Note: Mild mentions of possible abuse.
12. Recovery
The sudden stillness was stifling, the silence in the air surreal after having endured the sensory overload that was watching giant mechanical beings from space engage in a brutal fight. Allison was having a difficult time adjusting back to some kind of normalcy after witnessing the scale of destruction they represented, and more specifically, the capabilities of the robot she now occupied.
Bumblebee seemed completely far removed from what she observed of him not even an hour prior. The almost too cheerful, accommodating Autobot was a blur of frenetic motion and precision combat, a ferocity that seemed out of character from what she knew of him so far. But, then again, how much did she really know them, and what had become of them after centuries of war? They put on nurturing, gentle faces around her, but when circumstances required it, a switch was flipped. What came next was beyond her comprehension.
Allison tried not to think too hard about the soldier of war she was now sitting inside; a being capable of snuffing her out if the whim struck him. The silence harbored a great deal of chaos in her warring mind as she fought to make sense of what had just happened. She'd found herself at the center of a deeply-rooted conflict that had made its way to her planet. It was a blood feud she would never understand. There was hatred between Bumblebee and the Decepticon called Soundwave as they fought for dominance, and quite literally, her life.
It wasn't fair to describe Bumblebee that way—a deadly, sentient machine—but how else was she supposed to acknowledge the single-minded purpose to keep Soundwave and his minions off her? She still didn't really understand why they wanted her, if she wasn't what they had originally expected to find.
Then there were the twins. She assumed as much because they were the only two Autobots she hadn't met. They didn't even know her, but still fought to protect her, despite their own safety being at risk. When everything was said and done, Allison still hadn't felt safe. She'd almost attacked Bumblebee with an axe. She was damn lucky he didn't retaliate out of pure instinct. It was something she was going to be forced to think about for a while.
Ordinarily Allison might have babbled her way through this unprecedented madness, but while one of said Autobots was transporting her she chose to remain silent. Perhaps it was easier to absorb the experience that way, and to really maximize the mental peril she knew she was in.
Allison wasn't angry. If she was being honest with herself, she was afraid. Yet all she could really think about was how much she wanted to talk to Wheeljack. He still felt safe.
If she sat there quietly inside Bumblebee as he drove, she could almost pretend it had all been a figment of her imagination. It would have been easy if not for the pain.
The rain battered against the Autobot's body, and Allison barely had time to really think about her level of discomfort when he quietly offered her a ride. Immediately she was struck with how different he felt, but also… similar somehow. The same otherworldly hum that permeated through Wheeljack, beset with an undercurrent of something threading underneath the noise was as real as the tap tap tap of raindrops. Allison chose not to comment on it this time, or the warmth, because she realized this was just going to have to be normalized now.
Bumblebee didn't say anything to her, but there really wasn't anything to say that would have been helpful. Allison wasn't terribly interested in going over what had happened to her that he wasn't there for, at least not yet. Instead she focused on something more immediate and tangible—something she could control, and that was making sure that she didn't get blood all over him. It seemed like such a uselessly benign thing to be worried about in the circumstances, but it still managed to feel wrong. She held her arm tucked into her body and tried to keep her shoulder forward, but the pain was spreading through her chest and shoulder blade down her back. It hurt so bad and she had to keep biting her lip to stem the threat of reflexive tears. She wasn't sure how much blood she'd lost, but it sure felt like a lot. The fact that she was still walking and talking was a miracle.
Allison didn't even really have the spare thoughts to give to the other two Autobots that had literally just appeared during the night. Absurdly she thought it was a relief that the twins didn't look the same. In fact, they couldn't have looked more different, and she had the distinct suspicion the yellow one was named Sunstreaker. There was something about him that made her immediately throw her guard up but she wasn't sure why yet. It was like he had an aura around him that suggested he thought he was above all this. Condescending was maybe an apt description. She was beneath him and the technologically advanced species he came from. For some reason that annoyed her, especially when he stared at her with no sense of boundaries. The red one on the other hand she didn't notice as much, except to note that he seemed cautious, and maybe a little oblivious considering his initial reaction to seeing her. She assumed he was Sideswipe. Both of them saved her separately so she felt a little guilty passing initial judgments, and she knew she'd gotten lucky. Incredibly lucky. She should be dead, or worse.
