The Next Adventure

by A.J. Parker94

Ellie Barron had a plan: to live a quiet life when she moved to Jasper with her grandmother, go through high school with no trouble, and maybe make some friends along the way. Even with a prosthetic leg, that shouldn't be hard. But what she didn't plan on was discovering an alien race living among her in the throes of war. Turns out life had other plans that barely involve "quiet."

8. A Little Less Conversation

A/N- Well, hello there! It's been a minute, hasn't it?

Yeah, it's been a crazy couple years. But, I'm finally back on a writing kick and back into the Transformers game! And to make it up, here's a long chapter for you, where Optimus's first act as Ellie's dad-I mean guardian is to help bring her out of her shell more.

She'll be fine. Once she's done dry-heaving from the mere concept.

Disclaimer: Transformers is owned by Hasbro. I only own my OCs.

Enjoy!

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"Now where's that—oh, there it is. And then…"

Ellie scurried around her room early the next morning, getting her things ready for the day ahead, much like the previous morning. She kept mumbling under her breath, whether it was whatever object she was currently searching for, or any other thoughts that sprang up while she did so. The main difference was that this time around, she moved with more purpose. After yesterday's events, she had a better idea of what to expect—that is to say, she still had no idea what to precisely expect from her new friends (and enemies, apparently, given how the Decepticons seemed acutely aware of her acquaintance with the Autobots when they snatched her and the boys up). Yesterday, she'd assumed that she'd just be spending the entire time cooped up in the silo, and look how that turned out. Absolute chaos.

So she decided to approach it like one would with Murphy's Law: that in any field of endeavor, whatever can possibly go wrong, will go wrong. And if there was anyone who's had experience with things going wrong unexpectedly, it was her. She had the scars to prove it.

But she was also an optimist, if naively so, so there was that.

"Bandages, antiseptic wipes, cold packs, tape, scissors…" Ellie listed off the various items in the travel-size first-aid kit she kept with her old camping pack, while mentally taking note of what could be added to it. She didn't have much means in the way of defending herself against a giant robot head-on; just what she already knew: hide, or run like crazy and hope for the best. Of course, throwing random objects at them to confuse them was a thing—not that it really helped much. But she could still be prepared for other eventualities, like getting lost or separated from the team, or if her or the others got hurt somehow.

Like Fowler, she thought with a troubled frown, remembering how he looked when they picked him up from the Decepticon warship—all bruised up and disoriented…and those burn marks. She shuddered. It was disheartening to think that even a person like Fowler, a grown adult who's known about Autobots and Decepticons for far longer than she has, couldn't stand much of a chance against them alone. That didn't leave much hope for someone like…well, like her.

That's why you have your guardian now.

She smiled a little at that.

And besides, she could always learn as she went along to better fend for herself and the others if need be—as she always did.

Hopefully, Agent Fowler would be feeling better today, or at least be lucid enough to talk more coherently.

Remembering Fowler's injuries gave her another idea. Shoving the kit into her bag, she left her room, flitted down the hallway and into the bathroom. She opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed the bottle of the generic brand of painkillers. Then, pushing some items aside, she found an extra tube of prescription bacitracin gel and some sterile pads from the back.

She could stand to give them up for Fowler. She didn't really need them anymore anyway.

After putting them in her bag, she left the bathroom and headed for the kitchen, perhaps to grab some quick snacks to save for later, but slowed a bit when she heard faint but clear music being played down the hall. She listened closely, then smiled.

Isla was up and listening to her own music on her day off.

She continued toward the kitchen, singing along languidly, "Don't know much about a science book. Don't know much about the French I took. But I do know that I love you. And I know that if you loved me too, what a wonderful world this would be."

She found Isla sitting at the dining table, a plate of jammed toast, sliced fruit, and a mug of tea in front of her. Sam Cooke proceeded to play on the vinyl from the living room over.

"Morning," Ellie greeted.

Isla regarded Ellie from over her cup before saying, "I knew you were prone to be up at early hours, but I figured that being out all day yesterday would've tired you out at least a little more than usual."

Ellie didn't have a response to that—mostly because a peculiar noise coming from somewhere behind her grabbed her attention, and she turned around to see what it was.

Just outside the sliding glass door to the backyard lay three large bowls of what looked like a mix of night's dinner scraps spread out among the brick patio. And stationed at these bowls were a scruffy mix-bred dog and two equally unkempt cats.

"Oh…'kay," Ellie muttered, staring at the animals ravenously eating away like it was the best meal they've had in years, occasionally snarling warningly at one another when one got a little too close to the other.

"Going out again, I see?" Isla asked, pulling her attention back.

"Yeah, I am."

"I don't suppose you can stand to have a little breakfast first?"

Ellie only managed to get out an, "Uh," before she was quickly cut off by Isla, voice stern and final, "Sit down and eat something; you're looking frail. Whatever is out there waiting for you can wait a little longer."

Ellie snuck a look over Isla out the front window, listening for a faraway sound. Optimus hadn't arrived yet, but he could still be on his way, and she didn't want to keep him waiting for too long. So, trying not to give away that she was being held up, she obliged while Isla poured her a cup of tea. They sat in silence for a long moment.

"So you slept well, then?" Isla asked.

Ellie glanced away once. "I slept. You?"

"The same."

More silence. Ellie stiffly took a bite of toast to fill the awkward void, before she swallowed and said, "I see you got around to leaving out food for the local strays."

She looked back outside at said strays still eating away, then returned to her unconcerned grandmother.

"You never had a problem with that before."

"I don't, so long as we don't accidently attract another pig."

Isla gave her a shrewd look. "You loved Corn Chip—claimed her as your soulmate, even."

"Exactly. I wasn't ready to say goodbye, and I don't want to go through that emotional turmoil again."

A corner of Isla's lips twitched up. "Well, don't worry. The town seems to be free of wild pigs and the nearest farm is a few miles out of town. "

"A shame, but for the best," Ellie mumbled under her breath.

Isla released a low, but humorous hum at her comment. Then they each took a sip of their tea.

"So," Isla was the first to speak when they placed their cups back down on the table, "any specific plans for today?"

And there it is.

As much as she didn't enjoy deceiving her grandmother, Ellie had already come up with things to say about what she's been/would be up to away from the house without rousing suspicion—basically, things that she would've been doing anyway, all while conveniently leaving out the part about transforming aliens and the imminent threat to the planet. Isla definitely didn't need to know that newly equipped part of her life yet.

She feigned a look of contemplation for show before she answered, "I think I'll check out the far edge of town towards the desert. Maybe I'll find some geodes for my collection. I read that the desert is a hot spot for them, especially the volcanic ones."

Isla frowned. "You know you can just buy those at the store, right?"

"Yeah, but that takes all the fun out of finding them yourself, for free."

Isla still seemed displeased by the idea. "Well, you're not taking my best shovel that far out of the way. I don't want you tracking in dirt, either."

"Fine."

Isla didn't need to know about the trowel she had hidden in her bag, either.

"After that, I might head over to the library to do some research for the science fair coming up; I'm thinking of doing something related to plant growth," Ellie continued. "Then I might check out the gardening center…" she shrugged after a short pause, "…or I might just wander around until something interesting comes along. We'll see how the day goes."

"Hmm," Isla hummed considerately before she asked, "And how about these new friends of yours? Been spending time with them still?"

"Oh, yeah. We hung out all day yesterday—showed me around some more. Might meet up with them again if I have the time."

"Is that so?" Faint surprise flickered across Isla's features, rendering her silent for a moment. "And do they…have you…?"

She gestured to Ellie, letting her know what she was implying.

Ellie shifted her prosthetic slightly. "Well…" she started, but had trouble articulating the rest of her answer, because the truth itself was immensely complicated.

"I had a…bit of an accident yesterday—which wasn't a big deal. I'm fine, honest. I just fell and, well…they saw."

Isla said nothing, emotionless, waiting for Ellie to continue.

"When we got the chance, I talked with hi—them, told them about my situation."

Isla raised an eyebrow a fraction. "And nothing else?"

At this, Ellie smiled with genuine content. "They didn't ask. They were very understanding. I mean, it's not like they don't see me differently from before, but...it's fine. We're still good."

A part of her was still reeling from just how well it went last night with Optimus. If anything, he felt bad that she was too afraid to tell him earlier, and quelled her fears, made her feel listened to and accepted. It was the most at ease she's felt at talking to someone outside her own family about something that personal in years.

