TTTB2
At first, she woke up slowly. Then the vague, hazy memories of someone trying to take what few clothes she had caused her to bolt straight up in fright. Her right hand patted her chest to see what she still had on, then her pocket to see if the ten dollar bill was still there, next it went to her lap, and what she felt there was a shock. Her mouth dropped open even as she froze in disbelief at the feel of a blanket with actual sheets. Her mind was ablaze with wonder she started feeling around the rest of the bed that she was in. The pillow was plump and had to be nearly new and the same went for the rest of the bedding. If she didn't know better; she could almost swear that the past five years had been nothing more than a nightmare suffered while she'd been asleep. Almost! The darkness that met her eyes when she deliberately blinked told her that it was still true and no matter how much she might desperately wish otherwise it would remain that way. She tried to remember how she'd gotten here, but the last thing she remembered was being with someone named Jazz.
Then, like an out of control rocket, it all came rushing back in an instant. The lucky find of the sandwich, the wind blowing the money to her, the man who snatched it and Jazz who'd stopped him. She remembered Jazz stopping on her old beat up fishing pole that she used as a cane and his promise to replace it. Then she recalled what had been said after she'd gotten sick and total confusion filled her mind. A slight machine like hum somewhere off to her right drew her attention, and she remembered what she'd been told.
"J... Jazz? Is... is that you?" She asked nervously.
"Actually my name is Ratchet. Jazz is currently talking with Wheeljack to see about getting a new cane for you." Said a gruff but at the same time, a seemingly kind voice with a slight accent.
Stephanie scooted towards the far side of the bed in fear. She had no idea where she was, Jazz wasn't around for her to get answers from, and she was now with a stranger that she hadn't even met.
"Are... are you a robot too?" She asked softly almost afraid of the answer she'd get.
"We prefer to call ourselves Autonomous Robotic Life forms from the planet Cybertron, or simply Autobots for short. We are also called mechs or bots, but yes, I am what you would consider a robot. I don't suggest that you use that particular word very often around us. It's considered to be a very serious insult, much like someone calling you a crippled bum. I know you didn't mean it that way, which is why I'm letting you know not to use that term in the future." Ratchet replied candidly.
"Okay. I'll... I'll remember that."
"Good. I don't suppose that I could interest you in making use of a shower could I?" Ratchet suggested easily.
Stephanie's face lit up brightly at the thought of a shower, a chance to actually get clean for once!
"Do you have any soap and shampoo?" Stephanie asked with a hopeful smile.
Ratchet reset his optics in surprise at just how eagerly the girl had responded to his offer. He knew that she would still be weak and easily worn out during the next few days while she recovered her strength, but the high powered treatments that he'd given her had worked perfectly.
"Humpf! A new bar and a full bottle just in case you decide to use the whole thing." He shot back with a smirk. 'Which I might recommend.' He added silently.
"Awesome!" Stephanie yelled ecstatically as she got off the bed and happily started forward.
"Don't move!" Ratchet yelled suddenly.
The medic's shoulders slumped in relief when the girl froze in fright. "You are only sixteen point three inches from a ledge which is nine feet off the floor." Ratchet explained quickly.
Stephanie felt the blood drain from her face when she heard that she was no more than one or two steps away from a very serious fall. She shuddered hard at the thought of how badly her legs could have been broken in just another second if Ratchet hadn't warned her the way he had. There were some risks that she was used to taking, risks that she was accustomed to, but then there were others that positively frightened her right out of her mind, and being disabled more than she already was topped the list.
"First let me tell you that blindness isn't something that we are affected by, and since you can't see what I look like; I will tell you that I am about twenty feet tall. That is why your bed is on an elevated ledge so that it's more convenient for me to treat your condition. This is my med bay or infirmary as you humans call it. Most of the humans that we deal with regularly don't object to being carried when they are around us. They have an advantage in that they can see when they are about to be lifted up and can say whether they prefer to walk or not. I'm telling you this because I don't want to scare you when I pick you up to set you down on the floor; understand?" Ratchet explained as gently as he could as he stepped forward.
"O... okay." Stephanie managed after swallowing a lump that had formed in her throat.