If Bumblebee hadn't shown up when he did, she would have been dead as soon as she got outside. There was a faint flicker of an idea that she should probably be mad that the Autobot had followed her without her knowing, but guilt drowned that thought as quickly as it appeared. There was obviously a reason that she wasn't aware of, and maybe she would ask him later, but now it was impossible to be resentful of a choice that had obviously saved her life. She still had no idea why she'd been attacked. It sounded like she wasn't exactly what the Decepticons were expecting, but maybe they'd found an opportunity in pursuing her once they learned she'd had contact with the Autobots. Otherwise, what use was a single human to them?
That sounded like it was exactly what Wheeljack had been afraid of, and suddenly she found herself far more understanding of his frustrating behavior. The hilarious irony was that his intense caution seemingly didn't even matter, because the timeline of events suggested that Bumblebee being nearby was an incredibly lucky coincidence. Rumble had already been inside, meaning they had already been aware of her, or at least, the energon signal that led them straight to her. She was forever changed because of one stupid mistake and was probably never going to be rid of this intrusive substance stuck to her body.
None of that mattered now, because if they hadn't had any reason to come after her again before, they certainly did now. Allison's decision to seek Wheeljack out had her entire life now upended into chaos. One domino pushed over to collapse the entire structure down. Her place of work was destroyed, and given that she was the last person there, she would become a suspect. That didn't even get into the destruction left in the mall. There was practically a trail of sparkling breadcrumbs from her ruined building straight to it. Who knew if there were cameras. Her DNA was all over both those locations. She'd never been in trouble before, which at best, would delay her eventual capture by the law. That was assuming she didn't get killed by massive robots first.
Allison involuntarily shuddered, remembering the way the two little Decepticons had regarded her like little more than an insect to be swatted: Rumble and Frenzy, as if their names were supposed to somehow make them more cute and unthreatening. She knew evil existed, but she'd been lucky to never experience such single-minded ferocity up until this point in her life. That probably wasn't even the worst they were capable of, and she had gotten incredibly close to finding out what that was. She was afraid of them. The casual infliction of violence was so gut-wrenchingly terrifying, and the fact that both of them were even closer to her size actually made it feel more personal; more intimate somehow.
"Hey…" Bumblebee finally said, his voice in the interior soft and affirming like a grounding presence. Allison wondered if he'd sensed her discomfort, or maybe just noticed her awkward efforts to keep blood from dripping on the seats. He was nothing if not… attentive.
"I'm fine," she said, the words small as she stared out the window. "Just thinking." It was at this point she realized he'd stopped, and the distinct, bright red glare of a hospital Emergency sign filled the interior with an anxious glow. Allison hadn't even noticed they'd stopped. She's been so distracted it didn't cross her mind to tell him where to go, but apparently she didn't need to.
"You can talk about it," Bumblebee paused, hesitating for a beat. "When you're ready," he added, acknowledging her reluctance. Truthfully Allison wasn't sure what to say, other than thank you and somehow that didn't seem like enough. "I'm going to be here in case anything happens."
"You don't have to wait, this could take hours," Allison said, alarmed at the prospect of having an alien robot in the form of a car waiting the million hours it could take just for her to be seen. Honestly she could bleed out by that point, unless they triaged her to the front of the line.
"Allison, I'm not going anywhere." The words were stern, and very final. It was the first time she'd heard Bumblebee sound so firm in the short time she'd known him. Sourly, she realized this is what she had so selfishly wanted from Wheeljack for so long, and that didn't help. She had to let it go. Right now she needed to see a doctor because she was bleeding onto the Autobot that had selflessly risked his life to save her.
Bumblebee opened the door and she stepped outside, shuddering against the rain even though she was already soaked. The cold air almost knocked the cloud of dread off of her from the shock alone after the Autobot's warmth. There wasn't really more time to waste on unnecessary chit-chat, and she sensed this was his way of saying time was of the essence. Allison's steps were slow, but she made it.
The waiting room was predictably packed, and for a moment Allison panicked, thinking that it really was going to take forever until a nurse flagged her down. She wasn't even thinking about the audience she had as she stumbled in bleeding, but apparently she looked worse than she thought. She was immediately ushered back into a room that was little more than the usual hospital bed equipment surrounded by heavy mint green curtains. Allison was a little startled at how fast the nurse moved and how quickly they started asking her questions. She hadn't even thought of what she was going to say. She couldn't exactly tell the truth
After being told to remove her jacket and shirt and put on a sterile hospital gown over her remaining clothing, the myriad of typical questions about her identity followed. Allison figured she may as well get use out of her insurance while she still had it, considering she was no longer employed. The thought crossed her mind that she wouldn't be able to pay rent in a couple months, and she was so distracted by this nonsense concern (all things considered) that she didn't notice the nurse had started to examine the wound on her shoulder.