Hopefully, that would be the same case for the rest of the team—once she finally got up the nerve to show them, that is.

"I've been telling you, people perceive you based on how you present yourself. As long as you don't treat it like a big deal, they won't either," Isla told her, almost as if she'd read Ellie's mind.

Ellie dropped her gaze momentarily. "Not everyone thinks that way, but yeah, I see your point."

A hint of suspicion and concern remained in Isla's hard expression as she assessed all that Ellie told her. "So things are going well with you now? With this town, school, and your peers?"

There was something about the doubt her grandmother expressed that made Ellie sit up straighter. "Is that really so hard to believe?" she asked quietly, but defensively.

"Well, you never made much of an effort before, with very little results to go with it, if any at all."

Now it was Ellie's turn to frown, looking away from Isla with her lips pressed together and a bitter heaviness in her stomach. And you know exactly why that was, she wanted to say, but she wasn't going to rip open that messed up can of worms if she could help it.

The elder woman saw this, and sighed. "It's just...it's been so long since I've seen you like this. What's different this time?"

Ellie shrugged. "I guess I just found the right people, in the right place."

Isla's face softened slightly. "So coming here was a good call, then?"

Ellie looked back at her in response to her change in tone. A moment later, her shoulders relaxed, and she gave a reassuring smile. "Yeah. Good call."

Ellie took another drink of tea before she remembered something. "Oh, and there's something else I want to ask you," she said. She'd realized that when she chose not to go with Jack last night, she had pretty much sealed the deal about being with the Autobots in the long run—and with that, being Optimus Prime's charge (was that the right word? It had to be). And she figured that meant mostly being with him whenever she wasn't at home; an example being him taking her to and from school.

And Ellie didn't think Isla would approve of her granddaughter riding in an eighteen-wheeler she didn't know anything about—much less a sentient one.

Isla's brows went upward, which Ellie took as a sign to proceed, "Well, it's just, my friends—we actually don't live that far from each other, and I was wondering if it was okay if I started walking to school with them from now on. Like, we meet up a couple blocks over and head on from there. Not—not that I don't like you driving me, but—"

"That's fine. You can do that."

"I—" Whatever argument Ellie had to help her case vanished from her mind in an instant. "Wait, really?"

"Mm-hm. It saves me gas money, you get more exercise, and gives me more time to get ready for work. I see no problem with it…" Isla flashed Ellie a stern glare, "…so long as you get to school on time and don't get yourself into trouble."

Ellie nodded immediately to acknowledge Isla's conditions, but just to be absolutely sure, she still couldn't help but ask, "So that's it? You're totally fine with it?"

"What else do you want, a kiss on the cheek?" Isla deadpanned.

Just then, Ellie heard what she's been subtly listening for from somewhere outside: a diesel engine.

Aaannnd that's your cue to leave.

"Okay great thanks!" She shoved the rest of her toast in her mouth and chugged down that last of her tea, before she swiftly got up, taking her dirty dishes with her to put in the dishwasher first. Then she grabbed her bag and headed out.

"See you later, Gran!" she threw over her shoulder before pushing through the front door, smiling when her eyes caught the familiar red and blue semi parked a couple of houses away across the road.

She only made it halfway across the lawn before Isla's voice yelled out behind her, loud enough to wake up the whole street, "Hold it right there, lassie!"

Ellie nearly tripped over herself as she stopped abruptly, turning around with a "deer caught in headlights" expression.

"Yes?" she said, quickly schooling her face so as not to seem so guilty.

Luckily, Isla either didn't notice or care, because she simply stopped before Ellie and handed her a fold of cash.

"If you do end up going to the gardening center, would you pick up some cilantro seeds for me?"

Ellie looked down at the offered money, counting it, then back up at Isla. "Can I get primroses for the window boxes?"

"You can get enough for one."

"Three?"

"One."

"Two?"

"One."

"…Three?"

Isla shot her a look, then sighed. "Two."

Ellie grinned. "Done."

Note to self: Ask Optimus if he's okay with carrying plants in his cab.

"And remember, be home by seven for dinner. You have school tomorrow."

"I will."

Gran regarded her with those icy, piercing eyes. "See that you do this time."

Ellie's smile faltered, remembering the intense scolding she'd received the other night from being out too late without any warning. She was not mentally prepared to wallow in that kind of shame again.

"Ten-four," she managed to say.

"Over and out."

Ellie slowly backed away as she watched Isla return to the house. Once the front door shut, she turned back around and picked up the pace toward Optimus again. The second the passenger door opened, she quickly scurried inside in case Isla decided to come back out to say something else. She muttered the usual, "Good morning," to Optimus, who returned the gesture.

"That was your grandmother, was it not?" he asked after she fastened her seatbelt.

"Yep," she said fleetingly. She supposed she should feel embarrassed that he saw all that, but even she knew it was bound to happen one way or another.

Optimus said nothing for a moment, as if in thought. She could've sworn she saw one of his outside mirrors subtly angle toward her house once, then return to its usual position as he started to pull out onto the road again.

"I will ensure that you are home by your designated curfew."

Ellie stared, then tried but failed to hold back a snort of laughter. He only saw the woman for all of fifteen seconds, and already, he was adapting well.

"Thanks," she said with an amused, but still grateful smile. "That'd be great."

As he drove away from her street and started making their way through downtown Jasper, she internally debated over what question, out of several she had regarding the previous day's events, to ask him first.

She eventually settled on, "So, have you had any luck with that picture we took from the warship? Or is it too soon to tell?"

"We have, in fact. Your observation that it may be a blueprint turned out to be correct—engineering blueprints for a space bridge."

"Space bridge?" she repeated in confusion, then recalled Ratchet's (very vague) explanation of bridge technology the day they met, and it clicked. "Oh. A scaled-up version of a ground bridge."

"Indeed. With it, Megatron will have the means for interstellar travel—if he hasn't built it already."

"But what does he want with a space bridge, besides go literally anywhere?"

At first, Optimus didn't respond right away, making her look towards the radio in concern.

"I do not wish to alarm you, but given that it concerns the fate of your world, you must know," he finally said with some hesitance. "I fear that Megatron will use the space bridge not to go somewhere himself, but to send a massive amount of dark energon to Cybertron, reviving all of its deceased inhabitants…and bring them to Earth as his conquering army."

Ellie sat in heavy silence, letting that revelation sink in. Well. Great, she thought wryly. The general concept/genre of a zombie apocalypse never sat well with her to begin with; too gritty for her taste. Adding giant alien robots into the mix was just a whole new level of insane.

If it weren't such a dire ordeal, it would be every sci-fi fan's dream.

"So what now?" she asked him.

"Now, we find the space bridge, and stop Megatron from going through with his plan."

"How do you find a space bridge?" She's never seen one before, but given how big a ground bridge was, she assumed that a space bridge would be much bigger.

"A space bridge is a profound feat of Cybertronian technology—one that requires a large quantity of power and fuel to operate. When something of that magnitude gives off so much energy, it can be tracked by our energon sensors, so long as it is not cloaked. And so it stands to reason that, if Megatron's plan is close to fruition and the space bridge is close to being operational, we could pinpoint its signature."

"Sounds easy enough," she remarked.

"Not so much. Ratchet and I have been working tirelessly to locate it, searching every possible region on the planet, but so far, it eludes us."

Ellie mulled that over, thinking carefully. "Do you think maybe…?" she muttered, but then shook her head. "No, never mind."

"What is it?"

Ellie glanced at the dashboard unsurely before she ventured, "Well…what if the space bridge...isn't on Earth at all? What if it's somewhere else? Maybe somewhere just far enough away where no one else can get to it by regular means. Like somewhere in space, or on the moon…"

She paused, not sure exactly where she was going with her idea.

"I mean, if I wanted to build a giant portal that could take me anywhere in the galaxy without people bothering me, and I had a giant ship at my disposal, that's what I'd probably do," she finished with quiet uncertainty. For a moment, Optimus was silent, furthering her doubts. The more she thought about it, the more unlikely it seemed.

"That is possible."

Ellie blinked. Well, I stand corrected. "You think so?"

"Yes. I can recall a time long before, when Cybertronians thrived on other worlds, space bridges were stationed just within the planets' orbits to make room for proper departure and arrival in space," he explained.

Ellie leaned forward in her seat, intrigued. Cybertron wasn't the only planet that had Cybertronians living on it? How many were there? Were they still out there somewhere?

"Really? That's neat."

