6. The Reprieve

Allison managed to stay hidden for a day and a half. She was honestly surprised it hadn't fallen apart sooner.

The first return to wakefulness after having her world turned upside down was… unpleasant. Allison didn't remember dreaming, only that she woke up startled. Panic washed over her body as a surge of fear threatened to drown her. She didn't remember where she was or how she'd gotten there, clear thinking hampered by the fact that at some point she'd been moved, so she didn't recognize her immediate surroundings. Clutching her chest, she realized once a shadow fell over her that she wasn't alone, and it was only when she saw the alarmed face of Ratchet did memories come racing back. Her brutal return to wakefulness had apparently been unexpected.

Next, she realized that Ratchet, for all his cantankerous bluster, was very… doting for lack of a better term, and Allison wasn't sure if it was endearing or incredibly annoying. It was entirely possible it was just in his nature given his role in this place—the Ark—but Allison wondered if he was especially persistent because of what she was: a squishy, weak, organic creature. At first she was too disoriented to really protest, choosing to let him poke and prod to his heart's content. He actually seemed scared and worried of the way she'd abruptly sat up with a gasp.

Once Ratchet was satisfied she wasn't dying, Allison was able to take stock of what had transpired while she'd been out. She'd been moved, that part had already been apparent, but at some point while she was asleep someone had propped a pillow under her head and wrapped her in what she hoped was a blanket. She was no longer lying on a flat metal surface, but rather a softishly firm pad of some kind. Where they had acquired such items they clearly didn't need was anyone's guess, so Allison assumed they were stolen. Admittedly she had a hard time feeling guilty about that.

Ratchet gave her the grand tour of her accommodations, which was little more than a sectioned off alcove on a shelf amongst nondescript supplies and equipment. Allison supposed that they would need to use this room at some point, so if anyone were to wander in she needed to not be visible. According to Ratchet, Wheeljack had been the one who moved her, along with apparently figuring out some other necessities.

Allison wasn't going to complain. She really didn't have a choice, and she had a feeling modesty was not really something these robots cared about. She was just grateful they cared enough to figure something out that would give her some privacy.

Apparently she'd been out for around 18 hours, though it took several attempts to get at that fact considering how infuriatingly obscure Ratchet was when it came to describing time. This conversation however also revealed something that Allison admittedly did not expect. These robots were very, very old . Like, incomprehensibly old by her own species' standards, though she would not have guessed just based on her interactions with them so far. Attempting to get to the specific numbers was nearly impossible, because Ratchet did not know how to calculate such lengths of time for her to understand. So they arrived at something around older than the entire existence of the human species, and that didn't even take into account the fact that apparently Ratchet was older than Wheeljack. Minutes and hours were meaningless if your lifespan could be measured in millenia.

Allison was going to get another headache, and potentially a nervous breakdown if she thought about it too hard, so she adhered to more tangible lines of questioning that were easier to understand. Specifically, she wanted to know more about what exactly had happened to land her in this situation in the first place. Surprisingly, neither of them seemed to know, which didn't exactly endow her with confidence.

Or rather, whatever this energon cube had done, reacting to her in such a disastrous fashion, had never been seen before. And because of that, they were clueless as to what sort of long-term effects Allison could look forward to. That was at least Ratchet's level of understanding, because she hadn't seen, or heard from Wheeljack since before she succumbed to the miracle drug that knocked her out. It was almost like he was avoiding her entirely.

After learning more about energon than Allison ever really wanted to, she realized it was quite a bit more complicated than just a simple energy source. It was their energy source, which meant it was a multi-purpose substance that was used to power their technology, while also being their own literal life blood. It didn't just power their stuff, but it powered them as well; It powered their planet. That was why it hardly surprised her that a resource of such singular importance had been one of several reasons that had caused them to flee their homeworld. Ratchet didn't seem willing to talk about what these other reasons were, so Allison didn't pry. She did find out exactly how they had gotten it out of her. It seemed straightforward enough, if not something that seemed a bit beyond the realm of science she understood, but that still left the looming question of what, if anything, it would do to her later on.

They were apparently in dire need of this energon too, which made so many things make sense to Allison after all these years: why she had found Wheeljack where she did, and what he was doing there—both times in fact. So much of what Wheeljack had said to her now made sense too. He'd been doing it because he felt responsible for their safety. So much relied on this energon, including their shielding keeping them hidden. Hidden from humanity, and hidden from whoever these Decepticons were. She didn't know anything about the Decepticons, but it sounded like their lives were at stake if they found them. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together and come to the conclusion that they were the reason they had been driven away from their home. Now, all her selfish childhood resentment and trauma felt so meaningless.