Although Ratchet had never actually dealt with anyone, mech or human who was truly blind, he had reviewed a lot of information on the web. He knew that a lack of sight forced a certain level of trust that often had to be placed in complete strangers, and as much as he hated to admit it, without a cane to allow the girl to get around properly, this was going to be one of them. He felt the girl go stiff as a board when he placed he hand around her. Then in a smooth motion he put her down on the floor and kept his hand around her while she got her balance, before stepping back.
"I have a shower room attached to the medbay for use by humans after assisting me with repairs on the bots we have here on base. It doesn't get used very often, but you're welcome to use it as often as you want. I can guide you to it, but the doors are too small for me, so I can't go in there."
"You wouldn't happen to have a scrub brush around do you? Rags and bath scrubbies don't work on my scars. At least; that's what they said at the group foster home I was in." Stephanie said explaining her odd request.
Ratchet stepped over to the tool chests that were lined up along one wall and retrieved a scrub brush that was used in cleaning away dried energon. It had been cleaned and sterilized after the previous use, so it would be safe for her to use without risk of energon poisoning. He stepped back over to her and held the brush out towards her.
"Here's one."
"Okay if you and Jazz didn't tell me that you were from outer space, this would! A real bed, a good pillow, a hot shower with soap, and an actual scrub brush that I can use? I could almost swear this was heaven!" Stephanie exclaimed happily, as she held out her right hand for the brush.
Ratchet grinned and had to admit that the girl's enthusiasm was infectious as he placed the scrub brush in her outstretched hand. "Now, if you'll make a half turn to your right; the first door to the showers will be straight ahead of you, but there's a second door a few feet past the first. The showers are set up like those in a high school, so they're single gender only. There are five stalls on the right hand side. The first three are showers and the last two are toilet stalls. Those have doors where the showers themselves do not. You'll need to be careful of the bench that sits in the center of the walkway. It's bolted to the floor, so it won't move. On the left hand wall are sinks that extend to the back wall. The back wall is filled with lockers. There are fresh hygiene supplies in each of the shower stalls."
Stephanie nodded as she listened carefully to the description of the shower room. The warning about the bench in the center was appreciated. She formed a basic map in her mind of how the showers were laid out. Now, all she had to do was keep that image in mind while she followed Ratchet's directions to get there.
As soon as she went through the second door, she began feeling in front of her for the bench. She found it a few feet from the door. It was right where Ratchet had described it. Since she had once been able to see, she could picture what things were supposed to look like. It was just about the only advantage she had left over from her time with vision, and she made use of it often.
Stephanie sat down on the bench and removed her grimy filth caked clothes, and laid them on the bench. Getting up with the scrub brush in her left hand; she stretched her right hand out in front of her and felt her way to the far shower which was next to the toilets. Soft, feather light touches explored the walls of the shower so she could find the soap and shampoo. She placed the scrub brush on the shelf beneath the soap. Then she turned her attention to the back wall where the controls were located. She reached over head with her right hand and found the showerhead. That she aimed to the side until she got the water turned on and adjusted to the preferred temperature.
With the water set as hot as she could stand it; Stephanie was reveling in the chance to get truly clean for once. She started by washing her hair. Knowing that she couldn't see how dirty the suds were, and not wanting to waste this opportunity, she washed it three more times to make sure she got it clean. Finally; she got the soap and scrub brush and put them to good use. She sat down on the shower floor to scrub her feet several times, and made sure that all the soap was off of them before she got back up.
Standing beneath the nearly solid stream of steaming hot water; Stephanie lost all track of time. She was thoroughly enjoying herself, and the hot shower. It was only one of the many things she missed about living in a home, but the cold blatant hatred directed towards her in the group foster home had been unbearable. She'd given up things like this, a wonderful shower, a clean bed, and fresh hot food, because even the handed down clothes that she'd been given were obviously and loudly begrudged. Doing without such things was offset by the lack of hate from the adults, and she didn't have to listen to the ideas and plans that some of the other kids came up with to play dangerous jokes on her.