"Yes." Optimus's tone shifted then; it almost sounded like there was a bit of a smile in his voice. "Good thinking, Ellie. Once we return to base, I will inform Ratchet of this and have him broaden our search."

Ellie bristled a little at the compliment, only to clear her throat to cover it up. Yeah, better Ratchet take that advice from you than me, she thought.

She sat back again, deciding to change the subject. "How's Agent Fowler this morning?"

"He still hasn't regained consciousness. However…there were a couple of instances in the night where he would sit up and say something…eccentric, though he wasn't fully cognitive at the time."

Ellie sucked in air through her teeth, cringing. "Ah, yeah. He was doing that when we picked him up too. He must still be out of it, then."

"Yes. But we must consider it fortunate that the Decepticons weren't given the chance to do anything worse to him, or do the same to you and the others."

She put a hand to her arm, gently rubbing it. She was reminded of sometime the night before, after returning from their dangerous adventure, the Autobots had deduced the worst of his injuries to have been the result of an energon prod. She assumed it was something similar to an electric prod, but seeing as how it was a completely alien substance to the human body, it must've been devastating to Fowler, going by the many marks on him and his current condition.

"I just hope he comes out okay," she said quietly, turning her gaze to the passing scenery out the window. "And I hope he won't be too upset with you guys over it."

If anything, it was kind of our fault he got captured in the first place, she thought guiltily.

"As unfortunate as yesterday's events were, Agent Fowler knew the risks when he became Earth's liaison to the Autobots. And I'm sure that once he is made aware of our current situation, he will not hold it against us too much."

"Are you sure? Because it feels like even on a good day, he's never in the best mood to explain anything to," she remarked, thinking back to her first encounter with him, and how unwilling he seemed to listen to reason.

"It is as I said before, he is only concerned for this world—for your world. He may not always agree, but he is not unreasonable. He will listen when the safety of all is at stake."

She pressed her lips together at that, remembering how Fowler had tried to take her and the other kids away from the base. It wasn't a good idea, but he was doing it out of good intentions.

"Yeah, I guess so," she mumbled.

"And actually," Optimus said, his voice now laced with pensiveness, "I believe that, perhaps the best person suited to speak with him on this matter, is you."

Ellie couldn't help it; she jerked in surprise. Of all things she was expecting him to say, it definitely wasn't that. And to put it bluntly: the introvert in her wasn't taking it very well, a coil of anxiety tightening in her chest.

"W-what?" she stammered. "Me? But—but why?"

"Because despite your youth, and that you have only known us for a few days, you already have a deep understanding of our predicament on Earth—the implications of our history. And you did so by merely watching, listening, and speaking only when you felt it was right," he told her in a calming manner, with something in his voice that sounded like he was impressed by her.

Ellie hoped it was just the heat of the rising sun that was warming up her face then.

He continued, "Fowler may be our liaison, and has been for some time, but he hasn't made quite the same effort to connect with us on the level that you have—whether you've been aware of it or not. I am hoping that, perhaps you can extend that connection to him and help him understand better, especially if it's coming from someone of his own kind."

When he finished speaking, Ellie remained silent for a few long moments, mostly because she was still reeling from what he'd said. She wasn't sure if she really believed him on that matter; she hasn't talked to the other 'Bots as nearly as much as she has to Optimus so far, and even that wasn't a whole lot either.

Then again, the times when she has talked to Optimus, they were always significant, especially in regards to getting to know one another better, to understanding one another better.

To connecting with someone. Something she hadn't done by choice for the past several years. Not since Gene…she clenched her jaw, quickly shutting down the thought before it could progress any further.

Maybe he had a point, though. But there was still that nagging feeling of doubt in her brain. That fear that, if she said the wrong thing, it'd all be ruined. And it'd be all her fault.

"I don't know, Optimus. I just…I don't think I'm the right person for that," she said apprehensively, picking at the corners of her fingernails out of nervous habit. "I mean, I have trouble looking people in the eyes sometimes, let alone talking to them."

"If what Bulkhead told me yesterday was true," Optimus said, "you were able to convince him to rescue Agent Fowler when he was at first unwilling to."

Ellie's eyes flickered to the dashboard, taken aback that he knew about that, before she looked away, sinking a little in her seat.

"I…that wasn't just me," she murmured.

"Nonetheless, if it wasn't for your help, Agent Fowler might have been lost to us." His voice grew gentler. "At least consider it. You may surprise yourself. You've certainly surprised me."

Ellie frowned a little at that, remembering him saying the same thing the night before during their talk. You are a surprising human, he'd told her. She still didn't quite know what to make of that. There was not much to her to be surprised by—other than the prosthetic, anyway. She was just…her.

For a little while afterwards, neither she nor Optimus spoke as he drove them across the wide, empty desert, Ellie mulling over what he'd said. Then, gradually, her thoughts meandered onto another matter that she's been wanting to get off her chest since the night before.

"Hey, Optimus?" she broke the silence, "I was just wondering. Did you…did you tell Ratchet about me? Or has he asked? About, you know…me being an amputee? I mean—it's fine if you did, but…"

If it's fine, then why are you asking? chimed in that badgering voice in the back of her head, and her brow twitched, but otherwise gave no indication of her internal conflict.

"No, I have not told him; it is not my place to do so, after all. And he has not asked," Optimus replied. "Perhaps he is waiting to speak with you directly, or for you to speak with him. And I would be inclined to agree. This is something for you to decide whether or not to disclose to him—and the others as well—in your own time."

Ellie sighed heavily as she scrubbed a hand down her face, anxiety once again coursing through her veins like a cold chill. "Yeah, I was afraid of that."

"Ellie, it's alright. He will not hurt you," he soothed comfortingly. "In fact, out of any of us—besides maybe Bumblebee—it is my belief that Ratchet would be the most empathetic of your condition."

She dropped her hand from her face only to regard him with a look that just screamed, You messing with me right now?

"Really?" She couldn't keep the dryness out of her voice. "Ratchet, of all 'Bots? The same one who said I'd go 'squish' if I went underfoot?"

A soft but rumbling hum that definitely-probably sounded like a quiet chuckle reverberated throughout the cab from that, momentarily throwing her off.

"Yes, I am aware that Ratchet has been against human involvement with Team Prime, even long before you and the other children came along."

"Yeah, he's very open about that."

"And I know he can be…difficult to interact with at times. But trust me when I say, Ratchet is not as gruff as you are led to believe."

"Hmm," Ellie grunted doubtfully. "Well, they say a first impression is a lasting one, and I'd say it's lasting pretty well."

"That is not what I mean." Optimus's voice turned serious again. "Ratchet is our chief medical officer and scientist. As such, he faces the daily challenges of not only planning ways to help us gain the upper hand in our battle against the Decepticons, but also maintaining the health and safety of each member of Team Prime. We all work to do our part, but Ratchet feels he must take on so much of that responsibility for himself."

Ellie's features loosened, bewildered by the new perspective of the Autobot medic placed upon her. "Really?"

"Yes. We've all come to the conclusion that his short temper is merely a coping mechanism, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't care. In fact, he cares more than he wishes to admit, even to himself. So please, be patient when engaging with him. You may even find that you two have more in common than you think."

Her eyebrows furrowed, some of her skepticism returning from his final statement. Admittedly, she found that hard to believe, especially when every other time she's been within the same vicinity as Ratchet, he either groaned in annoyance at her presence, told her not to touch or say anything, or flat-out ignored her.

Well…except for when they were attacked by that dark energon-infected spider bot. He did try his best to protect her from getting hurt then. Maybe it was more out of obligation than genuine concern, but he still did it. Anyone who didn't care at all wouldn't have bothered.

The tension in her face ebbing away again, she asked Optimus again, just to be sure, "You really think so?"

"I know it in my spark."

Ellie stared blankly. "Your...spark?" she said, puzzled by the word but trying to understand from how he used it in a sentence.

"Ah…" Much like a couple of days prior, he seemed to have just realized that he was speaking in terms that she as a human was unfamiliar with. "Apologies. I sometimes forget that our terminologies often differ."

Ellie smiled warmly, not the least bit annoyed. She'd mark herself as a hypocrite if she was. "It's okay. I'm guessing a spark for you is like a heart for me?"

"In a way." He paused in a moment of consideration, trying to come up with the best way to explain. "Much like your heart, my spark is my life force. It pulses at a certain frequency to keep my energon flowing in my veins, to keep my body functioning."

"Can its frequency change too?" Ellie asked curiously. "Like when you're stressed or overexerted, it speeds up?"

