what I said upsetting?" I asked. I leaned forward as she spoke, because her voice had become very withdrawn, to the point where my audits could almost not hear.
"N-no, you've just . . . never . . . smiled before." Her eyes began to close, and she leaned forward as well, her lips pursing in the strangest way. "You should smile . . . more often . . ."
Quickly, I grabbed her shoulders and set her backward, making her fumble and almost drop the food she had referred to as cookies. "I do not belong here." I said abruptly, before releasing her. She stared at me for a moment, as I molded my features to one that I used when I was giving one of my strictest orders. After a moment, she nodded once. "Y-yeah . . . o-okay." Hannah said shakily. For a moment, I felt like had perhaps gone too far, and was about to apologize, when behind me I heard a long-awaited noise.
"Kirk to Enterprise." Shhhhh.
I turned, away from the woman as I jumped. I slid back into my truck all the way, into the seat, and shut the door behind me, turning the knob that increased the volume.
"Speak again." I urged, my brow furrowing as time began to pass yet again. And just when I began to think that I had heard nothing at all, it sounded again.
"Kirk to Enterprise."
"Thank Primus," I breathed, as I grabbed the receiver and pressed the button, cutting off the static and speaking into it. "This is Optimus Prime."
"Sarge!" Psshhhhht. "Boy am I glad I could get ahold of you!" Psshh. "Scooby Doo! Where are you?!" Psshh. "Well, you see, I'm not quite myself." Psst. "I'M ONLY HUMAN!"
"Bumblebee. I am glad to be ahold of you, as well." I turned on the GPS, my finger tapping on the steering wheel as I waited for it to start up. This was becoming habitual; I had done it multiple times before, while I was waiting for someone to answer my call. At last, the GPS stopped loading, and pinpointed the location as to where I was. San Diego, California, in one of the outward suburbs. I frowned for a moment, wondering how I had gotten there, and I said, "Send me your coordinates, Bumblebee. And I will go to your location."
There was a second before he answered, relaying his coordinates over the radio. I typed them in on the touch-screen pad, watching as it loaded again, but this time it was quicker, and rerouted a location for me. At that time, Shawn exited the house and walked into the garage, to stand by his still-bewildered sister. I opened the door, and leaned out, my optics passing a serious gaze to him. "Am I cleared to leave?" I asked.
"Wait . . . what . . . ? Leave?" he asked, his face contorting with confusion.
"Yes. I must go, if I am cleared."
"Go? Where?"
"I have already told you, once, that I am not alone. It is time for me to find them." I said, and he nodded once. "Your family. Alright, you're cleared."
"Thank you for all of the hospitality you have shown me. I can only hope that I can repay you for the kindness you have shown me." I said, before closing the door again and turning to leave, stopping as I realized that there were no keys. I paused, looking at the steering wheel for a moment, my gaze going blank.
"Visor, Optimus. Look in the visor." Shawn called.
I looked up, and pulled down the rectangular visor, watching as a single key dropped down and into my awaiting palm. I looked to Shawn and his sister Hannah and nodded once, and inserted the key into the ignition. Shawn stepped up and knocked on my door, and stood back as I opened it yet again. He outstretched a roll of human currency, his face stern. "Take it. It's two hundred dollars. I've been saving up, knowing you'd leave eventually. Don't spend it all in one place."
"I will not." I promised, before shutting the door once last time, and turning the key, hearing the engine roar to life, loud enough that Shawn and Hannah covered their ears, and I looked into the rearview mirror, and pulled out of their garage, following the GPS's directions as I went, and pulling out of the suburb, leaving them behind, knowing Bumblebee was ahead.
"Stay in contact with me, Bumblebee," I directed, into the receiver as I kept one hand on the wheel, both optics on the road. It seemed I had not lost my skills when it came to driving, and I was relieved. My hand gripped the wheel as I turned, and he answered, at last.
"—glad to know you're there!"
"Yes, I must say I feel the same way. I am in-route."