Once again; memories of how she'd once had everything that now truly mattered to her rose within her mind. A family that loved her, clothes that were new, a soft warm bed to sleep in, meals that were made by someone who actually cared if she got enough to eat, and a feeling that she was not just wanted, but loved. It had never really registered before, and was always something that she'd taken for granted. Now things were different. Now she knew what she had truly lost that horrible day, and once again that painful loss brought tears to her eyes.
As she entered the shower room to check on Ratchet's guest; she was hit with a near solid wall of steam. Sarah Lennox's eyes widened in disbelief at the sheer density of it. Even with the excellent ventilation that had been designed into the room; it was still densely filled with massive clouds of steam from the shower the girl was taking! Sarah walked over to the far shower where the girl was relaxing beneath the spray and took a look at the latest new comer to the Autobot base.
A look of horror crossed Sarah's face as she took in the truly nasty burn scar that ran from the girl's left hip all the way up to the top of her left shoulder, down the left arm and reached the center of her back. Twisted tangles of scar tissue that resembled nothing less than the horrific face of the famous or infamous Freddy Kruger graced almost half of the girl's upper body. The sight was made even worse by the pale unblemished skin of the other side. Sarah swallowed hard as she tried to overcome the sick feeling in her stomach at the sight of that huge scar. She'd almost succeeded in her effort when the girl turned around.
Sarah gaped in renewed horror at the sight of a nearly normal left nipple resting squarely in the midst of the twisted and scarred flesh. She could see that the left arm was covered in the same burn all the way down to the back of her hand. She couldn't even imagine how painful it must have been to endure something like that. That was when she noticed just how skinny the girl was. The massive scar only enhanced the appearance of the near anorexic state that the girl was in. Even through the thick tangled and twisted mess of scar tissue, the girl's ribs were clearly delineated, and even for a Registered Nurse, it was hard to look at. Catching herself firmly, Sarah shook her head with a stern reminder to stop being rude. It didn't matter that the girl couldn't see her; it was still wrong. With that in mind, she made herself look at the girl's face. There was a startled look of almost fear in the girl's expression as she turned her head in different directions as if looking for something.
It had taken a long while before she stopped crying over the things, and a life that she no longer had. Once she did stop; she simply stood there in the shower and let the near scalding water cascade down her body. She'd kept turning up the heat as she grew accustomed to it, and by now, she was sure that she was as red as the crab legs that she remembered her dad loving to eat. She smiled at how he was almost greedy when it came to seafood like that. A sudden draft of cold air brought her out of her memories, and she knew that someone had come in. She turned around and listened carefully, but couldn't hear anything that would reveal the presence of another person.
"Is someone there?" She finally asked with more fear in her voice than she'd intended.
It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize that the girl was scared about something. The tone she'd used when she asked the question told Sarah that much.
"I'm Sarah Lennox. Ratchet asked me to check on you and make sure that you haven't drowned yet." She said in as normal a tone as she could.
"Drowned? How can you drown in a shower?" Stephanie asked confused.
"Okay, his exact words were; 'Go make sure that she hasn't washed enough dirt off to let her slide down the drain' and he sounded pretty serious when he said it." Sarah said as she tried to mimic the deep gruff tone of the medic.
Stephanie let out a rueful snort of laughter. "Well, I was reallyfilthy when I came in."
"Um... yes. Speaking of filthy, I'll be right back in just a second. You just go ahead with your shower." Sarah said as she grabbed the smelly rags that were supposed to be clothing and held her breath.
Another sudden draft made Stephanie shiver, and she huddled under the hot water until it passed. Then just a few minutes later, there was another draft of cold air as the door opened again.
"I told Ratchet that you were just fine, and he said that you are to take as long as you want. He did add the instruction that you are to be clean when you come out! Sorry, his words not mine." Sarah said as she the placed clean clothes and a dry towel on the bench where the old ones had been.
Again, Stephanie gave another rueful half snort half laugh. "I guess he doesn't like the smell of dumpsters and sewers much; does he?"
Sarah frowned at that comment. Ratchet had filled her in on what he knew about the girl Jazz had brought in two days ago, but she hadn't expected her to be so honest about where she'd been living. "No he doesn't. He's a little strange sometimes, but he's kind of nice once you get to know him."