"It can."

"And is it somewhere around here?" She pressed her hand over her own heart for his rear-view mirror to see.

"Yes."

"Cool."

"But it's more than that," he continued. "A spark is the very core of a Cybertronian, consisting of our memories, and our emotions. Some believe that it is part of our immaterial being. A…divine essence, if you will, one that carries on even after we expire."

Ellie sat in quiet awe. She never would've thought that robotic beings had a concept that sounded so…spiritual. She soon found her voice again, saying softly, "We have something like that too. We call it a soul."

Optimus hummed lowly in acknowledged agreement.

"It's pretty amazing," she said, mostly to herself, "how we have similar traits; we just call them different things."

"I suppose we should form a list of our different terminologies, to further avoid confusion when we speak of them," Optimus offered, and Ellie didn't miss the hint of humor laced in his voice that time.

She laughed lightly. "It's okay. I haven't had too much trouble figuring out what they mean. Power-down is like sleep. Spark is like a soul."

"And creators are like parents?"

Her smile softened, glancing away. "Yeah, that too. You just need to get the context."

"That is a clever way of learning."

"Yeah. Like yesterday, Bulkhead said something I'm 99% sure was a swear word."

It went utterly silent for three whole seconds.

"Is that so?"

The displeased tone in Optimus's voice made Ellie freeze, realizing that she had just ratted out Bulkhead for swearing in front of her and the other kids.

Oh, you done goofed, Ells.

She quickly backtracked, "Well—you know, it was a stressful situation at the time. Fowler tried to take us away and threatened to tell his boss when Bulkhead refused, and it just slipped out. I'm sure it's not that big of a deal; I could even be wrong. I mean, it's just the word fragged—"

Her entire rambling ceased as she slapped her hand over her mouth. She also thought she felt the entire cab jolt a little at the word—or, really, the fact that the word came out of her mouth specifically. She cringed. "Ugh, never mind. It even sounds bad when I say it….Sorry."

"It's alright. Just…" A rush of air hissed through the vents in a way that reminded her of a heavy sigh, its gentle breeze brushing against her face; she was pretty sure if he were in his robot form, he'd be pinching the bridge of where his nose would be if he had one. "…I advise you not to repeat it, along with any other profanities you might hear. Please."

"I won't," she immediately promised, not taking the particularly tired way he requested it so lightly.

She had run out of things to talk to him about after that. Thankfully, it wasn't long until they entered through the secret entrance to the Autobot base. Ellie exited Optimus's cab, carefully stepping down from him and into the main area, which was nearly empty save for Ratchet typing away on the main computer.

Once Ellie was a safe enough distance away, Optimus transformed into his bipedal form. After regarding her with a reassuring nod, he strode toward Ratchet, who had glanced their way only once when they'd entered the silo, before refocusing his sharp eyes into the computer.

"Still no trace of the Decepticon space bridge, Optimus," Ratchet reported, not looking away from the screen that showed a map of the planet.

"Perhaps you should take a break, old friend. You have been at it all night. I will proceed with our search for a while," Optimus offered kindly.

Ellie smiled to herself as she watched the two for a moment. Then, deciding to leave them to their business, she walked away, not hearing the rest of their conversation. It was still fairly early in the morning for a Sunday, and it was going to be a while until the other kids and their Autobot guardians joined them. So for the time being, she decided she might as well be comfortable waiting for the further company in silence and solitude while the present Autobots worked to find the space bridge.

A quick glance up at the lower platform showed her that Agent Fowler was still lying on the gurney out cold. She wandered a little ways away from the main area into a more secluded spot where bits of unidentifiable bits of metal and what looked like Autobot-sized tools lay scattered about. She found solace by climbing onto one of the large, white crates, tucking her good leg underneath her prosthesis as she sat.

Once she was situated, she dug into her bag and pulled out one of her books to read. She had a personal long-term goal of reading through every one of Jules Verne's Voyages Extraordinaires novels (or at least, the ones she could get her hands on that were translated to English). Currently, she was making her way through From the Earth to the Moon and Around it.

She opened her book and started reading, the distant sounds of activity around her becoming nearly muted to her ears as she lost herself in the story.

Pretty cool how people came up with the idea to go to space with just a really big cannon back then, she mused, absently taking a bite of a granola bar while not taking her eyes off the pages. I wish it was that easy…and fun.

She wondered what Verne would say if he were alive to see that not only has humankind mastered space-travel to the moon, but that they've come in contact with other sentient life from far beyond Earth. Probably, "Sacré bleu!" But she was sure he'd say it with upmost joy.

She was uncertain of how long she sat there reading, but eventually, a long while later, she was pulled out of her flow by a strange sound right above her—like someone clearing their throat, only with a more grindy and metallic timbre. She blinked and lifted her head up. Ratchet stood before her, looking down at her with his signature scowl. She tried not to wince from it.

Oh great, what now? Am I reading too loud?

"I need that," he said bluntly, pointing behind her.

She looked back and noticed one of his tools lying on the crate just behind where she sat; it looked like some kind of soldering device.

Glancing back at him once, she wordlessly scooted over to give him the space needed to get it before she turned her gaze back to her book. In her peripheral vision, she watched him reach for his desired tool, taking it, then pull away from her.

When he started to turn away, picking up one of the random pieces of metal off the floor as well, she thought that would be the end of their interaction for the day, but for some reason, he stopped and turned back. She could feel him looking at her now that she'd been made aware of his presence.

Ellie sat very still, keeping her eyes trained on her book, waiting with bated breath.

"You shouldn't sit so near my equipment. You could cause some damage."

Ellie held back a groan. Of course he'd only spare her another minute just to scold her for being near his stuff.

Yeah, because my mere presence will make your tools spontaneously combust.

Daring a glance up at him from under her eyelashes, she said evenly, "I'll keep that in mind."

Ratchet's frown deepened at her. "Good. The last thing I need is for you to needlessly hurt yourself while you're here."

That made her raise an eyebrow in surprise, but a moment later, she recomposed herself and went back to her book with a flat, "Mm-hm," in response.

She heard him huff out an irritated sigh before stepping away. He didn't go far, though, kneeling down and starting to tinker with the various bits of metal and wiring just within Ellie's line of view. Her eyes flickered between him and the main area, where she could see that Optimus had taken Ratchet's previous place at the computer. She looked back to Ratchet once more, before going back to her book.

However, she had a hard time concentrating on the words this time, and she didn't know why. She could usually drown out background noises easily while reading in public. Maybe it was just the fact the he was right there, but for some reason, she couldn't help but sneak glimpses up at Ratchet every time he made a particular loud clanging noise, or muttered quietly to himself. She'd quickly look away once she felt he was about to raise his head, only to return to staring at him when he was too focused on what he was doing to notice.

Well, she thought he wouldn't notice, but a minute later, Ratchet whipped his head toward her and snapped, "What?"

She flinched, averting her gaze. "Nothing."

She heard him grumble something incomprehensible before he went back to his work.

For what felt like several minutes, Ellie just sat there, listening to him work. She glared down at the book in her lap, conflicted. Then she looked over at Optimus, who was still focused on the main computer, remembering his words to her about Ratchet on the drive over.

Okay, fine, she thought with a resigned sigh. If all she needed was to be patient to talk to the Autobot medic, then that's what she'd be—even if he wasn't going to make it easy. She was going to try. Sure, it may kill her, but she was going to try.

After all, it worked out with Optimus. Second time's the charm, right?

She took a deep, slow breath and let it out. Then, keeping her voice steady, she looked toward Ratchet and asked, "What are you working on?"

She was surprised when his frame stiffened at her question, looking over at her as if that was the last thing he expected. He regarded her with suspicion for a moment. Then, coming to the conclusion that she was merely curious, he answered, "I'm attempting to build a new manipulator arm."

Ellie's eyes darted to the jumble of gnarled metal and wiring in front of him in confusion. "A what?"

Ratchet sighed before explaining slowly, "The mechanism that Bulkhead destroyed, and then was corrupted into some hostile beast from the dark energon."

"Ohhh," she drawled with a slight frown. "Right, that thing. How did that happen, anyway?"

The Autobot medic went still at the question, suddenly looking hesitant.

"It's…possible that, while I was transferring the dark energon sample to the scanner, a drop may have fallen and landed onto the contraption," he replied reluctantly.