It was at this point that Ratchet seemed to exhaust his social battery, so he'd left her to attend to whatever basic needs she had. It was obvious he had no interest in assisting her, but that suited Allison just fine. Wheeljack had enough foresight to understand that humans eat food and drink water, and bless him he tried. She had to wonder how he managed to steal so much without getting caught, though considering he'd spent a good number of years stealing actual energy from people she supposed he got very good at sleight of hand. It was still a marvel how he'd managed to pilfer so many human necessities for her, and almost get it right. Water was pretty hard to mess up, but she was left with a bag of granola (not bad) and a bag of popcorn kernels (unpopped). Allison would just have to ration for the short time she assumed she'd be in their company, but she didn't really have much of an appetite anyway.

Ratchet and Wheeljack were very busy robots it seemed, which was fine. Allison was more interested in catching up on rest anyway. It was kind of a relief to have no access to the outside world where all she had to worry about was just existing. Her internal clock was on the fritz after being unconscious for so long so she dozed. Her phone was still working thankfully, though she had no signal, which was probably intentional. That meant no communication with her dad, which she couldn't do anything about. She could at least see the time, so that's how she knew it was about 9pm when Ratchet disappeared from her field of view and Wheeljack re-emerged from the depths of… wherever he'd been. It seemed they were taking shifts in making sure she didn't explode or something.

They were talking to each other in low tones somewhere in another part of the room and she couldn't make out what they were saying, or if they were even speaking in English anymore. Allison wanted to say something to Wheeljack—like thanking him for a start—but she was feeling weird about it after their last actual conversation. He seemed uncomfortable in her presence, and she was too exhausted in both body and spirit to endure that at the moment. It was too upsetting. So instead she listened to their low rumbling speech until at some point she must have fallen asleep again. It was sort of comforting.

The next thing she remembered was waking up more peacefully. Her head and body were still sore, but not nearly as bad as when she'd first been shoved back into reality. She felt remarkably normal as she sat up to find once again, Ratchet the only other occupant in the room. He had his back to her this time, but as she suspected he probably had some sort of sixth sense constantly monitoring her, he turned around almost immediately as soon as she moved.

"You can go home tonight," Ratchet said as soon as he was hovering directly above her, and his tone was delicate as he frowned. It was an odd contrast to his words.

"I don't know why you look so sad about it, as I'm sure you can't wait to get rid of me," Allison remarked, not even sure what she felt about it. While it had been nice to be left to herself for a while, she was also kind of eager to get back to the real world. Presumably once she was home and had time to process what she'd experienced so far, she'd start freaking out, because up until this point she'd been remarkably calm. At least it would be in the comfort of her own home then. She also wasn't really enjoying being very obviously ignored by Wheeljack. It was kind of his fault anyway, even though she had been the one to seek him out in the first place.

"It is not wise for you to be here longer than absolutely necessary. The risk is too great," Ratchet said, completely avoiding her observation with nothing but a factual statement. After spending so much time talking to him the day before, Allison found it rather refreshing how blunt and to-the-point he was. She suspected he was using factual statements to mask what he was really thinking, and that was how worried they were. It was actually kind of endearing how much he tried to pretend he didn't care. She liked Ratchet. A lot.

Ratchet made a gesture with his hand, palm up, as if to signal that he expected her to give him something. Not really understanding what he wanted, Allison sheepishly offered him her hand. She thought it looked like what a doctor would do, grabbing a patient's wrist to check their pulse. Thankfully that was the right call, because his massive fingers wrapped around her forearm, thumb pressing against the inside of her wrist just like what she would expect. He was amazingly gentle despite his size.

"I thought you could just sense my heartbeat," Allison said, finding this to be such a weirdly human practice that she would have never expected him to do. Ratchet made a noise that sounded like a breath of air.

"I can. I figured this would make you more comfortable."

"Well now it doesn't." Allison pulled her hand away, finding the experience now incredibly awkward. "You didn't do that yesterday."

"Because I didn't need to." Ratchet almost looked like he rolled his eyes, and Allison scoffed. Maybe she was feeling a bit sour not having seen Wheeljack, or she was just anxious to leave at this point. "We still don't know what the energon will do to you, if anything. We will need to monitor you closely. From a distance. And I will remove those sutures when it's time."