It was the first time Allison had truly seen it, and she swallowed hard once her eyes caught sight of the near perfect arrangement of sharp puncture marks that arced across her shoulder and below her collar bone. The skin was red, angry, and already starting to purple as bruises formed, probably where the beast had pressed its jaws against her to solidify its grip. The nurse's question floated to Allison's ears through the haze of shock that was ringing in her head, and she finally jerked back to reality when the question came again.
"Can you tell me what happened?"
"Uhm… uh, it was an animal attack. A friend's dog," Allison lied, not really sure what else to say. It was technically a quarter truth. Maybe an eighth of the truth.
The nurse was already cleaning the wound, the actions quick and practiced as they wiped sanitizing swabs against the marks. The amount of blood that had dried on her skin reddened multiple handfuls of gauze. The nurse didn't show any emotion at this, which was probably intentional. They remarked she was going to need stitches from the doctor, and Allison had to stop herself from chuckling at this, thinking back to when she'd already recently been stitched up. It was all happening so fast where everything moved around her with a blur, until suddenly the emergency room felt incredibly noisy. It was like someone had cranked up the volume dial all the way. Allison was dropped unceremoniously back into the present moment as the curtain was suddenly yanked open again. The nurse was nowhere to be found, and Allison had no recollection of them leaving. The new figure that passed through the curtain was presumably the doctor she was waiting for.
It was a middle-aged woman, with dark black hair pulled back into a low ponytail. She had very blue eyes that sparkled warmly when she smiled at Allison, dispensing hand sanitizer from a small table next to the curtain. Her energy was less chaotic when she walked in and pulled up a stool to sit next to Allison on the bed.
"Hi there, I'm June," she said warmly, regarding the computer screen next to her. "It seems we had a little accident, why don't you lay back and we'll take a look." Gently Allison found herself pressed down, and for some reason she panicked, not wanting to lie flat. She could feel blood still seeping from her shoulder, pooling against the crinkly sanitary paper on the bed. When the doctor asked her to confirm her name, Allison almost didn't hear her because she was so distracted by her own discomfort. The doctor didn't seem to notice as she regarded her digital chart. "You're up-to-date on your tetanus shot, so that's good," she commented as she turned back around and begin her examination. "Looks like this…dog got you good. Was it exhibiting any strange behavior?"
"No. We were playing. It was an accident. My friend gets their dog vaccinated." Allison lied again. She knew the doctor was alluding to rabies, but that obviously wasn't going to be an issue so she had to come up with an excuse to avoid getting unnecessary vaccines. She just wanted this to be over so she could go home.
The doctor looked up at her briefly as she treated the injury. "Can you describe the dog? Was it big?"
"My friend's dog?" It was obvious she was fishing for details she knew Allison couldn't provide. This had been a stupid idea. "A black dog."
"Well tell your friend that they will need to report the bite to authorities." The comment was almost casual, as if she knew her patient had no intentions of actually doing so. She was right, because Allison didn't plan on telling anyone anything.
Her story obviously wasn't working, and Allison could tell by the way the doctor was looking at her she knew she was lying about something but couldn't figure out what it was. She kept throwing glances her way as she put on a pair of bright blue latex gloves. She was humming to herself while collecting the additional disinfectants and sanitary packs that contained suture materials.
The doctor's expression grew serious as she arranged her materials on a tray. Finally, she nudged a gloved finger gently at Allison's' neck, her expression perfectly neutral.
"And those marks on your neck?"
Fuck.
"Machinery accident," Allison lied, again, realizing what she said was completely stupid and unfathomable. She didn't know what else to say, not even considering that she'd potentially have to explain away the other marks on her body. "At work," she added. It was a really poor attempt at a lie, but she'd blurted the first thing that came to mind.
"Quite the unlucky day, being bit by a dog and then getting hurt by a machine." Her eyes flicked up to Allison's. "Did the machinery bite you too?" Allison's throat clenched for a moment, before easing as the doctor winked. "I'm playing with you. I'm going to give you some lidocaine to numb the area and we'll get you stitched up and out of here." The fact that the doctor wasn't pressing the issue was probably a bad sign. "Maybe stay away from that machinery for a while. And big dogs with remarkably sharp teeth." Maybe she should have gone to Ratchet after all, because at least his questions would have been tolerable.