She looked back at his project, studying it—now that she knew what it was supposed to be, it did kind of look like the start of the same claw machine-like thing Bulkhead had smashed, only more haphazardly made so far, put together by spare parts found throughout the silo.

"One drop was all it took, huh?" she said pensively. And Megatron wants to use a lot more of it on bigger, more dangerous beings than basic hardware. She decided not to voice that statement aloud; she wasn't one to bring down a room even further. She let out a silent, calming breath and returned to her gaze to Ratchet, her features loosening slightly. "Well…at least you figured out what that stuff can do."

He lowered his tools, letting them rest on his knees. His fingers clenched tighter around them, making a faint creaking sound. "Yes…but it should not have been at the risk of those around me."

Ellie blinked, then regarded him with astonishment at the way he said that, but he didn't meet her gaze, his glare trained onto the contraption in front of him. If she didn't know any better, she would've thought he sounded guilty about what had happened the day before.

Wait…he was actually worried about me?

For a moment, she had no idea how to respond to that, what to say. Then she remembered something from right after the spider-bot incident.

"Didn't you say that dark energon was, like, extremely rare?" she asked him.

Ratchet sent her a look, obviously wondering why she mentioned that. "Yes?"

She shrugged. "So, until just recently, not a whole lot was known about it, right?"

H nodded, though he still had a hint of caution to his features. "Indeed. But with what happened with Cliffjumper, my equipment, and of course with our battle with the undead yesterday…it is safe to say that dark energon is a very dangerous matter, and must be treated with upmost care, or avoided as best we can."

"Yeah. Who would've guessed how dangerous it really is?"

"Megatron did. That arrogant warmonger actually infused himself with it in order to control his undead warriors."

Ellie grimaced. "Yeah, I heard about that. Did he ever stop and think that it might have a negative effect on him? That maybe the undead could control him instead of the other way around?"

Ratchet huffed. "Knowing him, probably not. And if he did, he didn't care. All he ever cares about is gaining power over others, no matter the consequences—even at the risk of his own wellbeing."

At that, Ellie couldn't help but release a "Pfft!" noise. Every time she learned something new about Megatron so far, the more she wanted to either be as far away from him as possible, or charge right up to him and fulfill her vow of bashing him in the face.

"What a loser," she muttered.

Ratchet suddenly released a loud noise that startled Ellie, making her jump—a sound equivalent to a snort—followed by a barely restrained chuckle. Ellie watched with wide eyes as Ratchet's shoulders shook a little with his laugh. Then he turned to look at her with an amused smirk.

"That is one thing we can both agree upon."

For some time, Ellie was at a loss for words, not expecting a positive reaction out of Ratchet at all—even if the subject matter wasn't exactly ideal. Then she smiled a little and nodded in reply.

Finding a common ground based on mutual dislike. She supposed it wasn't the worst way to get on someone's good side.

The mention of the dark energon, as well as seeing him rebuild the contraption, also reminded her of something.

"Thank you, by the way." At Ratchet's confused frown, she explained, gesturing to the half-built manipulator arm, "You know, for protecting me from that thing yesterday."

It was brief, but Ellie just managed to see his usually hard facial features soften at her, as if her gratitude was the last thing he thought he would ever receive. But then his firm demeanor returned, though it seemed like he had to force it that time, averting his gaze.

"Optimus was the one who destroyed it. I didn't do much against it," he said in a low grumble.

"Well, that's not true." When Ratchet looked back at her, she shrugged with a small but humorous smirk, hoping it would ease some of the tension again. "You threw that rod at it. Bought us, what, half a second? Three-quarters, tops?"

Ratchet rolled his eyes with a scoff. "Well, we can't all use detachable limbs as a weapon on hand, now can we?"

And that was when Ellie's thoughts ground to screeching halt, rendering her silent.

Did…did he just bring up my prosthesis through a quip?

She wasn't offended or anything; she knew the subject was going to be brought up sooner or later either by her or him. She just…wasn't expecting it to come about that way.

She must've been quiet for too long, because Ratchet had turned to fully face her again, his expression betraying mild concern. Shaking herself out of her stupor, she closed her book, set it aside, and regarded him with a level look.

"Yeah, all your guys' limbs can do is turn into actual weapons," she said wryly. "And for your information, it's just the one limb that can come off." She lifted her right leg an inch, pointing at it.

His bright blue eyes darted down to her leg for hardly a second before moving back up meet hers once more. Then, in the same way that she had set aside her book, he placed down his tools to one side, discarding his current project.

"So…" he started, almost warily, pointing a finger at her leg, "that is a…"

"Prosthetic," Ellie finished for him, speaking as calmly as she could.

"And that would make you—"

"An amputee, yes."

His metal brows furrowed, looking away. "Hmph," was all he grunted out before falling silent again.

Ellie had no idea what to make of that reaction. She really needed to get the hang of reading robot expressions.

But at least they were halfway past the hard part now. She shifted in her seated place uneasily.

"You don't—I mean, it's not a problem, is it?"

Ratchet suddenly straightened as he looked back at her, seeming genuinely surprised by her question. A moment later, he regathered himself in the form of letting out an annoyed-sounding huff.

"Please. I was a field medic during the war on Cybertron. Do you have any idea how many fellow Autobots whose limbs I had to remove due to severe battle injury? Sometimes even worse?"

"Oh…oh." Ellie blinked, stunned into silence as the comprehension of his words struck her hard and good. Now that he'd mentioned it, she wondered why she never considered that before. Perhaps she just assumed that, because they were made of seemingly indestructible metal, they never had to deal with cases extreme enough for amputation.

"I didn't know," she said quietly. "I mean, you guys are robotic. You can't just…I don't know, replace a limb by building a new one?"

"Perhaps long ago, back on Cybertron, when our resources were more abundant," Ratchet explained tersely. "But by the time we had to escape our dying planet, and our resources all but dwindled, well…" his eyes ran over his tools and the various mismatched mechanical parts with a distant frown. "…let's just say our options became very limited. No more advanced than what your planet could possibly offer."

Ellie stared at him, feeling a rush of sympathy that she didn't think would be directed toward him.

Do I even have the time to unpack all that?

"Right, of course," she said, her voice bleak. She carefully leaned back a little to rest her weight on her hands. "That must've been…" Horrible? Gruesome? Traumatizing? "…difficult."

Inwardly, she cringed at the adjective she settled for. For someone trying to be better about talking more openly, she wasn't doing as well as she'd hoped.

Ratchet let out another scoff, though she wasn't so sure if it was out of annoyance anymore. A hard look had taken over his face as he stared back, though he wasn't quite looking at her, almost like he was remembering something unpleasant. She waited patiently for him to speak, accepting that he may not express those thoughts aloud and instead just write her off again.

Until finally, he said in a low mutter, "Of course, all of those past patients were soldiers who willingly fought in battle—who knew what they were sacrificing, not civ—" he stopped suddenly, looking down at Ellie with a now blank face, but the girl had already put two and two together on what he was getting at.

"Civilians?" she provided softly.

His lips downturned into a frown, his gaze roving away from her wordlessly.

A small part of Ellie was taken aback by the implication of his words and the way he had looked at her—like he was finally acknowledging her as more than just some annoying human he had to be saddled with. That perhaps he was starting to see more of the similarities between their species as well.

Which, coming from Ratchet, seemed a little too surreal.

She rubbed her eyes with a sigh before returning her gaze to him. Her voice was gentler when she spoke, "Yeah…I may not have asked to be this way…" his eyes darted back to her, and she allowed her lips to inch up into a loose smile at him, "…but it is what it is. Sometimes we just have to work with what we've got—try and make some good out of it, you know?" Then, looking around at the ground bridge and other technological alterations made throughout the silo, she added, "Maybe even turn it into something better."

For a long moment, Ratchet said nothing, though he seemed to actually consider her words, eyes roving over his technological feats around the base as well before settling back on her, looking her up and down.

"And exactly how long have you been this way?" he asked her.

"Four years—long enough to know what I can and can't do."

He arched an eyebrow. "Like fight off pests?"

At that, Ellie couldn't help but smile sheepishly. "That's new, actually. But hey, if it works…" She shrugged offhandedly.

"Do you ever feel…" he struggled to find the right word for a couple of seconds before saying, "…discomfort?"

Her smile dropped, not answering right away, thinking. She could just say no and leave it at that, but if she'd learned anything from several months of frequent appointments and physical therapy, it's that you should never try to lie to your doctor about your pain. For one, you only hurt yourself even more. Younger, dumber Ellie thought she could just brush off both the chronic and phantom aches at first and power through it without outside help. Lessons were learned the hard way back then.

