Chapter 22
Auri
She awakes slowly. Very slowly.
First, she becomes aware of being conscious. She is present somewhere. It's not an exact location that she can place. It's just somewhere quiet. She is lying down, curled up somewhere quiet. There are no loud sounds, only the very quiet stirrings of someone muffled by a thin wall. She senses the slightest vibration in her surroundings, a constant, steady slight vibration from far away. Somewhere.
She thinks she might sleep some more. She is comfortable, small aches aside. She can't place where the aches are from, but they aren't uncomfortable enough to be alarming. She is lying down, curled up on something soft. It's comfortable. The light is dim, almost non-existent. She hasn't opened her optics yet, but she can still tell that the light is dim, almost non-existent. Dim. Almost non-existent.
The air is on the cooler side, cool on her face, cool on her helm. The soft blanket keeps the rest of her warm. Everything is soft, quiet, muffled, no loud sounds, only the very quiet stirrings of someone… the light almost non-existent…
Her location still isn't a certainty in her processor. She has only adjectives: cool, dim, quiet. No certain nouns besides the blanket, some walls, and the faint, distant vibration.
Hesitantly, she decides to open her optics. Then, even more hesitantly, she opens them with a small blinking motion, and they flicker on, casting a soft blue light in the space.
The space is small, closet small, and there is a shelf above her. A thin horizontal line of light shows her were the door is, and a tiny vertical line of light shows her that there are two doors that close together, not one door. Besides the blue glow of her optics and the two lines of light from the doors, there is a third dim light source. Little glow in the dark stars and planets are stuck to or painted on the closet walls and the underside of the shelf above her.
She cannot decide if they are familiar or not. She thinks they should be. She rubs at the armor over her spark and decides that she'll probably know once she's fully awake. She's still pretty sleepy. Downright foggy, she muses. Foggy but hungry.
She could use some energon. Also a little company, though she can't place whom she'd like with. Just… someone.
Shifting, she sits up. The shelf above her is high enough that she's not in danger of bumping her helm on it, but it's close enough that she can reach up and touch it. She touches one star with a fingertip. Then she nudges one door open and peers out.
There is a short wall with a few shelves and cupboards. Across from it, the other short wall has a door. Across from her, there is a long wall with a computer and desk, and a big blue mech is sitting at the desk, working, moving a data-pad from a stack of data-pads. Not just any big blue mech, though-
"Papa-!" All eagerness now, she scrambles from her closet and her blankets and her stars. Papa turns and watches as she gets to her pedes. She feels almost unsteady on her pedes, but she dashes over to him to hide it. "I missed you!" she says, putting her arms around him.
"I missed you, too," Papa says, hugging her in return and then lifting her so she can sit on his lap and snuggle against his warm frame.
She sighs with contentment and rests her helm against his chest, softly closing her optics and listening to the gentle thrum of his spark pulse. That's all she needs, she thinks. Even if she can't place where they are, if her papa is here with her, then that's enough for her. Although…
"Is there energon?" she asks.
"Yes," Papa answers. He shifts, reaching for something, and she opens her optics to watch him take a small cube the other side of a stack of data-pads. He hands it to her, and she cups it in both hands as she thanks him.
Then she smiles up at him. "Is it fresh?" she teases. "It was behind quite a few data-pads, I saw."
His chuckle rumbles quietly in his chest and barely makes an audible sound. "Several years old," he answers back, also teasing.
She giggles and then she takes a sip. The energon washes over her tongue with a slightly unusual tang that she can't place. It's still good, though. "I suppose this will have to do," she says with pretend sigh, teasing some more. She takes another sip and still can't place the flavor. "I guess all the tin curls and copper candy aren't going to be the proper age either?" she asks lightly, both teasing and hinting. Papa is good at picking up hints.
He chuckles again and then pulls a drawer on his desk open. "The tin curls are flat," he replies, retrieving a box of perfectly curly tin curls and bright shiny copper candy. "The copper candy is green."
"Oh, dear," she giggles. She takes one of the copper candies and then thinks seriously for a moment. "Aged copper candies could be a real delicacy, though…" She gently squishes the soft metallic treat between her finger and thumb.
"Around here, they don't last long enough to age," Papa says, giving her belly a playful poke, making her giggle again.
"That's true," she agrees and then pops the candy into her mouth. It is good. In the moment and good. Vaguely, she wonders if she's missing something, but she has her papa and her energon and the tin curls and the candy and her sleeping place… That's all she needs. Right? She rubs the armor over her spark. That's all she needs. Right? Is there something else?
She needs a nap. That's it. She is comfortable, small aches aside, and she needs a nap.
She snuggles up against Papa again, trying to hand him the cube to save for later.
"No, you need to drink a little more energon," Papa says, gently nudging the cube toward her face.