"Okay, well I don't even know where I am right now, so how will you do that?" Allison didn't miss the way he emphasized distance. She didn't really know what she expected.

"I'll know where you are." It almost sounded like a threat, even though she knew he didn't intend it that way. "In the meantime, Wheeljack is going to put you back where he found you."

It was Allison's turn to roll her eyes. "I hope you're not serious. I'm not a stray cat." She would hope he would at least take her home, rather than dumping her off in the middle of nowhere.

For a moment it seemed like Ratchet was formulating a response with the way his expression changed. It was actually very quick, but it felt like a long time, where something passed over his face that looked like panic. Allison thought that was an odd way to react to her statement, until she finally heard what she assumed set him off, presumably sensing something before her ears could even detect it.

The door behind him crashed open, and almost immediately a new, completely unfamiliar voice was yelling.

"Ratchet, I need to talk to you." The fact that the voice was speaking English should have been the first red flag. Allison also froze in fear, not sure what to do to remove herself from the situation. They'd been very clear about wanting to keep her hidden from anyone else stalking around.

Ratchet had gone stock still, completely rigid, and all Allison could do was stare at him waiting for some sort of direction, but he was incredibly unhelpful. She thought maybe she saw his jaw grinding, but it was so subtle it could have been a trick of her eyes. Finally, he spoke, his voice incredibly forced.

"Bumblebee if you are not currently in the process of dying, I am busy—"

"—I know you and Wheeljack have a human in here!"

Ratchet jolted upright, whirling around seemingly forgetting about Allison as she slipped into the background. Allison jumped as well, both from Ratchet's sudden violent motion and the loud bang as the door snapped shut behind him. She couldn't see who had come into the room, her view of them still blocked by Ratchet's back, and she had no idea what she was supposed to do.

The first thing that came to mind, was to slip back into the hidey-hole she had been living in for the past day and a half, thinking it better she stay out of sight. She assumed Ratchet was going to find a way to deny her presence.

—Was this guy's name Bumblebee?

That would be a puzzle to solve later, because for now she was focused on making herself scarce.

"That is preposterous, now leave. I'm incredibly busy!"

"I saw you and Wheeljack bring a human in here. Are—are you experimenting on it—" The voice sounded male, and almost youthful.

"—NO!"

The speed in which Ratchet denied such a claim was profound, and would have almost been endearing if not for how absolutely enraged he sounded. The second voice, this Bumblebee, sounded chaotically terrified from such an accusation. Allison found herself feeling a little grateful for that.

It was also so painful listening to Ratchet trying to lie about her presence, so she considered just ripping off the band-aid for him just to get it over with.

"Ratchet… just give it up," Allison said, her voice sounding a lot softer than she imagined it would in her head. She stepped back out, feeling the energy change in the room as Ratchet whirled back around in reaction to her revealing herself. She had to ignore how incensed he looked. "I'm going home anyway, what does it matter?"

"It matters! " Ratchet withered, becoming distracted as the owner of the new voice quickly stepped around him and came into view. Allison didn't really know what she was expecting, but it wasn't what she saw.

They were smaller than Ratchet, full height reaching at about his shoulders. Allison was beginning to notice that they all shared the same glimmering blue eyes, but that was where the similarities ended. They were covered in yellow and black armor, stripes of the latter color crossing directly down the front of their chest with the same Autobot sigil in the center. Looking at it now with more of a clear head, she noted that it looked like a face—a robot face—made up of a collection of closed shapes. The best way she could describe it was that it almost looked mournful, the specific alignment of features giving the impression of an android that was weeping. It had already been obvious that this was clearly some kind of marker of whatever type of "group" they were a part of. If the yellow and black color and stripes weren't already a little too on the nose for someone that seemed to be named Bumblebee, there were structures jutting out from their back that were clearly the long, slender door panels of a car, but their specific placement made them look like wings.

Allison realized that so far, all of them presented very masculine, at least based on the timbre of their voices and overall structure. She had no idea if they had any concept of gender, but they referred to one another using English masculine pronouns. That was either intentional, because there was a gender spectrum amongst them, or it was a default translation. Regardless, Bumblebee contrasted very differently to Ratchet and Wheeljack, his face softer and more youthful somehow despite being made of the same interconnected moving plates. As she spent more time talking with Ratchet she noticed that the metal was almost malleable, the pieces moving and sliding together with such fluidity that it almost behaved like organic material. Bumblebee's expression was clearly disturbed as he finally came into view and crossed the room to stand at Ratchet's side.