And for two, doctors always seemed to just know.

And she had a feeling that policy also applied to those of the extraterrestrial variety.

"Sometimes," she finally answered. "But I have ways of taking care of it."

"Such as?"

Ellie peered at him with slight suspicion, a part of her wondering why he even wanted to know. Perhaps he was merely curious from a clinical standpoint?

"Well, um—medication, mostly. Painkillers, stuff like that," she said while mentally bracketing a list of other forms of treatment she most frequently used. "Ice packs help too, sometimes. Massaging the residue area. Lotions and gels. Eating the right food. Lots of water. Breathing exercises. And—you know, plenty of rest."

You ain't passin' that last checkmark and you know it, Ells, came the voice again, which she palpably ignored.

"There's a bunch of other stuff I can't remember off the top of my head, or have access to on the spot, but those things help best for me."

Ratchet merely nodded once in reply, remaining quiet, though his expression was easily readable then—scrutinizing, assessing. Like he was carefully considering something she couldn't uncover unless he outwardly verbalized it.

"You know," he started falteringly, "this silo wasn't completely cleaned out by its previous tenants before it was passed down to us. It's possible that there are still some supplies of what you said you need stored somewhere here—perhaps in the same place where we had the gurney and intravenous drip on hand for Agent Fowler. You are free to rummage through whatever is left and determine what's sufficient for you." He gestured to the platform above them, where the liaison in question was currently recovering from the previous day's events.

"And I may not be well-versed in human biology, but…as for whatever else you need…" he continued, and Ellie was astounded by the unsure stiffness of his entire demeanor, absentmindedly scratching the side of his armor-plated head, "…just let me know, and I will…endeavor to provide it for you as long as you're here."

For the second time during their conversation, Ellie was rendered speechless.

As shocked as she was by the strange turn in Ratchet's attitude towards her, however, there was something familiar about it that she couldn't quite shake. Then it hit her: her grandmother was basically the exact same way. Isla often (read: always) came off as cold and rough, but when you get down to it, that was just her way of showing how much she cared. Because she didn't really know any other way. It took Ellie a while to get used to the treatment—to start to see the signs and readings of when Isla said or did something that came across as harsh, but ended up being for her own good.

Ellie had to learn to get used to it. Isla was all she had left, after all.

She wouldn't have preferred to have to deal with another person with a similar disposition outside of her home—let alone one much, much bigger than her. But people are the way that they are, and sometimes you just have to take them as is.

Besides, Ellie had somehow managed to erode a little bit of Isla's temperamental walls over the years. Who's to say she couldn't pull it off again? It seemed to already to be working—for the moment.

Coming out of her reveries, Ellie's lips curled up into a knowing—and borderline smug—smile.

"That's nice of you, Ratchet, but I've been taking care of myself for a while now. You don't have to worry about me."

Ratchet bristled suddenly, as if caught doing something he shouldn't have, sputtering a few unintelligible words. Then his facial features hardened, any trace of lenient concern for her wiped away as he glared at her. "I am not worried! I just want to know what methods were best so I won't have to deal with you whining because you overexerted yourself!"

"Sure."

"It's as I said, I don't need you getting hurt when it could be easily preventable!"

"Uh huh." She just kept nodding along, unconvinced.

He let out a low, aggravated growl as he leaned toward her and pointed a scolding finger, which took her by surprise.

"I mean it. I'd rather be prepared for the next time you decide to go do something too reckless for even the non-disabled. For Primus' sake, you went off gallivanting all over the Nemesis on a whim yesterday!"

"I—what?" Her expression faltered. She only understood some of that last part, but it was still fairly obvious of what he was referring to. "I didn't—I mean, I wasn't trying to do—"

"Zip-ehp-ehp!" He made a zipping motion across his mouth along with the cutting sound he made to silence her. "I don't want to hear it. From now on, you let me know when you are in need of care and pain relief. I already have enough stubborn patients around here as is—I don't need another added. Understand?"

For what felt like a long time, all Ellie did was give him a chastened look. He did not just shush me like some out-of-touch grandpa! But then the tension in her face lessoned as she took in the true implications of his words, in spite of the outward bite to them. Wait, so I'm one of his patients now or something?

"I said, do you understand?" Ratchet demanded severely when she took too long to answer.

Snapping herself out of her train of thought, she schooled her expression and said bluntly, "Fine."

More or less satisfied with her answer, he gave a sharp nod as if to say, 'that's what I thought,' and the conversation ended there. Ratchet began to place his tools somewhere close nearby, taking a break from his current project. Ellie watched him as he stood up, preparing to head back to the main computer. She sank a little where she sat, exhaling heavily. That went…not horrible, but still just draining enough to leave her feeling grateful that it was over with.

He really was like a giant robot version of Isla. Curmudgeon old timer must be a universal trait, regardless of species. Ellie just hoped that he wasn't going to suddenly develop a Scottish accent.

Or worse...if those two were ever to meet…

"Dèan tròcair air m'anam bàsmhor," she whispered with a shudder. (Have mercy on my mortal soul)

"What was that?" Ratchet stopped to frown over his shoulder at her.

She stiffened. "Nothing," she said before quickly looking away, pressing her lips together. She heard him release another sound of annoyance before he continued his trek toward the main computers, where Optimus was.

Speaking of the Autobot leader, when she dared a glance in his general direction, she noticed that his head was angled ever so slightly toward her—just enough where she could've possibly been in his peripheral vision—only for him to subtly turn his head back to fully face the monitor once her eyes landed on him.

All she could do was sigh.

She picked up her book to pick up where she'd left off. In the background, she could distantly hear Optimus and Ratchet speaking quietly to one another. She tried not to pick up on what they were saying on the off-chance they were talking about her; she didn't want to know.

Hardly a minute later, though, a new sound grabbed her attention: lighter than most but still altogether resounding footsteps approaching from the opposite direction of the main area. Ellie raised her head in time to see Arcee walking into the room from the back hallway. Ellie's eyebrows rose in surprise. She didn't think anyone else would be at base; she'd have thought that Arcee would be out with Jack—

Oh.

Right.

The reminder of what had happened with Jack the night before brought back a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Not really out of guilt, per se. She still stood by her decision and opinions of his argument against her. Even so, she didn't like how things ended off between her and him.

And apparently, neither did Arcee, based on her entire demeanor. The blue Autobot's gaze was cast downward, metal lips pulled down into a troubled frown as she walked slowly and with a sullen air, like she was moving mostly on autopilot, her mind elsewhere.

Seeing Arcee in such a state—especially after bearing witness to her skills in intense combat—was bewildering. At the same time, though, it was also kind of reassuring. She seemed so…human? Probably not the best way to describe a giant alien robot, but she did look that way. More—approachable, somehow.

As Arcee drew closer, still lost in her own thoughts, Ellie bit her lower lip, struggling to come to a decision. She really shouldn't bother Arcee if she was like this. The Autobot likely wanted to be alone, to fully process all that had happened in her own time.

Ah, screw it. Going three for three.

"Hey, Arcee," Ellie greeted.

Arcee's striking blue eyes brightened as she was pulled out of her musings, her head snapping up toward Ellie in surprise as she stopped short in front of the girl.

"Oh. Hey, kid," Arcee finally said after a tense silence between them.

Ellie could excuse the slight pause before Arcee said kid, giving away that she hadn't quite gotten around to remembering Ellie's name yet. She had a lot going on.

"Is—um…" Ellie started haltingly, unsure how to properly come about the subject, "Is everything…okay?"

Arcee blinked once. Then, her frown returning, she said tersely, "Yes."

Ellie's shoulders sagged a little, disappointed but not all that surprised by the flippant, defensive response she received. Not sure why I expected more than that.

"Okay," she said in a small voice.

Arcee started to walk away, but she only made it a couple of steps before she suddenly stopped, her posture going still. Ellie stared curiously as Arcee stood there for a moment, looking like she was thinking hard about something. Then she backtracked to where she was previously stood in front of the girl.

"You…you know Jack pretty well, don't you?" Arcee asked with a hint of caution.

Ellie processed the question for a moment before answering, "Kind of, but not a whole lot, to be honest."

Arcee's brow quirked. "What do you mean?"

She scratched the back of her neck. "Well, I just moved to Jasper last week, and only met Jack shortly before I met you and the rest of the 'Bots. So really, if we're basing which one of us knows him better on how much time we've spent with him, technically you know him better than I do at this point."

