5. The Awakening

A dim sense of awareness was all that Allison felt at first; a black sense of nothingness slowly giving way as light forced its way through her eyelids. Even before her brain caught up with her consciousness, the second thing that pushed its way through was the sharp pain behind her eyes. Newfound light brought forward the intense headache that was ringing between her ears as her vision swam into focus and her head cleared enough to form a coherent thought.

Agony in fact, was what she was feeling as she blinked away the remnants of static in her vision. Finally, Allison became aware of her own breathing, the action unconscious as she tried to take stock of where she was. Opening her eyes fully was difficult, the persistent throb only allowing them to open a crack. It was enough to get a dim sense of the physical state of her body: she was laying on her side, cheek pressed against something barely softer than a pile of folded dishrags. Finding this a little bit alarming and not at all where she knew she was supposed to be, her next task was to get her body to move enough in order to sit up.

That proved to be more difficult than she thought, considering she only managed to get her fingers to twitch slightly. Her entire body felt like it was full of cement, completely unwilling to respond to her commands like all of the energy had been drained from her. It suddenly became immensely tempting to simply close her eyes, but why was she so tired?

Slowly, and with persistence, her body became more responsive in increments, as Allison finally managed to move her arms that were laying askew in front of her—where she was laying was still a mystery. Her still bleary vision wasn't a huge help, because she was only able to make out what appeared to be the hunched form of something very large, and white somewhere in front of her.

Suddenly, with great alarm, the memory of what had happened before everything was a fog gave her the needed boost of adrenaline to gasp and flail weakly onto her other side. Allison remembered with shocking clarity speaking to… Wheeljack before something had happened causing her to black out. The problem was, she had no idea what that was, having only the faintest memory of something sharp and painful passing through her body like an unpleasant jolt of electricity. Had… Wheeljack done something to her?

A soft whimper escaped her throat as this possibility crossed her mind, wondering for the first time if she was in actual danger as she huffed weakly against whatever her head was resting on. Her heart rate increased, not only from the sudden panic brought about by her situation and the persistent inability to move, but by the sudden, searing pain in her skull from where she'd landed when shifting to her other side. Reflexively, her body jolted, successfully lifting her up enough so that she could flop back into her previous position and away from that pain, hands pressed flat against the cold surface.

"Welcome back." The grunt from the other end of the room left her with no time to consider the reason why she was laying on metal, or the aforementioned pile of dishrags as it registered that someone was speaking to her. Someone… unfamiliar. It didn't sound like Wheeljack, which meant...

Managing to look up in the direction of the voice proved to be a mistake, as the blurry white mass that it had presumably originated from had grown in size. It wasn't Wheeljack, but someone else, which posed a number of frightening possibilities that Allison was only starting to consider as she gingerly pawed at the source of pain on the back of her head. She'd given up on trying to flee, knowing that her body was still only marginally responsive to any attempt to move, so she wouldn't get very far. At least, not before she was stopped by whoever was now hovering above her.

"Don't touch that!" The voice barked, but Allison ignored it, needing to know why the back of her head felt funny. She hissed as her fingers passed over what felt like the grooves of wire on her scalp, pain spiking as she felt split, swollen skin. Someone had stitched her head.

That would explain the headache, she thought. A sense of revulsion suddenly washed over her as the sickening thought passed through her mind as to their cause. Were the stitches in aid of some physical injury, or something more malicious?

He better not have put anything inside her head.

When it became apparent she wasn't going to listen to the second voice's persistent request, they apparently lost whatever patience they had as something hard and warm circled her arm. Rather than yank her hand away from her head, Allison was surprised with how slowly and deliberately she was pulled, as if they were taking great care not to hurt her. She could feel the strength behind it, regardless of whether or not it was intentional, so fighting back seemed like it would be incredibly stupid and pointless.

"I said, don't touch it." The voice repeated, as Allison finally managed to shift her body back onto her side so that she could actually see what was talking to her. It was indeed a white shape, but with her vision more clear it became obvious that her initial impression had been correct. This white, gray and red mass of… robot was definitely not Wheeljack. It was someone else.

"There's more of you," Allison deadpanned, letting her head fall back onto the surface she was laying on, silently wishing unconsciousness would take her again. She really didn't think she had the strength to endure this right now. Whoever it was had at least let her arm go, but now they were watching her carefully.