How does one really process having to introduce themselves to the third, giant robot in the span of two days? Allison had a fleeting moment of regret at speaking up as embarrassment began to flush her face. She felt warm, and thought she was probably starting to blush and that maybe it was visible because Bumblebee's worried expression changed to something less alarmed. With a more neutral countenance it became even more obvious that his more boyish tone matched the face.

"Hi." He said softly, offering a small wave; a very human gesture. "What's your name?" Also to the point, and very polite.

Hesitation. "...Allison." It wasn't that she was truly wary of him, it was the fact that his communication style felt more… practiced and natural. It was like he possessed better social skills than the two she'd already spent time with, which was a low bar to begin with.

"I'm Bumblebee. I have—" He looked at Ratchet severely, then back at her before leaning forward towards her. Allison did not step back, not wanting to appear fearful, because everything about him screamed not a threat in every possible sense. "—so many questions." She noticed he had what looked like horns on either side of the top of his head. They shifted forward slightly, freely moving, before sliding back to a neutral position. She wondered if they were antennae or some form of sensors and he was… scanning her.

"Questions that will under no circumstances leave this room " Ratchet finally spoke up, his tone sounding defeated as he pointed at Bumblebee's back. "You were not supposed to find out about this." The wings on Bumblebee's back twitched—much like an insect's wings would flutter— like he wasn't taking Ratchet seriously in the slightest.

"Calm down Ratch'" Bumblebee stood back up, his mouth lifting in the corner into a smirk as he turned to regard the taller robot in the room. "'Sides and Sunstreaker barely know what day it is. They wouldn't even believe me if I told them."

"That's because we don't use days of the week," Ratchet was pinching the bridge of the structure that looked like his nose between his fingers. "Aren't you supposed to be on patrol?"

Bumblebee shrugged. "It can wait. I thought this was more important considering I was waiting for you two to say something if nothing sinister was going on in here."

"A concern that was misguided. What in Primus' name would compel you to think that?" Ratchet's arms folded across his chest and he looked scandalized at the very possibility.

"What am I supposed to think when I see you two sneaking an unconscious human in here and you don't say anything to Prime?!"

"How did you—" Ratchet seemed aghast, maybe even offended at the thought they were being spied on. Of course Allison didn't really know what they were referring to, seeing as she'd been unconscious at the time. "Tell me you didn't say anything to Optimus."

"First, no, and second, of course I saw you two because neither of you are as quiet as you think you are. And I'm the best scout we have, if I'd have wanted you to know I was there you would have." Bumblebee said, a note of smugness in his tone and Allison was starting to get a clear picture of the differing roles they had in this place. Bumblebee was a scout, probably good at getting in and out of places without being seen or heard. Somehow.

Allison said nothing up until this point, content to watch them talk to each other with reserved fascination. It was heartening to know that someone completely disconnected from her situation might have been selflessly concerned for her safety.

"Besides, no one knows what Wheeljack is up to half the time, and he's been acting weirder than usual for years." Bumblebee frowned, ignorant to the fact that this statement caught Allison's attention. She wanted to ask further but wasn't really sure how to interject. Despite how more accepting she might have become to her circumstances, it never stopped being intimidating. "I assumed one of you would say something…"

"It was safer if we didn't." Ratchet said, his tone holding a finality to it to indicate he would take no further questions on the matter. "The human is leaving anyway, so you don't need to know the details. You can see she is fine." Ratchet gestured in her general direction. He was well aware of her name, so the fact that he'd reverted back to human made Allison bristle with annoyance.

Bumblebee's gaze slid back to her direction, his eyes going pale. "Why did you have an energon signature?" Allison frowned, suddenly feeling a touch more uncertain of her situation than she did before. Did they somehow… smell it on her? It was such a horrifying, uncomfortable feeling to know there was something about her they could sense that she was completely blind to: like a wild animal smelling blood. She didn't know how to explain what had happened because she wasn't even sure she fully understood it.

A worm of fear started to dig deep into Allison's brain as she put a couple previously disconnected pieces together: if they needed energon, a substance that she had unwillingly been exposed to, did that mean that it was now a constant presence in her body that could be indefinitely… harvested? Was her safety in more jeopardy than she'd fooled herself into believing? Bumblebee's expression seemed more wary and concerned than interested, for lack of a better word. Wheeljack and Ratchet had thus far been more worried about removing it from her than finding a way to harness it for their own needs, if such a thing was even possible. That was assuming they weren't desperate enough to figure out a way to try.

