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I do not like people. That fact just needs to be clear so that my actions are understandable. People make me uncomfortable and avoiding them at all costs is a long held practice. So, while I did have enough money to rent a hotel, it seemed more preferable to save it and just sleep in the truck. Save the money for food, don't have to go talk with someone about renting a room, and I would probably get more sleep here than in an unfamiliar bed.
The first night I stopped in an empty parking lot outside a train yard. My father and I had passed this place a number of times before, but that did not mean it was safe. Fortunately, I had checked under the seats before I left and had found the metal baseball bat that frequented that space. Did I mention my father's paranoia? Whether or not it was over the top, the bat was a welcome weapon. A couple knives and some steel balls to the eye can only do so much damage.
By that time it was nearly four in the morning and I was about to crash. Pulling over and making sure the doors were locked, I settled into the back before pausing. The container was hidden under a blanket, just under the seats, but I still thought something didn't seem right. Doors locked, windows up, a thick blanket to keep me warm, container hidden, weapons in reach... Finally I sighed and pulled the object out. Settling the glowing thing next to me, I curled up and covered everything with the comforter once more. It was safer if I just held onto it. Laying on my side with my knees drawn up put the metal cylinder against my chest. The nearby city lights blocked out any stars I may have seen from my window, as my head lolled back and I relaxed. Drifting off, it occurred to me that the container seemed warm.
The Ark was quiet, nestled in the mountain. It was night time, meaning it was always slightly quieter than in the day, but now the silence seemed oppressive. A gloomy film covered everything. Only three mechs sat in the rec room. The only reason for their state of consciousness instead of recharge was the change of shift soon. Well, Cliffjumper and Hound had a shift soon. Ironhide just wasn't in the mood to recharge.
Not a word was said as the large rust red warrior downed another cube. Hound just sat slumped over onto the table staring at nothing while the minibot glared at his energon. Finally he quietly spoke up.
"I say we do something about this. The….Twins... and I don't, I mean didn't, always get along...but the cons can't just get away with something like this. They can't just kill some of ours and go creeping back to their ship!" Cliffjumper's face was twisted into a scowl as he glared at nothing. He may not have liked the Twins that much, (far too many pranks would be the cause), but he hated the Decepticons more. The green tracker didn't bother to look up as his helm slumped farther down to rest on their table. Ironhide, on the other hand snarled.
"And wut would yah have us do? Prahm said nobody, an' a' mean nobody, leaves." A thick southern accent colored his words. It had grown more pronounced within the last twelve hours.
"Why won't Optimus let us have a go at them?! We can't just..." the minibot's tirade was cut off by Ironhide slamming his fist down on the table.
Partially standing and leaning forward he towered over Cliffjumper, "Do ya' really think this is the first tahm he's lost some bots?! He ain't wantin' tah lose aneh more a' us Jumper. If it was mah choice I'da already left tah get aftah them. But we ain't Prahm so we're ain't goin' nowhere. Hush yer vocalizah already." He growled, pale optics glaring out of a furious face. Ironhide wasn't the best person when it came to keeping his temper and his comrade's words were starting to get to him. Luckily Hound had heard enough.
Lifting his head a few inches, the forest green jeep looked over tiredly, "Can we not fight? I don't think it will help anything." Not a trace of the usual cheeriness could be heard in his words. Both red Autobots looked at each other for a moment and then at their quiet friend before the tension fled from their postures and Ironhide sat back down. Cliffjumper resumed glowering at his cube.
Silence once again reigned with the occasional crash echoing from the hall. The only loud noises to be heard lately were from the training room. By the sound of it, someone was tearing apart the training drones again. This would be the third time they'd run out in the last half a day. After a few minutes the doors slid open and a metal stegosaurus peeked his head in. Slowly Snarl walked in with his spiked tail dragging quietly across the floor. None of the mechs looked up.
Once he was in front of the other Autobots he spoke, startling them, "Grimlock say Twins not come back. This true?" he stared at them with sharp blue optics.