Truthfully it made Allison uncomfortable, especially from her relatively disadvantaged position of laying vulnerable and weak in front of someone so disproportionately large. What made her even more uncomfortable was how surprisingly defined this robot's face was compared to Wheeljack's. This one had a fairly humanoid face with all the features one would associate with it, fashioned by an intricate mesh of metal panels that made up the different structures: a mouth, chin, jawline, cheek structure, eye sockets and the planes of what even looked like a nose. There was a very obvious red crest that followed the line of what would normally be a brow, meeting in between the eyes in a sharp v-shape. This robot shared the same piercing blue glow in the eyes as Wheeljack, but there was a distinct otherness within them that told Allison that this was a wholly different individual glowering at her.

"Of course there's more of us. What, you think a Cybertronian scientist just sprouted from the ground and said to itself, 'I feel like talking to a human child today'?" Watching them talk was an experience in itself because it was so… uncanny, yet comfortably familiar at the same time. While Wheeljack more than made up for his lack of mouth with how expressive the rest of his face was—not to mention the fact that he lit up like a Christmas tree whenever he spoke—she still assumed he had some sort of a mouth under what appeared to be a mask. Seeing something so unmistakably human on something otherwise so alien was still unnerving.

Allison really didn't know how she was supposed to respond, for a second not really comprehending what it—he had said, because the sarcasm was so unexpected. She thought Wheeljack had been verbally feisty with her during their two encounters thus far, but this was on another level of combative she wasn't sure what to do with. The only way she could describe it was exasperated annoyance, and Allison didn't know what she'd done to deserve it. Wasn't she the victim here?

"Are you one of Wheeljack's friends?" She muttered, her voice sounding painfully hoarse in her throat and she hated how weak it made her sound. What a stupid question to ask, but Allison really didn't know how else to fill the unbearable silence. The fact that Wheeljack was nowhere to be seen, despite her uncertainties to his intent, was frightening in of itself, because at least he was familiar. What the hell had he done to her?

"Not today." There was a pause. "So you do know his name. I see your memory is intact, but yes, Wheeljack and I go back a long—" The robot halted mid-talk and straightened his back, the dappled red and white chest portion of his body seeming to puff out with indignation as if the metal panels were actually swelling. She'd seen Wheeljack do the same earlier, so it hadn't been a visual illusion after all. "—Why am I telling you all this? By the All Spark, it's spreading."

Allison didn't know what an allspark was, nor did she care. "What did he do to me?" Verbalizing it out loud was a special kind of terrifying that she wasn't prepared for. The idea that Wheeljack had intentionally hurt her and abducted her was… a disturbing revelation that made Allison really wonder if he had in fact not harmed her in the past because she'd been a child…

The strange robot's expression changed, the eyes widening like a twitch as the light within flickered—surprise —and the line of his mouth thinned as if he was about to respond before he was stopped.

"You're online!" The sudden exclamation from somewhere off in a distant part of the room made a pulse of pain spike through Allison's head, the volume far louder than she was prepared to hear with the pounding beneath her skull. The robot stranger above her grimaced—actually grimaced—before whirling around, one massive arm waving energetically in the direction of the voice's source. Allison could just make out an odd red and white pattern on the robot's forearm, not unlike what a very erratic heartbeat would look like, and that's when it dawned on her that this robot was some kind of doctor.

A robot doctor. Why not.

"Wheeljack, keep it down, unless you want everyone in the Ark to hear you—"

"They're sparring right now, may as well be deaf," the unbothered, dismissive reply preceded the emergence of a second figure into Allison's line of sight, this one unfortunately very familiar to her, and also questionably alarming in her current state. Wheeljack almost blipped into place next to the second robot, his steps painfully loud and actually physical as Allison felt the surface she was laying on shake from the impact of each footfall. "Ratchet, she looks sick." The shift in his tone of voice was almost immediate, and somehow insulting in the way he sounded disappointed; judgmental even. Wheeljack was looking between her and this other robot who had his own eyes firmly planted on him. Allison wasn't sure how she knew this, but he looked like he wanted to kill him. "I don't think humans are supposed to look like… that."

