A/N: I just noticed recently that was not sending me email notifications, so I haven't been able to respond to all the comments left for me. Just know that I've seen them, and I appreciate them immensely.
A bit of a really long chapter, so apologies for the length.
7. The Goodbyes
It started to make sense why Bumblebee had been more flippant about this "patrol" than she would have expected, because apparently they quite literally were in the middle of the wilderness. Allison didn't know exactly where, because they could have been in any part of the state outside of the larger metropolitan areas.
The room she came from was clearly their version of an infirmary, and as she walked out of it the immediate surroundings had been fairly nondescript. It was the interior of some sort of ship, all metal paneling, ventilation, bundles of wiring and twinkling lights between the seams like the ship itself was made out of stars. It was a similar design motif she noticed on Wheeljack amidst his paneling structure, and now that she was thinking about it, Ratchet and Bumblebee had it as well. It was like they had visual stylistic similarities with their own technology; a piece of themselves in their own craftsmanship, which probably wasn't too far off. There was a larger room that had what appeared to be a massive computer terminal against the far wall, complete with multiple screens and several instrument panels that looked like a mixture of brightly lit keyboards, switches and various illuminated monitor read-outs. Miscellaneous clutter lined the walls and the corners, the purposes of which Allison didn't recognize. She was certain it all probably had a function or a reason for being where it was, but it was all meaningless to her eyes. It all reminded her of a home in transition, like they weren't quite where they were supposed to be as if stuck in limbo.
Bumblebee had crossed the room with purpose while gesturing for her to follow him, and she had to trust that he was aware of who else may be around in order to avoid them. Allison wasn't sure she'd be able to cope with meeting anyone else, unless she wanted her tenuous grasp on sanity thus far to finally unravel. They were clearly alone as they descended a slope into what looked like some sort of cargo hold. It was filled with the same mystery crates and blocks of machinery odds and ends scattered around the room, with even more nondescript junk hanging from the ceiling suspended by netting. Sunlight flooded in from a large open door at the very end, where there was the more familiar debris of rocks, greenery and piles of dirt just outside. Walking through this threshold, it was obvious that whatever purpose it had once served, it was too damaged to do so anymore. The dirt turned gradually into fresh grass underfoot, and feeling it under her feet was actually comforting. It was familiar.
Blinking through the harsh sunlight, the first thing Allison noticed was the air. It was so clean and fresh, that she immediately knew they were high just from the sensation alone. She'd spent enough time hiking with her dad in the local mountains as a kid to recognize unpolluted alpine air when she had the good fortune to breathe it. High elevation air felt a certain way in the lungs that was hard to describe. Once her eyes adjusted, she saw the trees, blanketing the rocky, mountainous terrain that surrounded them in a carpet of rich green. This was definitely the wilderness; probably one of the larger national parks in the mountain ranges. She wondered if these Autobots knew how to appreciate how beautiful this place was, or if this was just organic chaos to them. Allison was a little bit stunned for words, having not expected to be met with such an incredible view.
"They're not really dangerous," Bumblebee finally said, cutting into her reverie as she walked mindlessly after him. They hit the treeline, and Allison faintly realized they were walking up. She thought she could hear the dull roar of falling water somewhere up ahead. When she didn't immediately respond, he corrected. "The twins I mean. They aren't dangerous. Just… excitable."
"Oh, you mean the others you were talking about?" Allison remembered their names, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. Their names were all so odd, it had to have been translations of some kind from whatever language they spoke. Or they just used nicknames. This reminded Allison that she really wanted to know how an alien robot ended up with the name Bumblebee. "Sorry, this is all just a little overwhelming…" The fact that two of them were even referred to as twins implied familial connections, which made Allison's head hurt with even more questions. How did robots have concepts like brothers, much less understanding of a concept like twins, unless Bumblebee was being literal and they simply looked identical. That wouldn't have been confusing to her dumb, organic eyes at all.
Bumblebee stopped very suddenly and crouched, the action causing Allison to nearly bump into his leg before she managed to stop just short of his body. She wondered for a moment if she should be worried, seeing or hearing nothing unusual other than the growing sounds of rushing water that they walked. The pathway they were on looked like an old game trail, or possibly something that loggers had used if Allison's knowledge of history was accurate. The mountains were full of old logging roads and abandoned infrastructure that fell into disuse long before the concept of aliens and spaceships was in the collective consciousness.