Arcee looked away, apparently unsure what to think about that.

"Why do you ask?" Ellie dared to question, though she had a pretty good idea.

Arcee's eyes flashed back to her, her base defensive manner taking over for the briefest second before she reined it in. "No real reason. Just…" she crossed her arms over her chest with a sigh, "…I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm actually starting to miss him."

Ellie perked up a little, smiling gently. "Yeah? Me too."

She was being truthful then. Even if Jack never wanted to have anything to do with the Autobots again, she still wanted them to be friends—or at least on good terms when they ran into each other at school or anywhere else. He was one of the first few people in Jasper who was nice to her—who talked back to Vince for her, even. That was a hard thing to forget.

Arcee looked like she was beginning to smile back at her, but something stopped her. Her gaze cast downward, her grip on her arms visibly tightening. It was brief, but her expression twisted into something that Ellie could only recognize as grief-stricken before it was promptly suppressed, making way for a more removed and distant demeanor.

"It's for the best that he left, though. At least now I don't have to constantly worry for his safety." Arcee said it so listlessly, like she didn't know whether she was trying to convince Ellie or herself. Then, quietly, she added, "I already lost one partner this week."

Ellie's eyes widened, lips parting slightly as she took in Arcee's words, her body going rigid. It didn't take much deduction skills to figure out who Arcee was talking about, remembering her first day at the base. But now, with the new information Arcee had given her—along with recalling just how devastated Arcee was after the energon mine incident, how nearly destroyed she looked—the realization still came as a heavy blow to Ellie, ice flooding her veins.

Somehow, suddenly, this conversation became too familiar for comfort.

When she found her voice again, she asked weakly, "Cliffjumper was your partner?"

Arcee shook her head with a smirk that had absolutely no trace of humor behind it at all, saying with a somewhat bitter undertone, "Forget about it, kid. I don't exactly expect you to understand."

That was the problem, though, wasn't it?

Ellie swallowed thickly through the lump that began to form in her throat before taking in a shaky breath, blinking rapidly.

Easy. Keep it together, Ellie.

She discreetly cleared her throat before she managed to utter out, "Yeah…right."

The silence between them weighed down heavily, neither looking at one another during that time. Ellie stared down at her lap, her fingers tapping against her thighs, her mind racing. She took a few moments to recollect, leveling her breathing pattern in the process.

"You know…the thing about Jack…" Ellie spoke up again, looking up at Arcee, who regarded her expectantly yet reservedly. "The first time I ever met him, he defended me against a bully. He didn't even know me, but he stepped right in anyway. And when we were on the warship yesterday, all Jack could think about was trying to keep me, Raf, and Miko safe the whole time."

The firmness of Arcee's expression slowly ebbed away as Ellie talked. The girl then smiled crookedly up at her.

"Yeah, Jack can be kind of…awkward at times. And he thinks just because he's older he can tell me what to do, and he tries to act more grown-up than he actually is."

Arcee's lips inched upwards as she let out a short chuckle. "Tell me about it," she said wryly. "You should've seen him when we first met. And don't even get me started about his mom."

Ellie nodded in agreement (though not really for the comment about Jack's mother; she'd never met the woman), before she continued her point, "But he's still a good friend who actually cares—who will risk anything for you, and will be there for you no matter what. Until recently, there weren't a whole lot of people I could say that about. And honestly…" she looked up at Arcee with a more genuine smile, "…that's the kind of person I'd be glad to have in my corner."

For some time, Arcee did not reply, staring with a blank, unreadable expression. She looked down at the floor in front of her contemplatively, then back to Ellie. Her face was suddenly set with determination.

"Thanks, kid."

Ellie's eyebrows knit together quizzically. "For what?"

"Just thanks."

With that, Arcee walked off, her pace brisk and with a sense of purpose. She only stopped once before Optimus to say, "Permission to go on patrol."

Optimus hardly got the word, "Granted," out of his mouth before Arcee strode past him, taking a couple of running steps before transforming into her motorcycle form and speeding out of the base.

The two remaining Autobots wordlessly watched Arcee disappear through the tunnel. Then, eerily simultaneously, they turned to look back at Ellie. She tensed, then buried her face back into her book. She rested her head in her hand with a sigh. The conversation with Ratchet was more than enough for her, but she had surprised herself with Arcee. She was unsure if it was a pleasant surprise, going by the way Arcee had left right after speaking with her. Either way, she felt socially exhausted, and it was barely midmorning—and Miko hadn't even arrived yet either.

If this kept up throughout the rest of her time at base, she was going to need about three to five business days to recover for every time it happened.

A few minutes later, the sound of thundering, but now familiar footsteps approaching pulled her gaze up again. She felt some slight relief that it was only Optimus. A quick glance past him showed that Ratchet had retaken his position in front of the main computer system.

"How's the search going?" she asked the Autobot leader by the time he was in front of her, kneeling down so that he was closer to her.

"Gradually," he answered. "After widening our search parameters, we were able to pick up a high energy frequency that could only come from Megatron's space bridge. What's left to do now is to narrow down its exact position."

"That's good."

"Indeed. With Ratchet's skills, it shouldn't be long now."

"Yeah…" Speaking of the Autobot medic, Ellie's eyes flicked over to him in a sidelong glance for a split second to make sure he wasn't listening, before leaning closer to Optimus and lowering her voice slightly. "I get what you mean about Ratchet now, by the way."

Optimus gave her a look that didn't quite say, 'I told you so,' but it did give off a bit of an all-knowing vibe—just subtle enough to where Ellie wasn't sure if it was intentional or not. "I take it that it went well enough, though?"

"I guess so. At least he's actually talking to me like a regular person—even if it is to lecture me mostly."

"Then you have made excellent progress," he assured her. "Anyone with lesser tact would've met the wrath of his wrench by the end of it."

"What? For real?" Ellie asked with slight alarm. Oh God, he was even holding a wrench when he was talking to me at one point.

He nodded. "And if it puts you more at ease...even I am not exempt from his temper at times, especially when I return injured from a battle."

Ellie paused, thinking. "That does help, actually." Then her face set more seriously. "But please try not to come back injured all the same."

His head angled toward her, observant. They both knew that was a tall order of a request, considering they were fighting in a war, but nonetheless, he vowed to her solemnly, "I will try."

She nodded, satisfied.

Optimus regarded her searchingly for another moment before speaking up again, "May I ask what that was about with Arcee earlier?"

"Oh. Um…" she looked away uncertainly, then back to him, "She probably doesn't want me telling, but she misses Jack."

That was all she was going to say on the matter—she didn't want to bring up the topic of Cliffjumper if it affected him just as much as it did Arcee—but evidently, it was enough. Optimus's optics brightened slightly with recognition. He turned his head to stare at the exit tunnel with that knowing look again—like he had figured something out that she hadn't yet.

"Ah, I see…" he said with a somewhat wistful air. He turned back to her, his face softening. "I do not blame her. If you were to leave, I'd share the same sentiments, as I am sure Bulkhead and Bumblebee would for Miko and Raf."

Ellie bit back a smile, trying to keep it from spreading wider into the more bashful category.

Thankfully, Optimus didn't say anything further on the matter, instead directing his attention toward the book in her hands. "You like to read?" he asked, his tone lighter.

She nodded. "Whenever I can."

It may have been her imagination, but it looked like he himself was trying to fight down a smile too. He bent closer. "And what are you reading right now?"

Ellie's grip on her book tightened a little as she ducked her head, having almost dreaded the question. "Oh—you probably wouldn't like it. It's fictional and…old, by today's standards," she answered diffidently, recalling times in the past when she was teased by previous peers for reading books that weren't considered "modern enough." The same could be said for her music taste as well sometimes.

Then she nearly jumped when a single yet large metal finger appeared under her chin, gently tilting it back up to meet his encouraging gaze.

"Try me."

She blinked, caught off guard by the genuineness of his interest. Then, with a small smile, she began to explain to him what she was reading so far. She tried to be as concise as possible at first, not wanting to sound like she was rambling, only for Optimus to politely ask for more details, and then would listen intently, hanging onto every word she said. She felt that he was taking a quiet amusement, but also fascination, in the fact that she happened to be reading about a group of intrepid humans finding a way to get to space, while they themselves were searching for a piece of technology that could send them anywhere in space as well.

It was the most she had talked to someone outside her inner circle (which, to be honest, consisted only of Isla until recently) in a long time about an interest of hers. And it was just…so easy with him. She didn't know why, but it was. She liked it.