They looked at each other questioningly. Snarl was the quietest of the dinobots. Not in the way that he wasn't loud, but he didn't talk to any of the others as much. The fact that he was speaking to them, by himself, was a surprise. Finally Hound found his voice.
"...Yeah...They're dead. They're not coming back." He couldn't look the stegosaurus in the optic and turned away, posture completely drained of energy.
Cliffjumper studied Snarl, "Since when do any of you lot care if one of us offlines?" He questioned with the slightest bit of sarcasm in his voice. The dinobots didn't get along with the others and had made it perfectly clear several times that they thought they were the best because they were stronger and tougher than everyone else.
Snarl thumped his tail against the floor but didn't change his stance or transform. The other three mechs tensed in case he decided to fight. You learned early on not to piss one of them off or you got hurt. Badly.
But the mainly gray and yellow bot just looked at them, "Us dinobots respect Twins. They strong and good fighters. Look out for brother and other Autobots." His statement was met with wide optics as they thought over his words. Without anything else being said, Snarl lowered his head and went back out through the door.
No movement, no sound. After what seemed to be an eternity Hound stood and Cliffjumper followed after checking his chronometer. Their shift was starting.
For a few minutes I drifted in the place between awake and asleep. And then I lurched with a start when I realized that my bed was not were I had been resting. Lying across the back seat of my Dad's truck I caught the first glimpses of sunlight peaking above the skyline past the fields. My blanket was scrunched up around me and I looked down to find myself hugging the very warm metal container as if it were a teddy bear. A very large teddy bear, considering it almost came up to my waist, but I was hugging it nonetheless. Thankfully there was no one to see such a display.
Straightening, I groaned and wished my body had let me sleep another few hours. Curse my inability to get a good rest in unfamiliar places. With a sigh, I crouched and pulled breakfast out of the cooler. An apple and a turkey sandwich. Yum.
After downing some water and checking to make sure no one had messed with the vehicle while I slept, I settled back into the seat and eyed my cargo, the chilly morning air filtering in through the door cracked open. Why was it warm? I mean, it was obviously some sort of high tech thing but was it actually running? Was that why it didn't feel cold like metal usually did?
Frowning, I reached out to feel the glass. Warmth. The orbs floated around following my fingers again. Without realizing it, the corners of my mouth had started to turn up in a smile. Lowering my hand to the bottom of the cylinder, cool metal met my touch. Interesting. The orbs inside were making the heat, not the actual container. They were the more important piece here. Which made sense, seeing as how that Autobot had been carrying them inside his chest and not in this thing in the first place.
I decided I'd spent enough time in contemplation when I should be getting a move on. A check in the mirror revealed my hair to be a mess and my clothes rumpled. A sigh broke out of my chest, before I once again climbed into the back, this time to change into something cleaner. After pulling on a different shirt and another dark jacket, I finger combed my hair and tied it back once more. Time to hit the road again.
The day passed relatively slowly. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. I drove, stopped every few hours for a ten or so minute break, and munched on a granola bar or two. Passing cities, towns, and mostly flat farmland, time seemed to sweep by at an odd pace. It wasn't quick mind you, but different may have been the better word to use. Most of it was quiet too, except when the windows were down and wind rushed in to blow past my face. I wasn't desperate enough to even try the radio. Along the way I couldn't help but pick out things that caught my eye. Two guys on cantering horses as they raced across a paddock, a helicopter zooming by overhead, buildings and roads and cars and more roads and argh. By the time dinner rolled around I had lost my interest in anything and everything around me and it felt like my eyes were going to bug out of my head from the constant staring. How did people drive for so long?! At least it was nice and sunny today. Probably to make up for all the rain the day before. Thanks weather. You're so nice.
Ugh. I was hungry again, and tired and the evening shadows had started to creep across the ground. They conquered the patches of light and moved on, leaving nothing bright as the sun sank. Pulling into a diner on the outskirts of a small city, I checked my map to make sure I was on the course I had planned and decided a little cash lost for food was better than eating what was packed. Warm food won out against chilly leftovers stored in the cooler.