Stephanie shivered as she turned off the water. Without the steaming hot water of the shower, the surrounding air felt cold, and she felt goose bumps form everywhere that wasn't covered by the scar. She felt around and got the scrub brush and shook it several times to get the water out of it, before making her way to the bench.
"I'll trade you. Towel for the brush?" Sarah offered easily.
It had taken some effort, but she was starting to get over the sight of the massive scar that covered nearly half of the girl's upper body. When the scrub brush was held out to her; she took it and handed the towel over in exchange. She waited in silence as the girl slowly dried off and then sat down on the bench after feeling for its location.
Stephanie finished drying off and reached for her clothes. The feel of the cloth that met her fingers wasn't the least bit familiar to her.
"Where's my clothes?"
"Ratchet put those in the incinerator. He said they deserved a proper burial, but he didn't want them to cause any environmental contamination either. Somehow; I don't think he was joking when he said that." Sarah answered quickly. "He said to give you these, since they'll fit properly, and he apologizes for the fact that they're used, but he hasn't had the chance to get you anything new except for the socks and underwear."
"I... I had a ten dollar bill in one of my pockets." Stephanie muttered plaintively.
"Yes, he found it and he's running it through a sanitizer! He said a good round of steam powered sterilization would do it some good."
Stephanie sighed in relief. Money wasn't something she got a hold of very often, and when she did, it was usually only change that she had to save up to get a candy bar or bag of chips, but on rare occasions, she'd been able to afford a cup of coffee from a vendor, and the hot drink had gone a long way in satisfying her craving for hot food. She picked up the clothes, and sorted through them to find the underwear which she quickly put on. It was while she was pulling on the jeans that she realized she hadn't given her name.
"My name's Stephanie. Sorry for not telling you sooner. I'm not used to talking to people, since I usually have to hide from them." She said sadly.
"Well, you won't have to worry about hiding while you're here. The Autobots tend to be pretty serious about the safety of their friends." Sarah answered reassuringly.
"I still can't believe that I woke up in a real bed and got to take a hot shower, and now I've even got clean clothes too. I don't even know when the last time I got to bathe was. I used to hate it when my Momma made me wash up, but now..." Stephanie said sadly while putting on the T-shirt.
Sarah watched the girl have quite a bit of trouble with the T-shirt since the scar tissue of her left shoulder had severely limited the mobility of her left arm. The girl slid her left arm into the sleeve first, and then put her head and the rest of her body into the shirt. It was a somewhat strange process to watch, but the way Stephanie had done it; it was obviously one that she was very familiar with.
"Can I ask where your mother is now?" Sarah asked gently.
"She's dead. Momma, Daddy, and my little sister Celeste; my whole family. They're all dead." Stephanie said softly as tears began running slowly down her cheeks.
"Oh Stephanie. I'm so sorry." Sarah told her as she pulled the girl into a light but heartfelt embrace.
"They wouldn't even tell me what happened! I don't know how they died! I wake up in a hospital like this and... and..." Stephanie wailed softly as she started sobbing in earnest.
Sarah Lennox felt her blood run cold at those words. She could only remember how devastated she'd been when she'd heard the news about the total destruction of the Soccent Air base in Qatar, and therefore her husband's death. But then, she'd been given the miracle of his return, and she knew that this girl in her arms would never receive such comfort. She pulled Stephanie into a tighter hug and let the girl cry. She didn't know what to tell her, because she knew from her own experience that nothing would ever, could ever make it better. It wasn't more than a moment before tears of sympathy filled her own eyes, as she too felt the gut wrenching anguish that went with such loss.
Within a few seconds, she felt Stephanie's right arm wrap around her as the girl started crying even harder. Sarah did the only thing she could in that moment; she let the girl cry, held her comfortingly, and was there for her.