Whatever Wheeljack meant by such an unnervingly blunt observation seemed to knock this Ratchet out of his annoyed trance because he looked back down at her then. Allison now had two very large robots staring down at her, making her breath freeze in her chest. Wheeljack looked cautiously alarmed, while Ratchet seemed to be studying her with a silent focus that she found especially uncomfortable. His eyes were very focused, almost like he was completely lost to anything else. Something prickled at the back of her neck.

Reflexively Allison groaned, her head suddenly too heavy to hold up any longer as a throb of angry heat coursed through her, shooting down her spine making her go limp. The hard surface of whatever she was laying on, presumably a table of some kind, was cool against her temple. The sting of tears at the corners of her eyes intensified, and blinking fast she just barely managed to stem them before a single droplet slid down the bridge of her nose.

She was going to die, sobbing like a weakling. They'd done something to her, kidnapped her, and now they were going to experiment on her, leaving her in a tortured state just to see what would happen—

Allison felt the slightest impression of something large entering the space over her body before a cautious weight of something prodding at her neck caused her to flinch. Before she had time to open her eyes there was a click, followed immediately by a sudden sharp jolt of pain as something hit her skin. What she knew immediately to be an injection of some kind made fear cling at her insides, until an onslaught of calm passed over her body from head to toe as if she'd just been dipped in cooling water. All at once, the pain vanished, leaving behind only a hazy exhaustion and immense desire to sleep. She could have wept with relief, almost too grateful to be afraid of what it was.

"You hit your head when you fell down," Wheeljack's lowered voice floated down towards her where she lay panting, feeling absolutely pathetic.

"There was an unexpected reaction when you got near the energon cube. I've removed the energon from your body, but you may feel… unusual for a few days." Ratchet's voice lacked the strange twang of Wheeljack's words, accent neutral and every word more deliberate and focused; less lazy and haphazard. His overall tone was deeper when compared to Wheeljack's more wiry method of speech that made him sound like he was perpetually on the edge of panic.

What they were saying to her didn't make sense, and didn't match up with any memories of what had happened to put her in this position to begin with. She remembered… talking to Wheeljack, his affronted expression when she joked about his ears, then there being a loud noise before the glowing cube above—

—Oh…

Allison remembered trying to protect her face before there was pain, and an excruciating rush of something pass through her entire body and then nothing. She must have fallen and hit her head after losing consciousness.

And then Wheeljack brought her here, wherever here was.

"Why didn't you take me to a hospital?" Allison asked, her voice partially muffled from where her head was pressed against her arm. Wheeljack must have heard her, because he shifted uncomfortably.

"I thought about it, but I didn't think a human doc would know what to do with the energon in your body… so it seemed like bringing you here was the only option.." At this Ratchet made a noise that sounded unimpressed, almost like he was insulted.

"Only option ? You mean the only doctor with the skill required to save her?" Ratchet had squared off with Wheeljack who was doing his damndest to pretend he didn't notice.

"I helped." Wheeljack said, his eyes narrowing, but it was hard to tell if it was playful or not. Allison was getting a weird sense that the way they talked to each other with such casual malice was commonplace.

"Minimally. And I wouldn't have needed it had you not gotten her into this mess in the first place." Ratchet made a noise that sounded like a scoff, followed by an exhale. Did they breathe? Or was it just another emotional cue, Allison wondered. The shift on Ratchet's face made it apparent there was indeed a communication method in place because now his expression had softened from the hard glare he had been giving Wheeljack. It was almost like a sigh. "You're safe." The haunted look that followed made Allison realize what had just happened. It was like Ratchet was speaking before she had a chance to ask follow-up questions, anticipating what she might have been dreading in the precarious situation she found herself in. Obviously, she was at a massive disadvantage, completely vulnerable and exposed, and quite frankly would not have been able to stop them if there was nefarious intent. Ratchet was trying to reassure her that she had nothing to fear.

Allison wasn't sure if she was convinced, but she didn't have a choice but to believe them. She thought she should be grateful for the fact that despite their verbal sparring, these two creatures seemed… kind. Maybe she could put to rest all the uncertainties of whether or not her age played into her safety with them.

"Thank you… I guess…" She finally offered, and the grim line of Ratchet's mouth eased slightly. Wheeljack during all this had remained still as a stone. "...But what exactly is energon." This seemed to shock him out of whatever trance he'd fallen into, as he jumped at her question, causing Ratchet to snap his head in Wheeljack's general direction.