"Got it."
The doctor wrapped her shoulder and upper arm in a tight bandage after the stitches were finished, whatever painkiller or numbing medicine she'd given doing wonders for the excruciating ache. Removing her gloves, the doctor slid back around on her chair, placing a hand on the bed next to Allison. "Since you've lost some blood, I'd like to monitor you for a little bit if that's okay? I'll have a prescription for some pain management and antibiotics for you before you leave." her expression was far too kind and understanding for Allison's lie, and she felt terrible guilt.
Allison bit back the need to bolt, realizing that if she tried to rush through this she was going to look more suspicious. So instead she nodded, suddenly thinking about Bumblebee sitting out in the parking lot somewhere waiting for her. The doctor didn't know this of course, and she simply smiled and left Allison alone to stew in her own guilt. She had only the back-and-forth, hurried conversations of the medical staff outside her little curtain to keep her company.
Minutes ticked by, which turned into an hour, then more minutes, and eventually Allison really did think she needed to run. She was starting to feel anxious, but she was clear-headed enough to know that she wasn't going to die if she left. She had just finished putting her clothes back on when someone new came through the curtain that she hadn't seen yet. The way the curtain was thrown open suggested this person was very much in a hurry, and had no time for pleasantries.
The man wore a dark gray suit and tie, which led Allison to believe he wasn't a member of the hospital staff. She strongly suspected maybe a cop or some other form of law enforcement. There was a pen and paper in his hand, and it was at this point Allison knew she should have left much sooner.
Her heart began to race as she panicked, thinking this was about all the ruin and destruction that she left behind at work. Or, perhaps she'd been caught by security cameras trespassing into the mall. Her mind ran through a number of different excuses and lies, but none of them seemed good.
"Hello Allison is it?" He looked down at his pad of paper as if checking notes, which was definitely not a good sign if he'd had time to document details about her. Allison nodded silently, trying to hide the fact that she was sweating, but he didn't give off any indication that he noticed. "I'm special agent William Fowler. Looks like we have a dog bite?" Huh? For a dog bite? She knew that animal attacks were typically taken seriously but special agent felt like overkill. His voice was collected and professional, but there was a twinge of impatience underneath his tone that suggested he was already a little bit irritated with this conversation; like he was irritated in general. He messed with his tie, before turning his eyes to her in no-nonsense expectation. Allison knew she was being examined somehow, like this was a test. She tried to take in details about him, her eyes marking his badge on his belt, and she frowned. Something was off. "Standard procedure to report on these kinds of incidents."
"Since when does the FBI follow up on animal attacks?" Allison risked, feeling just a little bit defensive because this was starting to feel like an interrogation. After the night she'd had, she wasn't in the mood. The special agent made sense now, but nothing else about his presence in the circumstances was logical in the slightest.
Unless he was investigating something else.
"Staffing shortage," he said with little inflection. "You know, with all the defunding going on." Allison was supposed to just accept this as fact. He was obviously being sarcastic, maybe even a little bit snarky as if he was resentful. Or maybe he truly thought she was that dumb, because his expression did not change in the slightest. "Government has us sharing pens."
"Uh huh." There was more going on here then he was letting on, and she felt herself starting to tense.
"Can you tell me if there was anything unusual about this dog?" He was making a show of writing notes in his notepad, throwing glances at her for good measure.
"No, I already told the doctor. It was an accident. Just a friend's dog." Part of her hoped he would just get to the point. It was almost like he was waiting for her to incriminate herself, which she had no intention of doing.
"Just… a dog…" he muttered, narrating what he was writing down on his pad. "That's incredibly helpful, thank you." His sarcasm was incredibly obvious. "And where else have you been tonight?" There it was.
"My friend's house, that's it."
"You don't work at an electronic repair store a few blocks away?" Shit, he knew.
"I… do. But I didn't work tonight." Another lie.
"Mhmm." He placed a hand on his hip, displacing his suit jacket just enough to reveal a flash of a sidearm on his belt. Allison didn't think it was intentional, but it was obvious enough to make a flare of panic shoot through her. Too many guns tonight… she thought miserably. "So those strangulation marks on your neck were from a machinery accident at work, a place you were nowhere near tonight?"