There had been many times that she'd cried over the loss of her family. There'd even been several times that her family had been brought up by others, but never once had anyone expressed any sympathy. When she was at the hospital; the doctors and nurses would never talk to her unless it was to ask how she was feeling. At the group foster home; it was even worse. The cruel jokes made by the other kids, and vicious comments made by the couple who ran the place would have brought tears to her eyes even if she hadn't suffered such loss. Never, in all the time that had passed, never once had she really had the opportunity to just let her grief run its course. Now in the arms of a stranger; Stephanie was doing just that.
It almost seemed like an eternity to Sarah, before the girl's sobs slowed and eventually stopped, but it was obvious to her that it was something the girl needed. She had no idea how old Stephanie was, but she had to be fairly young. Even after the crying stopped, Sarah continued to hold her arms around the girl; doing nothing more than offering the same comfort she would have wanted. Finally, Stephanie sat up still sniffling and wiped her face with her right hand.
"I'm sorry. I... I just..."
"Don't worry about that at all, Stephanie. I know exactly how you feel. A few years ago, I heard the news on TV about how the base where my husband was, had been destroyed, and that there were no survivors." Sarah began, but paused when she saw the expression of fresh grief on the girl's face. "They were wrong. Will did survive, but I didn't find that out until almost a week later. I felt the same way that you do; like my whole world had been destroyed right along with that base. I can't tell you that it will get better, because I don't know that it will. What I will tell you is that if you ever want to talk about it; I'll listen; okay?"
Stephanie nodded her head, and wiped her face with the towel she'd used to dry off. She didn't know what to say. What did you say to someone who'd just let you cry in their arms like a little baby?
"Come on. Put your socks and shoes on, and let's go see Ratchet, besides, I'm pretty sure he's getting a little impatient by now." Sarah told her as she placed the pair of socks in the girl's hand.
Stephanie put the socks on, and she was pleased that they were also new. It took an effort for her not to think of her parents just then, but she managed it, barely. When she had the socks on, Sarah handed her one of the shoes. Stephanie ran her fingers around it to get an idea of what it was. A kind of boot, with a nearly flat sole and a zippered side met her fingers.
"A zipper?" She asked a little confused.
"I can't say that I'm a fan of those boots, but Ratchet was right about one thing; you can't trip on an untied shoelace if you don't have any shoe laces, now can you?" Sarah answered with a rueful laugh.
Stephanie didn't know what to say in answer to that, so she didn't say anything. She put the left one on first, and realized that unlike what she'd been wearing; these fit perfectly. She wouldn't need to wear three pair of socks to prevent blisters. Once she had both boots on, and zipped; she was as ready as she'd ever be. Plus she was getting tired, and more than a little hungry, and she had no idea where she'd be able to find something to eat.
"Here. If you'll take my arm I'll guide you back into the medbay." Sarah offered when the girl had gotten her boots on.
Stephanie reached out with her right hand, and hit the woman's left elbow with the tips of her fingers almost immediately. Allowing someone to act as a guide for her had been one of the lessons she'd been able to learn before running away from the group home. She started walking hesitantly forward, and soon heard the sounds that the doors to the shower room made as Sarah opened them for her. It was a very strange feeling to be put in a position to have to place trust in people who were strangers to her, and it was one that she didn't like. Living on the streets the way she had been doing had taught her the hard way that there were a very, very few people that could be trusted. Other homeless people had stolen most of what little she'd had when she'd first started living on her own. Then, after several days she'd run into a woman who had shown her how to survive. The lady had turned out to have severe mental instabilities and had driven her away after a while.
"Whoa! Talk about a Cinderella style make over! Someone's lookin ready for a night on the town. Ya could have told me that ya clean up good, Steph!" Said a deep humor filled voice.
"Jazz? Is that you?" She asked a little uncertainly.
"Yeah Kiddo. It's the one and only me. I'm so unique and one of a kind that even impersonators can't get it right! Ratchet told me you were doin better, but I didn't wanna believe it unless I saw it myself. So how ya feelin?" Jazz replied in a joking tone.
"A little tired, but I'm a lot cleaner than I've been in a long time." She said happily.
"That does not sound very reassuring. The type and amount of grime that you were caked in when you arrived will not be tolerated while you are here." Ratchet intoned irritably.