"It's an energy source. More powerful than you could possibly comprehend." Ratchet said, the declaration hanging in the air as if there was more to this energon that he wasn't quite willing to share with her yet, perhaps out of an abundance of caution.

Great, so that meant a mystery, alien power source had knocked her unconscious with no way of knowing what sort of long-term effects she may suffer. Right now, Allison was too tired to really think about what that meant, the more pressing of questions being how had Ratchet gotten this mystery substance out of her. She could barely wrap her mind around the basics of reality at the moment, so a treatise on the methodology for removing foreign, alien energy out of a human body was not really a discussion she wanted to get into.

"How long are you keeping me here?" It was really the only thing Allison could think to ask, fatigue starting to take its hold on her as she started to feel her eyes grow heavy again. The real world wasn't going to stop just because she was cloistered up in some sort of med-bay with a couple aliens. She had responsibilities to the machine of capitalism.

"...Keeping?" At first it almost seemed like Wheeljack didn't understand the question, until the lilt of his voice suggested that there was a deeper concern behind the inquiry. It occurred to Allison then that she hadn't considered her word choice carefully enough, and perhaps he had misunderstood her to mean what admittedly, she hadn't quite ruled out yet: was she a prisoner here, or a temporary guest?

"I mean, when can I go home?"

"You aren't going anywhere until I'm confident you won't drop dead at a second's notice—" Allison wasn't sure if Ratchet's answer was supposed to be helpful, and she wondered if he even cared about that, despite the fact that he appeared to falter before making a noise not unlike one would when clearing their throat. "—You aren't a prisoner here, if that's what you mean, but I would… prefer if you remain here until I can remove the sutures from your head. You sustained a concussion, which I would assume is obvious" He ground out the slightly more restrained addendum, as if being polite to her was a chore, gesturing with a wave of his hand in her general direction.

"Absolutely not," Allison hissed, suddenly alarmed. There was no way she was staying here for that long. It could take weeks for her injury to heal, just based on what she could feel of it with her fingers. There was no way in hell she was staying here with this rude, chaotic mess of a duo for that long, considering she highly doubted they were prepared in any way to host her. Food, water, bathing, and other general organic necessities had clearly not factored into their decision to keep her bedridden until a time they deemed appropriate. That didn't even touch on the fact that eventually she would get reported missing, would probably lose her job, which would have a domino effect on her entire life. Allison really didn't want to have that conversation with her father while being forced to move back home.

"You don't have a choice. I can't very well send you off to—"

"—Err, Ratchet, maybe we oughta at least discuss it."

There was a pregnant pause where both the robots stared at each other, and if Allison didn't know any better she could swear they were having a secret conversation that she couldn't hear; that wouldn't be at all surprising at this point, but that didn't make it any less annoying and frustrating if they were literally talking about her behind her back…

Allison tried to sit up, only managed to get her upper body up at an angle by bending at the waist, but her arms started to tremble violently from the effort of holding up her dead weight. She huffed tiredly, and this must have knocked some sort of sense back into the two above her because there was another heavy sigh, followed by a gust of warm air.

"If you agree to remain here at least until we know you haven't suffered any significant damage from the energon, then you may leave; perhaps in a day or two." Ratchet folded his arms across his chest, and the action was very human in what it conveyed. "But, there is one condition."

"Are you… are you serious?"

"You will need to remain in this room. There will be no exploring of the Ark. Technically, you are not even supposed to be here, so as far as the others are concerned you do not exist."

"There are… others?" At this point nothing was really going to surprise Allison, so the fact that there were even more of them outside of whatever room she was in didn't faze her.

"Uh… yeah… I wasn't really supposed to talk to you… definitely wasn't supposed to bring you here, but I kinda had limited options. Prime has a strict non-engagement rule." Wheeljack finally said, and he appeared to be shifting back-and-forth on both of his legs like an anxious child. If he was waiting for a response, Allison didn't really know what to say. She was being fed so much new information she was having a hard time keeping it straight: Energon, Prime, this place was something called an Ark...