Strangulation was a very specific word and its use here felt very intentional. "It was a different day." Allison risked, really feeling like she was being interrogated now. "I fell in the back room and landed on some cables. They caught around my neck."
The agent jotted something into his notepad. "Fell…on…cables. Huh. Seems rather clumsy for such a dangerous line of work. Must have been some big cables."
"Yeah something like that. Look, am I being arrested, or can I go? I wasn't in the area tonight." Lying certainly wasn't going to help her case, but she wasn't about to give out the Autobots' secrets to some strange federal agent. She didn't trust whoever this Agent Fowler was.
"You're not being detained. We're just having a conversation." he sniffed, and something in his tone made Allison twitch. She'd never been arrested before, but even she knew this was the song and dance they engaged in when they were being cagey about something. "So you wouldn't know anything about any noise complaints and a significant amount of damage?"
"No, I should probably tell my boss though."
"You should do that," he looked like he wanted to say something else, fishing for something in the breast pocket of his clean, collared shirt. He pulled out a card and handed it to her between two fingers. "Tell your boss to call me."
"Okay…" Allison said. She frowned, looking down at the card. Sure enough, Agent William Fowler; FBI . The card was glossy, and professional. It was no-nonsense and completely devoid of personality.
Agent Fowler pointed back at the card in her hand. "And if you see anything unusual, like more… dogs, you call me." The hardness of his tone had eased somewhat, making way for something more concerned and soft. It was earnest, and it honestly caught Allison off guard. Throughout the entire conversation he had been abrasive and sarcastic, at least up until this point. This FBI agent was nothing if not dedicated to his role as a public servant it seemed.
"I will."
"And maybe clean up those cables. They sound like a hazard." The agent said over his shoulder before he left. Allison felt an extreme sense of confusion and discomfort in the aftermath of the entire conversation. It felt like a farce, like an act, almost as if he was fishing for information about… something else.
Quickly Allison grabbed the remains of her shredded jacket—holy hell, she was glad she'd had the foresight to fold it up and tuck it away, because it was very obvious it hadn't just been a dog that destroyed it. She didn't feel comfortable putting it back on so she decided to hold it tight against her chest as if to hide it. Then, she tucked the card the agent had given her into her pocket where her phone was remarkably still intact. Somehow it hadn't been destroyed during the events of the evening. Obviously there was no way in hell she was going to see whoever this agent was again, but she didn't want to immediately throw it in the trash and look suspicious. She was in the process of hunting down the exit when the same doctor that had stitched up her Decepticon bite wound flagged her down. She was seriously regretting coming.
"Before you go…" She stopped in front of Allison with her hands raised, before she fished two pill bottles wrapped in folded paper—probably instructions—out of a pocket in her white coat. There was a warmly concerned expression on her face as she handed them over, and Allison felt tremendous guilt. She understood how the world worked. She knew enough to understand that the doctor thought she was a victim of abuse. "I wanted to give you something else." She held aloft yet another card, a thing of which Allison seemed to be collecting a lot of tonight.
Allison felt a myriad of emotions drain from her body as she stood there in front of this doctor, who through a lack of full information as to what was going on, was reaching out to her to assure her that she could be helped. Allison knew she couldn't. Not in the way the doctor thought. But she wanted to play along, because she also knew how important this was.
"If you need help, please reach out. I've finished up your discharge papers so you're free to go."
"I will," Allison tried to sound sincere, even if she knew that no one could help her with this. She turned to go, and no one stopped her this time. She'd lost track of how much time had passed, so she was admittedly surprised to see Bumblebee still sitting alone parked amongst the cars. It was a little surreal to see the yellow and black compact sports coupe sitting there quietly as if nothing was unusual about his presence. She supposed that to anyone else, there really wasn't.
Allison paused under the emergency room's entrance overhang, just watching him for a few moments as the rain tapped gently against the awning above her. Carefully passing her eyes over his frame, she tried to see if she could pick out any details that would stand out; details that would make it obvious there was more to him than met the eye. The only thing she noticed was the Autobot symbol on his hood, and that was only because she already knew what it was. The only other thing different about him was the fact that she could tell he was damaged. It hadn't escaped her notice when he found her about to put an axe through him, that there were signs of injury on his chest: places where the armor plates looked crushed and bent, like something had forced through the seams with a great deal of strength. His wings had also been hanging limp at his back, and she suspected she knew what had caused that. That had been when he was in front of her as a robot. Would she learn to recognize one of them in any other form that she didn't know? Or would she have to be constantly on guard that anything around her could possibly be a threat in disguise?