Stephanie frowned when she heard that. After all, it wasn't as if she enjoyed being dirty! What did he think she was; some kind of pig that liked to wallow in mud?
"I want to see you try living on your own in the sewers for four years and see how good you stay clean!" She answered defensively.
"Four years! How in the world did you manage to live like that for four years? You can't be more than thirteen!" Sarah burst out in dismay.
"I didn't have a choice. The man and woman who ran that foster home didn't want me there. They hated me, and always complained about how much money I was costing them because of medical bills, and therapy. They... they didn't even care that the other kids were making jokes about how they could trip me at the top of the stairs by sliding something at my feet." Stephanie shot back in a sad but defensive tone.
"Slagging pits! Even a fall on a level surface is four times as likely to cause a severe injury for the visually impaired, but factor in a flight of stairs... What the pit were those kids planning to do; kill you? Those weren't jokes!" Ratchet interrupted angrily.
"That's why I had to leave, and I didn't have anywhere else to go. I don't like hiding, but I don't have any choice." Stephanie answered defiantly on the verge of angry tears.
"What about..." Ratchet began to ask when he saw Sarah shaking her head no, while silently mouthing the words. "Don't ask about her family."
"What about other members of the foster care system? Have you spoken to them about this?" Ratchet asked quickly to provide a cover for the topic he'd been about to bring up.
"Why? So I can be put in a place that's just as bad, or even worse? I'd rather eat garbage." Stephanie replied morosely.
"Well, you won't be doing that while you're here either! If you want something to eat, then just say so. Speaking of which, I'd bet my last five hundred and twenty one credits that you're hungry by now, so let's head over to the rec room and get you something to eat." Ratchet stated firmly at first, but saying the last with a little more compassion.
"Now wait just a minute! What are you doin with credits, where did ya get em, an how come I ain't won em from ya yet?" Jazz promptly demanded as he rounded on the medic.
"Where I got them, is from Cybertron. I have them because they are mine. You haven't won them, and you're not going to. I have very little to remind me of home, and I will keep what few items I have." Ratchet stated precisely with a glare at the saboteur.
Ratchet was about to say more when he was cut short by an ominous rumble emerging from the abdomen of his patient. The medic turned his attention to Stephanie who looked not only embarrassed, but apprehensive as well. A thorough scan revealed that while she'd gotten herself cleaned up, she still had a phenomenal case of dandruff, and that she was now decidedly hungry.
When he heard the girl's stomach growl like that; Jazz knew that she needed something to eat. He didn't think anything of it as he stepped forward and was reaching out to pick her up when Ratchet stopped him by grabbing his shoulder. "What are ya doin?"
"Jazz, I know that we routinely carry our human friends around with no problems, but she can't see what you're about to do. So ask her permission first. That way she'll know what's happening. Otherwise you'll frighten her." Ratchet told Jazz after grabbing the mech's shoulder to stop him.
"Stephanie, I don't want you to take this the wrong way. We often offer to carry humans who happen to be our friends, because it's easier for them and us to do it that way. Even though they can see just fine, keeping up with us isn't even easy for some of the soldiers who work with us, because they have to run to maintain our pace, or we have to walk almost painfully slow. We normally either carry people in our hands, or if we feel comfortable with their presence; we allow them to ride on our shoulder. From there, they are able to look at our faces without straining their necks. It also means that we aren't looking down at them as well." Ratchet informed her in a gentle tone.
Jazz shot the medic a strange look. He couldn't for the spark of him figure out why the CMO was actually being nice for once! A yelling, threatening, tantrum throwing, wrench hurling medic was something he knew how to deal with, but a nice Ratchet? That was about as likely as getting Devastator to permanently join the Autobots! Jazz became certain that something was up with the medic, and while he didn't know what it was; he was determined to find out.
"Do they really do that all the time?" Stephanie asked Sarah after pulling on her arm to get her attention.
"Actually; they do. It used to terrify me to no end to see Ironhide carrying my daughter Annabelle around almost fifteen feet off the ground, because she's only six, but after being around them for the past few years; I've learned that they won't let anything happen to anyone who's with them." Sarah answered easily.