"Sorry," he offered, giving her a regrettable look. "Don't step there," he pointed down, where a part of the pathway was covered by overgrown shrubbery and deadfall. Upon closer inspection it looked like empty air further out, meaning the pathway broke into a dead slope there. She hadn't noticed and might have walked straight off a cliff. Bumblebee was either that familiar with the area or his vantage point offered him a clearer view of the surrounding hazards. Or he just had really, really good eyes, which was not that much of a stretch to consider. If he "scouted" maybe he knew what to look for, or had certain sensors or visual filters that could process environmental features in a way she couldn't understand.
"Thank you, I could have broken my neck and died," Allison said, leaning slightly to try and peer further down. "Again."
Bumblebee hummed, his arm resting on his crouched knee. It seemed he wanted to say something, but didn't know how to voice it. Allison knew what he was going to ask so she figured she would head off any potentially awkward questions. She was embarrassed enough as it was.
"You want to know how I ended up… here," Allison said, gesturing around. She found it surprisingly easy to meet the Autobot's gaze. He looked at her differently than Ratchet and Wheeljack did. She saw pity and worry in their eyes, like at any second she was going to disintegrate into a puddle of mushy, organic goo and they were walking around proverbial eggshells to make sure they didn't cause her premature death. With Bumblebee she saw kindness and understanding, almost like they were on a level playing field. They weren't obviously, because he could probably still crush her with embarrassingly little effort, but she got the impression he had more empathy for her.
"Heh, kind of. You're the first human to know we exist… And you seem remarkably calm about that." Bumblebee stood, and Allison read that as a queue to follow him, taking care to step around where he had noted to be dangerous. "I need to get higher to boost the signal," he offered by way of explanation while gesturing up the path, even though Allison wasn't really questioning where he was going.
"Well, how much time do you have?" Allison asked unseriously, a hand hovering over the stitched wound on her head. She frowned, thinking she very likely was precariously close to death had Wheeljack not done what he did. If Ratchet's secondary account of what happened was true, then the fact she was even alive was a miracle in itself. "It's kind of a long story… Oh."
They had reached a gap in the surrounding forest that made way to a clearing, the tall grasses bursting with the brilliant colors of wild flowers that seemed to stretch towards the horizon where nothing but the tops of fir trees broke through towards the sky. They were higher than she'd previously thought, with nothing but mountains and trees spreading out far into the distance as far as she could see. A very tall mountain peak could be seen further off, the snow capped bowl of its upper reaches marred by a ruptured scar that broke the almost perfect symmetry of its cone-shaped tip. It was such a breathtaking view, that Allison was almost envious of their living arrangements.
Bumblebee stepped further out into the field and returned to his previous crouching position. This time he pulled out—no materialized—a large, thin object that looked like a tablet of some kind. This was confirmed when the front face of it lit up, and he began tapping on what was obviously a screen.
"All the time in the world. I'm good at multi-tasking," he said without looking up. When she didn't immediately respond he paused, noting what must have been the confused look on her face because she didn't quite know how to ask him where he got that from. "Subspace pocket. That's right, you don't have those." Bumblebee chuckled. "It's like a… personal storage space in a slip dimension. In case you haven't noticed we don't have pockets."
"Ah, yeah I noticed," Allison said, shaking out of her fascinated stupor. "I don't want to be a distraction or anything."
"You aren't a distraction," Bumblebee said frankly, lowering the pad for a moment. "I asked you out here for a reason. I'm curious. You tell me how you found us, and then you can ask me a question, deal?"
"I guess technically I found Wheeljack. Twice." Allison offered, thinking about how she was going to recount the impossible two separate instances of running into him decades apart. Bumblebee had tilted his head, and the gesture looked like he was waiting for her to elaborate. She was being unintentionally vague so she couldn't blame him. "I guess, there's more to it than that…"
Retelling the story from when she was a child, was probably the first time in a very long while that she had… relived the encounter in a sense. At least since her early days in therapy. She hadn't spoken about it with anyone in years, intentionally, because she'd been trying to bury that part of her mental development in the past where it belonged, because it hadn't seemed real. Now, with the context of knowing what she knew now, it was like replaying a trauma that she had previously only been a witness to; detached and disembodied from it like a bystander. Carrying on to seeing the image of him later in life, and her impulsive decision to seek him out put her wounded psyche into a perspective that she hadn't considered before. She'd never gotten over it, truly. She merely pretended she made up some sort of fairytale to ignore how much it hurt. It almost didn't feel like she'd experienced any of it, like a dissociative episode, except for the fact that she was now standing in the middle of a field of wild flowers with an alien robot. A different alien robot.