There were tall structures ahead and probably nicer places to eat as well, but I could deal with some cheap food as long as there were no pickles with it. I do not like pickles. Cumbers yes, pickles no. Hiding the orbs under a blanket once more I got out and made sure I had everything on me. Wallet? Check. Slingshot? Hidden on inside of jacket, Check. Knives? Left in vehicle. As much as I would have loved to bring them with me, I was quiet sure the management would have problems with me carrying such things into their place and I wasn't about to tempt fate.
Apparently fate decided to mess with me anyways. As soon as I locked the door and started across the parking lot, dodging broken glass and weeds growing out of cracks, there came a growl. I turned to see green eyes watching me from the tangled growth and dumpsters. Another growl and then a bark. I snarled in return and gave a low rumble. Without stopping or speeding up I kept march across the old asphalt. Sorry bud if I'm in your territory. Just passing through. Don't mess with me.
I wasn't followed and quickly ordered something for my hollow stomach. Wolfing down the sandwich and fries, (sans pickles), it occurred to me that Dad would be so disappointed if he knew I was eating greasy junk. Unfortunately, I couldn't find it in myself to care. He couldn't expect me to follow his rules forever. And he would keep trying, no matter how old I was. He couldn't stop me now.
A flash of guilt at my non-caring attitude and then I finished eating and slipped out. No one had looked at me when I'd come in and no one paid any attention when I left, and that was just how I liked it. Fishing the keys out of my pocket, I had just hit the unlock button when something bit the back of my lower right leg.
"Aaahhh!" I shrieked at the sudden and unexpected pain and whirled to find a very dangerous looking dog snapping at my face. In the two seconds I used to study it I got a few things: it was hungry by the way I could see it's ribs so definitely a stray, it was not above attacking people by the way it had bit me and was now snarling, and it was probably a mongrel, as I didn't recognize what breed it was. None of that really was useful to me except that a very aggressive brown feral dog was attacking.
I kicked at it with my good leg and it bared very nasty looking teeth. Damn, this was a big dog. With another snarl and a constant rumble emanating from the stray, it lunged and went for my face. Two seconds of panic followed by instinctual anger. Adrenaline hit my veins and I forgot how tired I was in the face of a threat. With a yell I swung at it and the canine jumped back. I rushed it, hoping it would see I wasn't easy prey and back off. Instead the dog just got madder and started up an angry barking as it lunged forward and then back, trying to bite me the whole time. Baring my own teeth and sending another kick, I struggled to get my slingshot out and grab a ball. The stray managed to get it's teeth into my bad leg again.
Yelping in pain, I crashed to the ground and started wrestling with him. I was bigger yes, but now he could potentially get to my throat. Fighting to keep his biting mouth away from my face, I kicked and fought. Inside my thoughts yelled at me. MOVE! DON'T LET HIM BITE YOU! HIT DAMN IT! HIT HARDER!
With a howl, I finally tossed him off and slammed both my fists onto his muzzle. Whining and hurt, the filthy dog staggered back and turned tail. I gave another howl as a warning not to return and shakily started getting up to see people coming out of the diner. Ah shit. Just what I needed. A worried looking woman rushed over to me and started jabbering.
"We heard some noise and saw that thing attacking! Are you alright?! I bet there's a first aid kit inside..." She continued on hurriedly, all the while trying to gently put her arms under my right shoulder as if I needed to lean on something. With frustration, I realized I did. My ankle hurt like hell and a stinging pain went through it when I stood up completely. Shaking her off I shook my head and leaned away from all the people who were now trying to crowd around me, a panicked chatter blocking out the normal sounds of the night and the nearby city.
"No, no. I'm fine. Just a little bruised." I white lied and tried to get away. Too many people I didn't know, waaaaaaaayyyy to close. I needed to leave. Now.