Stephanie turned her head in the direction that she'd heard Jazz's voice coming from. "What... what do you want me to do?" She asked more than a little nervously.
"Aw... That's easy! Just relax an let the Jazz Man do tha walkin! I ain't gonna drop ya, an I ain't gonna let ya fall either; so all ya gotta do is enjoy the ride." Jazz told her spiritedly.
"Okay... At least I'm not filthy, smelly, and puking this time." Stephanie answered uncertainly.
"Yeah, well. Don't worry about it. That's what we got wash racks for. They're just like showers; except they're built big enough for us ta use." Jazz told her as he wrapped his hands around her waist to pick her up.
As soon as she felt the large fingers around her waist, Stephanie moved her right arm so she could keep her hand free to grab on to something if she felt herself slipping. She didn't know how far off the floor she'd been lifted, but as fast as it had happened, it didn't feel like it was fifteen feet. She felt Jazz shift the hold he had on her right before she felt something bump against the back of her legs. Then, she was suddenly sitting on a very solid surface, and she couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. She felt Jazz hold her with one hand, while a finger that felt as if it was impossibly huge guided her hands to places where she could actually hold on.
"You need to hold her in your hands! Not on your slagging shoulder!" Ratchet groused quickly.
"Awww. Come on Ratch. She's fine! It ain't like I'm gonna drop her or nothin." Jazz retorted casually.
"She's not fine, Jazz. She's terrified! She may be trying not to show it, but scans don't lie." Ratchet shot back angrily.
Jazz didn't take the medic at his word, but decided to scan the girl himself to find out if she was frightened or not. The results showed him that while most of her vital signs were elevated; her heart was positively racing! He knew then that the medic was right, Stephanie was scared, and she was trying very hard not to show it.
"Looks like you're right, Ratch." Jazz said, reluctantly agreeing with the medic. Then, he turned his attention to Stephanie. "I think I'd better carry ya in my hands for now. How does that sound?"
Stephanie tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat so she could answer the mech. "I think that'll be better until I get used to it."
"That's fine. I never make it a habit ta argue with a Lady. Besides, I'm a lover, not a fighter." Jazz responded smoothly.
Ratchet wasn't fooled for a split micro second! The jovial tone and joking attitude currently on display by the saboteur, was shallow, lacking, and no where near the level easy self confidence that had been one of the mech's calling cards prior to his death. He knew that Jazz was having some difficulty coming to terms with the fact that he'd died, and the circumstances of that death. The problem was that however friendly, and outgoing Jazz might seem, he was actually a very private mech who revealed almost nothing of his personal life. Associates, comrades, and the type of friends to watch his back he had in plenty. However, Ratchet knew that there was almost no one that Jazz truly confided in, and opened up to, and that was the one thing that could help the saboteur pull through this melancholy state of mind that he was in.
"Nice try Jazz, but I've heard all about you by now. So you can try to pull the wool over someone else's eyes, because I'm not buying it for an instant. You can't tell me that there's another spy among the Autobots that was able to get into the Darkmount installation and get out without them ever knowing you were there." Sarah chided with a smile.
"Man! I can't go anywhere without that reputation tryin ta follow my aft." Jazz said with a shake of his head. He eased his hands around the girl's waist a little tighter and lowered her down to hold her in the crook of his right arm, against his chest.
"Ya can lean back against my front bumper if ya want. That might make it a little easier ta hold on that way." Jazz suggested casually.
"Bumper? What do you mean your bumper?" Stephanie asked in confusion as she turned around and started using her right hand to examine Jazz's chest.
An expression of confused wonder crossed her face as her hand delicately explored the chest plates of the saboteur. She could feel most of the front end of the same car that she'd ridden in, but everything else was now in different places. Her head turned slightly to her right as she concentrated on what her fingers were telling her. She stood up carefully in Jazz's hand as she kept allowing her fingers to explore the metallic body beneath them. Reaching higher, her right hand moved across the upper chest. Then she used her right hand to explore the neck, and up to the mech's facial plates. As her fingers explored the smooth metal, she couldn't help but notice the alien contours of the body, but then her fingers found something on the mech's face that made her smile.