Allison had about a million questions, but they were jumbled and unfocused. She was just tired, and wanted nothing more than to shut her eyes again, not caring how uncomfortable the surface she was lying on was. Maybe it was the concussion talking, her muddled, disjointed thoughts impacting her decision making capabilities, but all she could do was nod stiffly in agreement. Logically, there really was no telling what this energon had done to her body, so it was probably safer to at least hang around for a while to make sure. Clearly, they knew more about it than she did. Thank god she hadn't been scheduled to work the next few days, but if she was here any longer than that she was going to need to figure something out…

...Speaking of figuring things out…

"You guys do know I'm going to need certain… accommodations, right? Bathroom? Food? Water?" She managed to look up at them both in time to see them share a look, and she could have swore Ratchet was growling at Wheeljack. Clearly, they hadn't thought everything through.

"You're the inventor. You figure it out," Ratchet snarled, before turning to walk away and out of a massive double door that slid open automatically at his approach. The heavy metal groaned shut with a clang after Ratchet's retreating back, leaving Allison alone with Wheeljack. He glanced at her furtively, those strange glowing eyes darting between her and the empty corners of the room before he managed to look at her long enough for her to give him an expectant stare.

He was too quiet, for too long and Allison was starting to think that maybe he was broken, until finally he spoke. "Eh… do you… need anything now?" Wheeljack's words were suddenly wary and unsure, as if his previous exuberance had exited the room with Ratchet's retreat. It was such an odd question that she wasn't even sure how to answer at first until she realized what he was attempting to do.

"No. I just want to sleep…" Surprisingly, no other biological needs were making themselves known, but it was possible that whatever Ratchet had injected her with was overriding any other basic function of her body. Allison wasn't expecting any further response from Wheeljack as a result of this declaration, but instead of leaving he stood there. He was staring, silently, but from what she could glean off his face his expression was uncertain, like he didn't know what he was supposed to do with himself.

When she had been a child, she remembered a cautious, but bemused approach to their conversation. Wheeljack had clearly known he had been talking to someone who was very young and rather out of their depth, and had found some entertainment in humoring her. He had almost seemed to welcome it, until circumstance had forced him to retreat. Now, in this solitude decades later it was clear he had no idea how to communicate with her.

It could have been learned caution. A great deal of time had passed for Allison, but she had no measure of reference to know if it was the same for him. She wasn't that different, albeit injured, though it was possible to him the physical changes were enough to make her a new unknown and possibly even unpredictable—but, he'd still recognized her despite her no longer being the child he had met all those years ago. Wheeljack hadn't changed at all from her memory, at least not that she could immediately pick out. Maybe he wasn't as vibrantly white as she remembered, but for the most part he looked exactly the same: an ageless, giant robot, who now seemed more afraid of her than she was of him, because he still wasn't saying anything.

Without the violent, onslaught of emotion at seeing him again after so long, after running away from the reality of the memories she'd carried with her, Allison found she didn't know what to say either. She felt like that child again, staring up at a being that shouldn't exist, but this time instead of curiosity and elation, she felt… sad.

It could have been the alien painkillers talking, but she felt unsettled, confused, and… hurt. She felt hurt that she had been left to suffer, carrying the weight of knowledge and hope that a child should never have to, wondering if that friend she'd made would come back and save her from her misery. All the energy and time spent convincing herself it had been a child's brain coping with the grim realities of her home life had been an utter waste of time. It had been real. She had met Wheeljack, and she could have lived with the fact of simply knowing that it had truly happened even if he couldn't take her away. All she would have needed was a quick glimpse, or even a subtle message or hint, anything, and she could have been okay.

But, he hadn't owed her any of that, and Allison knew that being angry and insufferable because of unfair expectations not being met was an unreasonable response to someone who had no real obligation to her. She had fought hard to move on, and forget, and pretend that it had never happened and she'd made the whole thing up. It had worked; she was able to live her life and… manage okay, but it still somehow felt unfair.

Had he simply moved on too? It had probably been easier for him, to just forget and go about his business and not even give a human child a second thought. Surely, he had more important things to occupy his time. She remembered him talking about keeping his friends safe, a detail which she eventually convinced herself she'd made up to give Wheeljack more of a superhero persona. It wasn't hard to accept that they would be more important to him, even if they were as insufferable as Ratchet was. Except, Ratchet seemed to have known about her.

"I have a question," Allison eventually said, realizing all too late that she had said something incredibly similar to Wheeljack as a child. It didn't help that his face visibly reacted to her statement, clearly remembering it as well; she had asked him a great deal of questions that night, and he'd made a pointed effort to tease her about it at the time. He… remembered, and that somehow made her feel worse.