"The remnants of an… unfortunate accident. One we're still trying to figure out." It was Ratchet's turn to frown, and he now turned his attention back to Allison. "With any luck the remaining traces of it will burn off naturally through her own metabolic processes, nearly undetectable unless standing practically on top of her." It calmed her nerves a little bit to hear Ratchet say that.

"Ratchet, you can talk to her like an adult. I'm sure she's overwhelmed enough as it is." Bumblebee said, and Allison was surprised by his… empathy. He looked back at her finally, pulling her back into their circle of discussion, and judging by his gentle, attentive expression it was intentional. "Are you…"

"I'm fine." Allison offered, assuming that was what he'd been trying to ask. "I'm… not really sure what happened to be honest."

Bumblebee's eyes narrowed, but everything else about his expression seemed relaxed. "You sure you're fine? If I had to spend that long cooped up in here with him I think I'd be tearing at the walls." He gestured towards the other occupant in the room, who looked surprisingly unaffected. "No offense Ratchet, I love you, but Pit you're unbearable."

"When you're my age, you'll understand why." Ratchet didn't sound particularly offended, and instead seemed more amused. It was like he'd heard this before and had reached the state of humoring it. Allison had definitely heard her dad say something nearly identical when she was growing up. The thought almost made her laugh. "But by all means, if you want to take Allison out for a stroll, be my guest."

"What?!" Allison actually said in unison with Bumblebee, who seemed equally surprised that Ratchet would be even a tiny bit lax. It was so uncharacteristic of him based on how catastrophic he'd been about her situation and very existence in their midst thus far.

"At this point it can't get any worse so why not. I can finally get some work done." Ratchet said, his words harsh, but his softer, more understanding expression when he glanced at Allison gave him away. He was actually doing this for her. It was almost like she'd grown on him a little.

Though it was also rather presumptuous to assume that Bumblebee had any interest in entertaining her. Whether or not he'd been concerned about her wellbeing didn't automatically translate into a desire to babysit her.

"Okay, if that's something you want?" Bumblebee said after a moment, looking to her for her agreement. Truthfully Allison was touched. His expression looked bright and hopeful, and all she could hope was that she didn't prove to be a boring disappointment. She had to wonder if he was just fascinated by the possibility of talking to a human, so there was a lot riding on making a good impression...

"Sure." She didn't want to sound too eager, but damn she just wanted to get out of this room.

"Do not, under any circumstances, go near Sideswipe and Sunstreaker." Ratchet said, his tone suddenly very stern with warning. Allison remembered Bumblebee had referenced those two names as well. "They don't need to know about this." Ratchet turned, and she thought she heard him mutter something that sounded suspiciously like "don't need anymore injuries…" and she dimly wondered if they were genuinely a threat based on how they spoke of them.

"Yeah yeah," Bumblebee said dismissively, before stepping closer to her again and offering his hand. It took Allison a moment to notice him, as she was busy trying to work out how far the ground was. It didn't seem like it was too high for her to slide down, and eyeing his hand, she definitely wasn't going to fit unless he planned to actually grab her.

That didn't sound pleasant, and when she smiled at him hesitantly, Bumblebee seemed to catch on to what she was trying to do. He lowered his hand further towards the floor so she could slide off and use it as some sort of stopper to slow her descent. She felt his strength beneath her weight as his arm braced with her, and the jolt back down onto the floor after being on what was essentially a shelf for the past day was jarring.

Once she was down on the ground, Allison felt her heart jump. She was suddenly reminded of how big they were now that she wasn't around their waist level. Even Bumblebee was easily around 12-15 feet tall, which was still daunting despite his comparatively small stature. She supposed that was advantageous for someone who was supposed to be a scout; small and compact to remain unseen. Any advantage possible was a good thing considering Bumblebee was bright yellow.

"You see anything at all, you radio it in immediately and come right back, you understand?" Ratchet called after them. Bumblebee turned to respond to Ratchet mid-stride and threw a thumbs up over his shoulder.

"Of course. This is me you're talking too. The master of patrols." Allison wondered what kind of patrols these robots took, because they were making it sound like a very dangerous endeavor. Bumblebee's tone however, sounded incredibly bored and unserious. "Besides, nothing ever happens. It'll be fine." He glanced down at Allison as if to emphasize the point for her benefit.

Ratchet sighed, seeming to not want to debate any longer. "Just stay out of trouble."