She did leave out the specific details about what he was doing in the places she found him in. It wasn't really her secret to tell, and she didn't want to get him in trouble somehow. She was able to sidestep the description of what apparently had caused her injuries, because she honestly didn't completely remember what happened. That seemed to satisfy the Autobot because he didn't ask further questions. Maybe he knew more than he let on anyway.
"Wheeljack never said anything about you…" Bumblebee said, humming appreciatively. "Though now it makes sense why he's been a little odd for a while. I'm impressed that you remembered enough about him to find him again…" Bumblebee was referring to the car, a detail of which Allison still wasn't sure if she fully understood. They obviously had elements of cars on their bodies, but putting the pieces together and going from A to B was lost on her. She wasn't even sure if what she was looking at was armor, or actually part of their body somehow like an exoskeleton. It also felt rude to ask about.
"That doesn't surprise me. I gather I was meant to stay an unfortunate secret. Though, Ratchet knew, which I didn't even know until I met him." She remembered back to what Wheeljack said before she'd passed out again. Ratchet had known the whole time.
"I wouldn't say 'unfortunate.' Maybe 'poor timing,' considering we're not in the best of shape right now. " Bumblebee said, and Allison could tell he was genuinely being sincere. It made her a little uncomfortable because she wasn't used to that level of kindness from a stranger. "I know Wheeljack pretty well. I think you left an impression on him, and I would guess as much as the impression he left on you." She wasn't sure she really believed him, but she supposed it was nice to hear all the same.
"He's kind of hard to forget," Allison laughed, but there was a thread of discomfort in her voice that was maybe born from regret. Logically she knew he was probably doing what he thought was best: keep her at a distance so that it would be easier to cut the cord for her own safety. It's what she would have done were the roles reversed; to protect herself as much as the other party.
Allison wasn't stupid. She knew this was incredibly dangerous, and she was probably better off putting this all behind her. She was better off simply being satisfied with the closure. He hadn't owed her even that, but she had gotten it. If these Decepticons were really looking for them, then the chances of them being found were probably growing by the day. She would only be in needless danger being in the way.
"Ah, if only you knew," Bumblebee said with a laugh of his own. "Wheeljack has a… reputation. He…" He trailed off, suddenly going silent as he became intensely focused on whatever was on the screen he was looking at. Allison used the opportunity to take in more of the view, searching for the source of the sound of water that now sounded like it was on top of them. There was a waterfall somewhere but she couldn't see it. She faintly wondered if that was where Wheeljack had gotten the water she drank earlier, which she kind of hoped wasn't the case.
Bumblebee made a noise that sounded like a sharp intake of air, before he began interacting with the screen again. Allison felt a weird shift in his energy, like something about his mood had changed and she wondered if she'd said something offensive. He seemed straighter, like he was on high alert, but when he finished with the tablet he was holding it quickly disappeared into whatever portal it came from. As if shaking off whatever had affected him, he returned his attention back to her with a smile that now seemed kind of forced.
"Sorry. Just focusing," Bumblebee said dismissively. Allison raised a brow, but she didn't comment.
"Is there a waterfall here?" Allison asked, wanting to change the subject.
"Oh yeah, it's this way," Bumblebee said, standing up suddenly. He looked up at the sky, almost like he was searching for something, before motioning for her to follow him back into the trees. He continued as he walked. "Wheeljack has a reputation for being… destructive. He's brilliant, but unpredictable. The Decepticons have tried many, many times to take him out, but they've failed." He laughed, perhaps recalling a distant memory.
"He mentioned them, yeah," Allison said with a frown. Wheeljack had mentioned a lot of things the first time they ever spoke.