"Dimples! You got dimples!" Stephanie exclaimed in happy surprise.
"Dimples? Say what? Huh... Whada-ya mean I got dimples?" Jazz asked in instant confusion.
"Right here where my finger is. Dimples. They're proof that you like to smile a lot." Stephanie told him as she put the tip of her right index finger on each of the indentations on the sides of the mech's mouth.
"Oh... She's got you pegged, Jazz!" Ratchet laughed. "The Jazz man. The life of any party! Admit it. She's got your number."
"Okay, so I happen ta like parties. What's the big deal about that? Nothin wrong with it." Jazz retorted. "What about you Steph? You like parties?"
Stephanie shook her head sadly. "I haven't been to a party since I turned eight."
"How long ago was that?" Ratchet asked quietly as he tried to conceal his interest.
"A long time ago... when my family died, and I got hurt." Stephanie answered despondently as she turned around and carefully sat back down in Jazz's hand.
Sarah quickly waved her hand to gain the attention of the two mechs, and once she had it, solemnly shook her head to signal them not to pursue that line of questions. She knew that the girl hadn't come to terms with either her grief, or the loss of her family.
Ratchet nodded his head to show that he understood Sarah's warning, but declined to say anything more since he wasn't exactly sure how to change the subject without making it obvious.
"Okay look, I realize that you two mechs don't need to eat, but she does, and it's time we got her some breakfast. Besides, I could do with a few bites myself you know." Sarah said coming to the rescue.
Stephanie's face brightened noticeably. "If you'll get my money for me; I'll have ten dollars so I can buy my breakfast."
"Sorry Stephanie, but they don't charge for meals in the rec room or the cafeteria, so you'll just have to save that money for something else." Sarah said without sounding the least bit apologetic about it.
"Well... do they at least have coffee there?" Stephanie asked not sure of what to say.
Sarah blinked in surprise, and both mechs would have sworn that she'd just reset her eyes. "You drink coffee? What are you doing drinking coffee at, what, thirteen… fourteen years old?"
"That's the only thing I can save up enough change for, that's good and hot." Stephanie answered softly.
"Well, there's plenty of coffee in both, but the cafeteria's too small for the mechs to enter, so we'll use the rec room where we can talk." Sarah said easily as she motioned for Ratchet to give her a lift.
Ratchet quickly picked the woman up and set her on his left shoulder so she'd be able to carry on a conversation without any problems. Jazz took up a position on the medic's left, and Ratchet instantly noticed a very stiff and rigid posture in the mech's bearing. Having known Jazz for countless thousands of years, he didn't need to ask in order to know that the mech was highly fragged off. Ratchet couldn't blame him. They'd come to Earth looking for the Allspark; not a pitched life or death battle with Megatron. Now, they find out, that there were other victims that day as well. Victims who hadn't deserved to be involved.
Sarah wasn't stupid. She knew what the time frame indicated. It didn't take a genius to figure it out either. Sure, she knew of quite a few military wives who'd become widows, but then that was a risk of getting involved with a soldier. The little girl in Jazz's arms hadn't assumed such risk, and from what she'd just said, neither had any of her family. It was enough to make someone's blood boil, and it did exactly that. She struggled to keep a lid on her temper until she could aim the full fury at someone who deserved it. The only problem was; how was she going to find out who she needed to rip into?
Jazz didn't say anything as he headed to the rec room with Stephanie in his arms. There was more than one reason for his not speaking at that moment. For one thing, the girl in his arms had lost everything that mattered to her. For another, those losses would never have happened if this war hadn't been brought to Earth. He knew that it didn't matter how sorry he was at that moment. Sorry didn't make it better. Sorry wouldn't make it right. Sorry wouldn't fix a single slagging thing! Sorry was nothing more than a pathetic way of getting over the guilt of being wrong. Sorry was just about the biggest excuse in the universe! Jazz knew the girl's life had been destroyed that day, and that perhaps the worst part was knowing that he'd been a part of the battle that had destroyed her life, and her family, and there wasn't a single 'sorry' in existence that could make up for that.