A man spoke up, "Ma'am, you have to go to the hospital! If a wild animal bites you, you need a tetanus shot." Shitshitshit. I could not go to the hospital. There was no way to hide/explain the container and I absolutely could not just leave it in the truck.
"Look, I'm fine. I'm leaving now." Ignoring the protests and pushing people out of the way I got into my truck and locked the doors. The concerned customers and possibly workers gawked at me and tried to argue but I had a closed window between us. Starting up and carefully maneuvering around people I got the hell out of dodge without looking back and put some distance between me and that incident. Which was not easy considering my ankle and lower leg felt like hell.
Finally after about fifteen minutes I was many miles away and almost alone on an empty stretch of road. Turning into a motel by the side, I pulled in and went to ask the management for a key. With only a curious eye at my current state, (I didn't know how I looked), it was handed over in exchange for some bills and I was carrying my bags into the room, trying not to limp. Damn that dog.
I was not in the mood to sleep in the truck tonight. Maybe tomorrow night. Argh. Stupid canine. I didn't do anything to you. Maybe I smelled like food, I had just eaten. Didn't matter, it was over with. Locking the door and setting my weapons in easy reach, I dumped the huge bag carrying my cargo on the bed and went into the bathroom with my first aid kit. Pulling my hair down I looked in the mirror. A mess greeted me.
Straggly hazelnut hair in a whirlwind style, a dirt covered jacket with several small tears and rips, a small red area on the side of my face. It may or may not form into a bruise. Exhausted gray-blue eyes looked back at me. Pulling the jacket off, I dumped it on the floor. Who knows what was on it, considering I was rolling on the ground and the stray was most definitely not clean. Sitting down on the toilet, I checked my leg to find my jeans weren't torn. Carefully peaking underneath I found the skin to be only slightly broken. The tough denim had kept it's teeth off me just not enough to stop the dog from drawing blood. So did I still need a rabies shot if the animal didn't actually touch my skin with it's teeth? Shrugging it off as something to be dealt with at a more proper time, I dressed and bandaged the small wounds before rotating my ankle. Odd, it seemed to hurt more when the muscle was stretched. I snorted. Figures. The worst was actually a pulled muscle, not a dog bite. Oye fate, why do you enjoy messing with me so?
I changed into sweat pants and another shirt. I would have to find a place to wash my clothes soon, seeing as the amount I'd brought was limited. Exhausted and thoroughly done with today I curled up on the bed and hugged the container. It was warm alright? Bite me.
Sighing, I pressed my head to it and lazily watched the orbs swirl closer. Sinking into a half sleep, I let the panic and fear rush up before fading. It had been a long day, and completely different from what I was used to. Maybe tomorrow would be slightly less traumatic. A slight tug on my insides.
Poke.
I brushed the sensation aside. Tired and worried Shay meant not amused Shay ignoring whatever was being bothersome. It came again as the dread settled in my stomach.
Poke. Comfort.
Huh, that was nice, I thought sleepily. It didn't occur to me to wonder what it was. Relaxing a slight bit at the nice feeling and finally drifting off completely, my mind shut down.
One turned it's attention to the other. Fear, anger, worry. They felt this from the Other. The one questioned if they should do something. They didn't like these feelings. They didn't like the Other feeling bad. One of them gave a shrugging feeling and watched with wary curiosity. The other one gently sent out a questioning.
Poke.
The bad feelings were still there. However, they could feel it when the Other felt the question. But there was no response.
Poke. Comfort.
Calmness took over, followed by drowsiness as they realized the Other was once again less awake than before. The Other had done this earlier. At least the bad feelings were gone now. Satisfied, one of them turned to the other one and they conversed in feelings and vague thought, as words did not exist in this place. What was to be done about the Other?
One of them did not trust this one so much. The other one didn't trust so easily either, but liked this one. The Other was keeping them safe. With nothing more to worry them, they responded to the Other's drowsiness with their own and settled in the dark warm place to rest. One presence curled around the other one's, leaving only feelings of content happiness as they slumbered together.