"Honestly I'd be surprised if he didn't beat them to it first." As if to clarify, Bumblebee added, "His experiments do not always take his personal safety into account, because he's so focused on results. That's why the Decepticons are so bent on removing him from the board." He sounded grim, almost like he was trying to emphasize some kind of point to her. "He's irreplaceable to us, because of how good he is at what he does, even if his methods aren't always the most… safe."
"And because he's your friend." Wheeljack had been very clear about helping his friends stay "safe" by way of what he did, so it was a little odd to hear Bumblebee explain things a little differently. They clearly had conflicting definitions of "safe" but she supposed Wheeljack's heart was in the right place. She also detected a level of protectiveness in the way Bumblebee spoke that meant recklessness aside, he was important to them.
Bumblebee nodded. "Yeah. He's the reason I'm an Autobot I guess. He found me during the war." That was probably a whole other story they weren't going to have time to get into, which made Allison kind of sad. She was genuinely curious.
War. The giant yellow robot said it so nonchalantly that it took her by surprise. Alison hadn't yet deeply contemplated what exactly had caused her new robot acquaintances to flee their home planet outside of poor resource management but it was very clear that something deeply troubling had pushed them out into space. She couldn't even comprehend what a war between beings of such scale could even be like.
She shouldn't have been surprised. Such was the story of her own species, told over and over again over thousands of years.
"Decepticons." She muttered the word instinctively. Bumblebee nodded solemnly and Allison realized they were getting into very personal territory, and wondered how she could ask for more details before Bumblebee announced that they had arrived at their destination.
Sure enough, they stopped at what was probably one of the most beautiful waterfalls Allison had ever seen. It was low and wide, a thundering channel of water falling off a stout rocky slope surrounded by the mossy overhang of the trees above. The water spray cooled her face and almost made her forget how severe Bumblebee's tone had become. She also didn't want to really face what he was probably trying to get across: it's not safe. He's not safe.
The roar and spray of the water was a good distraction from the robot standing behind her, because it felt familiar. It was like an anchor Allison could focus on to try and hang on to a shred of common sense in her predicament. The Decepticons were coming for them, and they were going to bring their war with them. These Autobots were refugees on a planet that was alien to them. She didn't need to be thrown into the mix of this.
"He won't talk about it, but I'm sure you've noticed his mask. He's never retracted it as long as I've known him." Bumblebee's voice sounded distant, and it took a beat for her to realize he had crouched low behind her again, closer than she realized. She wondered if it was a subconscious effort to appear smaller to her. Wheeljack had done it when she was a child.
"I… noticed. Wasn't sure if that was just him, or if there was a reason."
"Damage, a long time ago. Either self-inflicted or a Decepticon attack. He's never really shared with anyone." Bumblebee tapped at his own face. "It's a battle mask. We all have them." The thought crossed Allison's mind that there was something symbolic in that concept, like Wheeljack was in a constant state of fight or flight; self-inflicted punishment, or a reminder that they were never truly safe. She also couldn't imagine having a literal component of your body have the singular purpose of being ready for war. In Wheeljack's case, that state of mind was never really turned off. No wonder he sounded so on edge every time she spoke to him.
The conversation suddenly felt very intense, and Allison wasn't really sure she liked where it was headed. She was learning more about Wheeljack in such a short conversation with Bumblebee than she was probably ever going to learn talking to him directly. This was probably her only opportunity to learn something about him since she would likely never see him again, but something about it felt intrusive. It felt like she was invading his privacy.
"He was… really sweet to me, when I was a kid. I think that's why I thought about him for so long and refused to let go." Allison let out a breath, realizing she'd never really had the opportunity to admit that to anyone. It sounded crazy, especially considering the intent of therapy had been for her to let go. "When I saw him again, he was different. Maybe it's because I was different."
"Well, have you asked him about it?" Bumblebee's question was direct, and obvious, so much so that Allison almost rolled her eyes. Gosh, why didn't she think of that.
"I've barely seen him since I've been here. Honestly I think he's avoiding me." Allison laughed again, this time the action sounding bitter in her throat. She wasn't trying to be spiteful, considering what she had learned so far. There was a lot to absorb and think about, because she would never understand the experiences of being a nearly ageless, giant robot alien: one that was a refugee on a foreign planet and forced to live off humanity's scraps while constantly in fear of the opposing side of the war coming to find you. Of course she was probably the last thing on Wheeljack's mind.