When Wheeljack didn't respond, Allison took that as her queue to continue.

"Ratchet said something about you talking to a human child," she continued, and at that Wheeljack finally looked away, looking somewhat dejected and ashamed. Why, Allison couldn't even begin to fathom. "He knows that we—"

"I was talkin' to him when you showed up. The first time." Wheeljack clarified, and despite the usual lilt of his words the statement held little emotion. It also clarified something that Allison had thought to be true, in that they had probably been talking to each other when they had zoned out earlier; a silent conversation through some kind of internal communication channel. She definitely remembered that Wheeljack hadn't been speaking to anyone verbally when she found him in the power station that night. Ratchet had known about her too, all this time. Had Wheeljack really been able to move on, as if nothing had happened? "—Listen… I ah, better go work on those accommodations for ya…" And now, Wheeljack was trying to gracelessly remove himself from the situation, as if he was trying to flee from her presence.

Allison was too tired to really be bothered by it anymore, and only managed a non committal nod which Wheeljack took as his queue to leave. She didn't know what prompted her then to begin to laugh, as if retreat was something hilarious. Despite the absurdity, and utter exhaustion continuously attempting to drag her body down like a dead weight, she sat there, chuckling to herself as if she was losing her mind.

This made Wheeljack stop and turn around suddenly, and it was shocking how quickly something of his size could move. The agility of something so large and potentially dangerous made Allison nervous, but it didn't stop the words from coming out of her mouth like the delirious ranting of a drunk.

"I waited for you, Wheeljack." Allison said, between pained gasps of inappropriately timed amusement. She just wanted to get it off her chest; for him to know. "My fault really, for expecting you to come back." Wheeljack didn't respond, though the glare of his eyes changed, dimming down so that their brightness was no longer like staring into oncoming headlights. Allison could have fooled herself into thinking that meant something.

"You waited?" His response was simple, and there was something beneath it with the way the edge of his voice shifted into a higher pitch, almost like he was scared. Maybe hearing his name finally come out of her mouth again made what was happening feel as real to him as it did to her.

"I was a kid. I didn't know any better. I just wanted something, so I waited, thinking maybe you would come back—" Allison stuttered, closing her eyes and catching herself just before drifting off as her heart seemed to throb in her chest. She hoped that wasn't dangerous. "I would have been… fine just to know you had been real."

Wheeljack shifted then, and he was looking around the room almost as if he believed her to be talking to someone else; there was absolutely no way this injured human was now babbling nonsense at him, but for some reason he stayed. His dimly lit eyes shifted back towards her eventually, but his slumped posture gave surprisingly enough away to tell her that she'd made him uncomfortable. So far, she'd managed to stir a number of emotions in him that should have been impossible.

"You wouldn't have been safe around me," he ground out, and the words almost sounded bitter, like they were coming from something implanted deep within his experience. "You would have only been in danger."

Allison nodded. "Decepticons," the word coming back to her from across the decades.

Wheeljack looked at her curiously. "You remembered."

"Honestly I didn't, until now." Allison gingerly touched the wound on her head. "They must really be something." She didn't know if Wheeljack was catching on to what she was saying, that if this is what could happen to her around the good guys, then she didn't even want to know…

"They chased us from our home. And if they found us they'd…" he trailed off, clearly not wanting to cause Allison any further worry, or perhaps deciding this wasn't the place for the discussion.

In that moment, while Allison laid on that table injured, the anger left her body almost as quickly as it had ignited. It left her feeling deflated, exhausted, and completely disoriented and confused, but also somewhat reassured. Wheeljack's voice was sincere. And she knew that he was probably just as unsure about how to go about interacting with her as she did with him. They were both creatures from across space. This was uncharted territory.

It helped a little to get some kind of closure. She hadn't just been some weird kid with an imaginary friend. That friend had come back, not necessarily to save her from her own crummy life, but their paths had crossed all the same.

Allison had a million new questions, but for now the resolution to this particular source of uncertainty and anxiety allowed her to curl up on the table and close her eyes. As she drifted off, she finally remembered what the symbol on Wheeljack's chest meant. Ratchet had one too, that she'd barely noticed during all the commotion. It had been there, signifying an identity that he had told her about all those years ago.

Autobot.