Bumblebee didn't move, though she didn't really expect him to. Eventually with a shrug, she walked towards him, instinctively passing her eyes across every other car in the parking lot. Just a bunch of human vehicles it would seem…
In fact, Bumblebee seemed unusually still when Allison finally reached him, and part of her wondered if he was even aware she was next to him. Timidly, she reached out and pressed a hand above the passenger door, and immediately she felt a sudden lurch pass through him beneath her fingers as if she'd just startled him. Had he been… asleep?
What an absurdly adorable thought, if not for how possibly dangerous it was for his safety.
"You're still here." Allison kept her voice low, choosing not to comment on finding him napping. She could imagine that Bumblebee was probably exhausted after the night's events, so not entirely his fault anyway.
"Why wouldn't I be?" It took him a few seconds to respond as if he was still catching up, but there wasn't a trace of exhaustion in his voice. Bumblebee sounded genuinely surprised, almost a little hurt that someone would have doubted his promise. "I said I was going to be here."
"It was just taking so long and I felt bad." Allison suddenly had a thought, remembering the Agent Fowler that had spoken to her, and she was hit with immediate need to leave. The fact that he didn't even really ask about the dog bite at all, meant that he knew something was going on. Looking back at the entrance, she didn't see anyone that would be watching, but that just made her even more unnerved. If anyone was keeping tabs on her, they knew what they were doing. "We should go." Part of her wondered if she should tell Bumblebee, but she wasn't sure if that was an unnecessary problem to add to the mountain of them piling up already. She didn't intend to call the agent, or ever see him again, so would it just be an unnecessary distraction? They seemed to have more important things to worry about, like a planet-scale threat that could kill them all.
That didn't even address the fact that telling a governmental entity about the Autobots would also put them in danger. Allison doubted the military would be as sensitive to their refugee status as she was, and it was too great a risk.
"Of course." Bumblebee opened the door for her in invitation, and he moved immediately as soon as she sat down. His engine (or his facsimile of one at least) hummed with the same otherworldly quiet that Wheeljack's did. "I have to take you where you'll be safe." The words were heavy, and almost distant. It seemed he was reminding her where they were about to go. As soon as he pulled back out onto the road, two other cars pulled out right behind him immediately. For a moment Allison stared, fearing that the FBI agent had in fact been watching her, until she realized the cars were yellow and red. It was the twins, who had apparently also been waiting for her. Maybe that was why Bumblebee had let his guard down enough to rest, because he knew he wasn't alone.
"I need to go home first," Allison blurted, taking her eyes off the two shadows once she realized she was going to need several things. Wherever they called home hadn't been designed with human comfort in mind, and she wasn't going to get stuck there with nothing, especially when she didn't know when she'd be back. It was tolerable for the short time she'd already been there, but a long-term stay was going to be way more problematic. "Please, I need clean clothes and to pack a bag or something."
"I'm not sure that's safe." He sounded hesitant, but he wasn't in her position.
"Please. If you don't know how long I'm going to be stuck with you guys, I'm going to need some things."
Bumblebee relented, and part of Allison wondered if the twins were also going to follow them to her apartment, because having a caravan of multiple unusual cars was going to draw attention. Thankfully, she saw the two of them veer off onto side roads, possibly to check the area, so she didn't have as much of an audience as she ran inside. This time she didn't really think about the alien eyes on her back as she ran through the door, pounding up the steps to her apartment despite her fatigue. She was gasping by the time she got to the top, and had to rest against her door for a moment to shake the stars out of her vision. Exerting herself like that after a stint in the emergency room was a bad idea.
Opening her door, she was struck with how dark it was, and she panicked with the light switch immediately to her right. Light flooded the apartment, and almost immediately she found herself eyeballing every inch of the space, looking for anything out of place. Obviously she would notice something like a giant stereo that hadn't been there before, but were they so determined that they would do something like replace her refrigerator? There was only one way to find out.
It was just a regular fridge, filled with her paltry offerings of food. Allison considered throwing anything away that was perishable because there was no sense in having food rotting while she was gone. Emptying the trash was a good idea too, and—why was she overthinking this?