She sighs. Of course, he's right. She drinks. She drinks a long sip, and the energon washes over her tongue with a slightly unusual tang that she still can't place. It's still good, though. She finishes off half of the cube.
"How's that?" she asks, holding it aloft for inspection.
"Good enough," Papa answers.
She snuggles up against him again, handing him the cube to save for later. He takes it and tucks it back among the data-pads. She closes her optics softly. The air is on the cooler side. The warmth of Papa's frame helps keep her warm, though, and everything is soft, quiet, muffled, no loud sounds, only the very quiet stirrings of Papa as he shifts his attention back to work…
She awakes slowly. Very slowly.
First, she becomes aware of being conscious. She is present somewhere. She is sitting, leaned up against something warm. There are no loud sounds, only the very quiet stirrings of someone nearby.
She thinks she might sleep some more. She is comfortable, small aches aside. She hasn't opened her optics yet. The air is on the cooler side, but she is leaned up against something warm… someone warm. Good spark pulse. It's her papa. Her location isn't a certainty in her processor, but that's okay. Listening to the gentle thrum of his spark pulse, she is content. That's all she needs, she thinks. Even if she can't place where they are, her papa is there, and that's enough for her. Although…
"Is there energon?" she asks.
"Yes," Papa answers.
She blinks her optics open and smiles up at him.
"Did you have a good nap?" he asks as he hands her a small halfway full energon.
"I did," she answers, cupping the energon cube in both hands. "You know what the best part was?"
"I do not," he answers.
She smiles secretively and then she takes a sip. The energon washes over her tongue with a slightly unusual tang that she can't place. It's still good, though. "The best part was waking up and finding my papa with me," she says.
He rubs her helm in a tender, gentle motion. "It's good having you here, too."
She drinks slowly, absently watching her papa work. It's good to be with him. The energon is good. The surroundings seem quiet and safe. She looks around. Quiet, safe, secure.
"You know…" she says a little while. She hesitates.
"What?" Papa asks.
"I can't place where we are," she admits.
"We're on the Decepticon warship, Nemesis," Papa answers.
"Oh, I see now." That explains the constant, steady slight vibration from far away that she'd noticed earlier. She's content with that. She'd wanted to be with her papa, and that's where she is now. "It's home?" she asks, wanting to be certain. She can't put her finger on anything for sure.
"It is," Papa answers.
It's good to have a home. She looks into her almost empty energon cube.
"I'm missing something…" she says after another while. She frowns slightly, trying to place what it is.
"You are missing some very bad memories," Papa says. "Militaristic Autobots captured you when you arrived on this planet. We got you back, but not before they did some things to you."
"Oh…" she says softly, unsettled by this. Autobots had generally been good and kind to her in her travels. They'd mainly been civilian and refugee bots, though. Not militaristic ones. "Bad things…?"
"Bad things," Papa said quietly. "You were having nightmares almost every night, so we discussed it, and I walled off the memories for you."
"That explains the fuzzy helm feeling," she realizes aloud.
"Yes." Papa rubs her helm gently. "It should wear off after a while as your process settles and reestablishes pathways around the blocked memories."
"Okay." She finishes off her energon. "Okay." That sounds good, at least. That much is good. And being back with her papa is good, too. It's the most good thing of all.
Papa holds his hand for the empty energon cube, and she gives it to him, watching as he places it back on the desk among the data-pads. Then she nibbles some tin curls and rubs at the armor over her spark, trying to remember if she's supposed to be doing something with the data-pads. Something about the data-pads calls to her. She watches them, still and inanimate though they are. She watches to see if they can jog her memory.
Nothing.
She shifts her attention to Papa's screen after a while.
"What are all those numbers?" she asks.
"Quarterly energon reports," Papa answers drily.
"Oh… Like…" She frowns a little, trying to make out some of the words. There's something familiar yet unfamiliar about them, or maybe it's the numbers.
"They aren't anything you need to concern yourself with," Papa says, moving a hand to give her helm a rub.
"Did… did I help you with them before…?" she asks. Maybe that's it. But she can't read this language. She frowns.
"No," Papa says. "You watched before. You never learned Kaonic, only Cy-Stan."
"Oh…" That's why the words don't make sense. They're in Kaonic. "Well, now that I'm here, can I learn?" Learning a new language seemed like a good thing, a thing she would enjoy. It felt right. It felt like home.
"Perhaps."
She waits for him to outline a potential plan for studying, but he doesn't. Then she wonders if he's going to say why she doesn't really need to learn Kaonic, but he doesn't.
"Well, I have to do something," she says presently. "Idleness isn't my style."
Papa looks at her, and even though his expression is hidden between his visor and his face armor, she sort of feels like he must be smiling at her.
"You may learn anything you please," he says, and she is content with that. She settles against him. She's drowsy now, too drowsy to ask about learning other things, but he offers some more ideas of things she can study in addition to Kaonic, talking on and on until she is deep in recharge.