She hoped that it stayed that way.

That was how they spent the rest of the morning, until eventually Bulkhead and Bumblebee arrived at base with Miko and Raf in tow.

"What's up, blondie!" Miko greeted Ellie cheerily after exiting Bulkhead, the green Autobot changing into his bipedal form.

Ellie merely waved with a welcoming smile in response.

Meanwhile, Bumblebee let Raf climb onto his awaiting hand after transforming, picking the boy up and letting him settle onto his shoulder. Bumblebee gave Raf a questioning chirp, ensuring he was safely situated, in which the boy replied with a grin, "I'm good, Bee. Thanks."

Ellie felt her heart skip a beat at the sight; it was the cutest thing she's ever seen.

The four newcomers joined Optimus and Ellie. Bulkhead was the one to ask what the current situation was, and Optimus in turn explained about Megatron's plan to invade earth with Cybertron's dead through a space bridge.

"More zombie 'Cons?!" Miko exclaimed once he was finished. She looked like she didn't know whether to be excited about that news or terrified.

"A whole planet of them?" Raf squeaked, finding nothing good about it at all.

Bumblebee buzzed something to him, and Raf nodded in in his own way of understanding him, relaxing a little.

"Man, that'd be so cool if the world wasn't in danger," Miko grumbled. "Seeing the walking dead, you know, actually walking around."

"Like those zombie-themed marathon runs?" Ellie commented.

Miko beamed at her. "Yeah! Like that, but with robots!"

Ellie made a doubtful face.

"Hopefully, it will not come to that, as long as we prevent Megatron from using the space bridge," Optimus assured them all.

Then, as if on cue, the main computer emitted an alerting beep.

"Optimus!" Ratchet called. "I have finally pinpointed the location of Megatron's space bridge."

Upon hearing this new development, everyone went and gathered around the Autobot medic, studying the layout of the space bridge on the screen, which looked like how Ellie initially imagined it: a much bigger ground bridge.

"Unfortunately," Ratchet continued, his voice tinted with disappointment, "it is stationed high in Earth's orbit."

"Out of our reach," Optimus said gravely.

Ellie frowned. Sometimes she hated being right. And they were so close.

"Okay, so you guys don't fly," Miko spoke up, "but can't you guys just ground bridge there?"

Ratchet sighed at the question. "The ground bridge has limited range," he stressed to her. "Stretched all the way into orbit, its vortex could snap and scatter us to the stars."

Bulkhead winced. "Yeah, not the thrilling joy ride you'd think it is."

Miko, along with the rest of the humans present, were rightfully astonished by this.

Then Optimus declared to his team in a now authoritative voice, a hand clenching into a fist, "Since Megatron is likely already in transit, I'm afraid that we must take that risk. Reaching the space bridge first is our only option."

Ellie looked up at him, unbridled worry shooting through her system. Suddenly the weight of the entire situation felt all too real to her. Even if they did make it through the ground bridge without 'scattering to the stars' as Ratchet put it, they'd still have to deal with Megatron and his army of Decepticons. And that wasn't if a planet-wide horde of the undead didn't enter into the mix.

Ellie lowered her gaze, pressing her lips together. It wasn't fair, not when she was just starting to feel like she was finally fitting in with people— was finally connecting with someone who actually seemed to reciprocate wants of friendship.

Then she frowned, shaking her head. No, it wouldn't do to think that way. If the Autobots had lasted this long against greater odds as their history implied, then she had to have faith that they'd ultimately return from this quest.

She hoped so.

She was abruptly pulled out of her thoughts by the light honking of a horn from down the tunnel. Everyone looked over to see Arcee in her motorcycle mode pulling in, skidding to a stop before them.

Only now she had a familiar rider with her.

Jack Darby dismounted from Arcee and took off his helmet, shaking his dark hair out of his eyes. He smiled up at them somewhat nervously. "Hey! Guess who's back."

Raf and Miko welcomed him back happily, Miko saying, "See? Told ya you'd wanna come back!" Meanwhile Ellie, surprised but glad to see the older boy again, only nodded at him with a smile.

Sadly, the reunion didn't last very long.

"Autobots, prepare for departure," Optimus announced to his team.

Jack's smile melted, while Arcee shifted into bipedal mode next to him. "Where to?" she asked

"Space," Ellie answered.

"The final frontier," Miko added in a whimsical voice.

"Wha—space?" Jack stammered, looking between Arcee and the rest of the Autobots. "I—I thought you didn't have any way of getting there."

"They don't," Raf replied as Bumblebee gently lowered him to the floor next to Ellie and Miko. "Not really."

Jack seemed to have as much misgivings about the entire idea as Ellie did, but they all knew of what had to be done in the end, in order to save planet Earth. And so, with an air of reluctance and some sadness, the four children faced their respected Autobot guardians, giving their own farewells and best wishes of luck, while Ratchet set the coordinates and activated the ground bridge.

Ellie stood in front of Optimus Prime, having to crane her head back some to properly look at him, and he looked back at her.

"Ellie."

"Optimus."

Her hand twitched, lifting up an inch or so towards him, but she quickly lowered it back to her side and curled it into a fist, thinking better of it. She kept her posture straight, hoping that her overall anxiety regarding the situation would go unnoticed.

It didn't. Of course it didn't. Optimus regarded her considerably for a mere moment. Then, like earlier, he lowered himself to one knee before her, one arm resting over his bent knee. He extended his other hand down toward her in offering. She blinked once at it. Then, slowly, tentatively, she uncurled her hand and reached out, her hand lining up with his, palm against palm.

She'd never get over the size comparison between them.

For a moment, neither spoke, unsure of what to say before parting. Optimus's mouth formed into a thin line for a second in deep thought, glancing away, before his eyes sharpened back into focus and onto her. Finally, he broke the tense silence between them.

"It has been a privilege to have met you."

Ellie tilted her head slightly. "You say that like you're not coming back. How about 'see you soon' instead? I'm pretty sure it's all going to work out fine." She paused, then managed a small smile up at him. "You did promise, after all."

It was fleeting—one of those "blink and you'll miss it" moments—but one corner of Optimus's metal lips twitched up at her words.

"It is reassuring to know that you have such faith in us, Ellie," he said.

Ellie took in his words before her smile faded and she dropped her gaze. She bit her lip with confliction. Then, looking back up at him, she suddenly blurted out, "Elinor."

Now it was Optimus's turn to tilt his head, eyes lighting with puzzlement.

"That's my name—my real name, I mean. It's Elinor. You can call me that if you want. I'm fine with either."

Optimus simply stared at her, his features slowly softening with each second. Then he replied, his voice warm and reassuring, "Duly noted. I shall return…Elinor."

Her smile widened.

"Optimus!" Ratchet called sharply from behind the Autobot leader, getting both their attention. He looked between the two of them once before settling onto Optimus with a warning scowl. "If you leave me stranded on a planet teeming with humans, I will never forgive you."

Ellie had to force down a snort. The words came out harsh, but the look Ratchet had sent another message behind it: Come back safe.

Giving her one last look of goodbye, Optimus slowly retracted his hand from hers and rose to his full height. "Until we meet again, old friend," he told Ratchet. Then, with a snap of his battle mask covering his face, he turned toward the ground bridge portal, which seemed to swirl more erratically than previous times.

"Autobots…roll out!"

With that command, he, Arcee, Bulkhead, and Bumblebee transformed into their vehicular modes.

Ellie, along with Jack, Miko, and Raf, stood by Ratchet and watched as their Autobot friends drove off with the roar of their engines, taking off and disappearing into the vortex in a flash of light. Into battle.

Hopefully not for the last time.

---

A/N

-Ratchet: "Not that I care or anything but if there's anything you need let me know and I'll get it for you. But don't read into it I still think you're a nuisance!"

-Ellie and everyone else: *Presses X to doubt*

-Former librarian Optimus Prime when he finds out his charge is bookish: *internal gasp* Brethren!

Hoooo boy, did this one really get away from me. The longest chapter I've ever written so far, and the main plot doesn't even come in until like, the very last second.

That's fine with me, though. I want this story to be more character-driven than plot driven. Its basis is, and always has been: "Community will find you and that is a threat!"

*does Ben Wyatt pose from that one Parks and Rec meme* "It's about the bonding between unlikely people."

Oh and also! I started cross-posting this story on to AO3! So if that's a site you like to read from too, check it out!