Allison knew she just had to focus and collect the essentials. The first order of business was a change of clothing. She balled up her soaked, bloody clothes and threw them directly into the trash along with the contents of her fridge. It was cold and wet outside, so she opted for comfort rather than fashion, as the Autobots wouldn't really care about what she was wearing. A large oversized hoodie was the perfect way to hide the visual presence of her injuries. Running on auto-pilot, she slipped the two cards she'd acquired from the hospital into her wallet and stuffed that into her pocket with her phone. She could think about them later.
Then she started wildly throwing things into a bag that she thought she might need: extra clothes, some small toiletries, a charger (would she even be able to use it?), all the over-the-counter painkillers she had just for good measure, along with the two prescription bottles she'd gotten from the emergency room. On top of all that, anything else that she could think of that would be essential. The whole time she kept looking around, searching for anything out of place that shouldn't be there. It was probably paranoia, but it felt like there was constantly a presence at her back wherever she moved.
Standing still for a moment, the realization hit her that she felt wary in her own home. What would normally be a comfort to her, the familiarity of her mundane existence, was suddenly replaced by a distrust in what would normally be everyday appliances. It was unnerving, perhaps even more invasive to think that her own creature comforts could be weaponized against her. Allison had to deal with only the things she could control, because there was no time for regret anymore. She'd made a choice and would need to live with it, and that included changing her attitude about everything.
Right now, the thing she could do was to make sure she got out of there. Before running back out the door she grabbed her laptop and power cord on impulse and stuffed it in her bag. She didn't know if she'd even be able to use it, but she may as well bring it with her in case. It might help pass the time, as she had a feeling she was going to have a lot of it for a while.
Turning the lights off she didn't even look back as she locked her door. She only took one detour to dump her trash before leaving. She thought about sending her dad a text, to let him know she would be unreachable for a while, but she worried somehow she would lead nefarious forces to him: human or otherwise. Bumblebee was still outside, and as she hurried towards him she was struck with the realization that he had been nicer to her than she probably deserved. Up until this point she'd been so wrapped up in the stress of finding out so many new, life-changing things, that she hadn't really been thinking about the big picture. A giant alien being from a civilization way beyond her own had been nice to her. Gentle, even. It was a side of them she had yet to really see. Sure they had at least tried to secure her safety, and even fought for her, but Ratchet had been practical, Wheeljack evasive, while Bumblebee had been… warm and welcoming. He even drove her to the hospital when she asked for it.
She however, had rewarded them by being an insufferable brat, so focused on securing some closure from her childhood that she was being selfish. Allison felt so embarrassed, feeling herself go hot with shame as she sat back down in what had become the familiar interior of an Autobot scout.
Bumblebee didn't move for a moment, as if he was thinking. She wondered if he was speaking to the twins who were probably lurking nearby somewhere. "So… Wheeljack and Ratchet are going to meet us somewhere. They have to get the energon out of you." Allison didn't know why she found this surprising, as it made sense if it was something the Decepticons could trace.
"Don't you all have energy signatures or something too?"
"We know how to mask them," Bumblebee offered, before he started to drive again. "Obviously that's not something you can do. Or at least, as far as we know."
"Don't think I have that ability, no." Allison laughed slightly, finding herself at a loss for what to do with herself again. As if on cue, the twins appeared, driving close behind Bumblebee which meant they really had been just patrolling the area. She noted they were both the exact same, incredibly expensive looking sports car. They were rare , which maybe spoke to their character. From first impressions so far it sure seemed like they enjoyed showing off. She just found it odd that in this form they truly were twins, but when they were in their robot forms they couldn't have looked more different. Maybe there had been some similarities in their faces, but she hadn't spent enough time with them yet to really take out those kinds of details. "And… I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"I realized, what with coming close to death and all, that I haven't exactly been very nice. Especially to Wheeljack. And I'm sorry."
"I understand," Bumblebee said. There was a rush that passed through him, almost like a sigh. "You've been through a lot. I think you'll find he likely understands too."
"I'll never be able to comprehend what life has been like for you. You don't need to help me, but you did. So thank you." Allison thought that was the end of the conversation as there really wasn't much left to say. Bumblebee didn't speak for a few moments, and as before Allison couldn't really predict what he must have been thinking. Eventually, the energy around her wobbled, and it somehow felt confident and affirming in the way it flattened out around her with finality.
"That's what we do."
/