"Oh," Bumblebee said, grimly. She heard him shift uncomfortably behind her. "That really doesn't sound like him. I'm sorry you've been dragged into this."
"I wouldn't have been, had I not been nosey I guess," Allison finally turned to face him, surprised to see him mimicking an action that almost looked like he was wrinkling his nose. It would have almost been cute, if not for the scowl on his lips. "Now, about that question I get to ask you now. I hope this isn't out of line…"
Bumblebee's expression changed, almost as if he was anticipating what she was about to ask. He looked less disgusted and more welcoming, despite the fact Allison still had to tilt her head up to look at him. He had to know that such an inquiry was burning a hole in her mind.
"So, where does the name Bumblebee come from?" His shoulders sagged almost immediately with a venting of air, but he was smiling in confirmation that this was indeed what he was anticipating.
"My name isn't actually Bumblebee. It's something Sideswipe started calling me, and it just kind of stuck I guess."
"Was it because of the colors?" Allison asked, not wanting to point at him thinking it might be rude. She assumed he'd know what she meant anyway.
"No, actually. It's more of a joke I guess I decided to wear as a badge of honor." He was smirking now, and Allison wondered what sort of joke would lead to him being named after an insect native to a planet that was alien to them. "On my first patrol shortly after we woke up from stasis, we still knew very little about the planet and what to expect. I didn't see the beehive until it was too late." Bumblebee pointed at his head, or more specifically at one of his horns. "It got stuck, and as you can imagine, the… bees didn't care for that too much."
"A rite of passage I guess." Allison meant it as a joke, but that was closer to the truth than she realized.
"Sideswipe thought so. He thought it was hilarious, so that's what he started calling me. I guess it's payback for making him help me pick bees out of the seams of my armor for days. And before you ask, yes they stung me. A lot. And I could definitely feel it." He shuddered, recalling what was probably an unpleasant memory. "Trees and I haven't really gotten along since. When you spend your life always being smaller than everyone else, you get used to not having to watch your head."
Allison couldn't really understand what he meant by that, because it sounded absurd, but she guessed he was trying to say that he walked into trees. Often, by the sounds of it. Such a small detail humanized him a little bit, for lack of a better term. It gave her a better understanding of who he was, having such a silly trait as being clumsy when it came to making sure you didn't get a branch to the face.
The rest of the walk was thankfully uneventful, as much as a walk with a giant robot in an unfamiliar forest could be. They spent a lot of time near that waterfall, before Bumblebee started to seem fidgety, as if he didn't want to stay in the same place for too long. She noticed he kept glancing upwards, again, as if he was looking for something; possibly human aircraft, which posed a threat to them with the possibility of exposure. Maybe that was why he turned to more surface-level conversation, as if he was trying not to overwhelm her. Allison didn't mind the more casual topics, because it helped to distract her from the bigger questions that were on her mind. How does one ask how they went to war? What was that like? Instead, the comfort of casual niceties was so human and disarming, that Allison almost forgot she was talking to an alien robot. In the process, he organically learned more about her and what she did in life; where she worked, and lived, and normally telling so much to a "stranger" would have given her pause. Talking to Bumblebee however, felt more like a conversation between friends, even if he was a little more sheltered about the information he gave her. In a way she understood, because she was not the one on an unfamiliar planet under the constant looming threat of discovery. As strange as it sounded, she held considerably more power in her situation than she realized. Bumblebee was probably still in the process of determining how much he could trust her, considering she held the very powerful weapon of information. As far as he knew, she would tell the authorities as soon as she got home.
That absolutely was not happening of course.
It wasn't until it started getting dark that Allison realized how long they'd been out, and with that discovery came the reminder that it was time for her to go home. Less appealing, it was time to face Wheeljack again, because she'd had the opportunity to forget about his neglect, even for a little while. She wasn't a child that needed attention, but Ratchet implying that she was going to be put back like she was a discarded grocery item that someone had changed their mind on did little for the soul. Especially considering that Bumblebee seemed to go out of his way to make sure she didn't feel alone. Allison found him charming compared to all the worrying of Wheeljack and Ratchet as if they were fueled on stress alone. If Allison's presence was a bother or a point of consternation for the Autobots (which realistically, she knew it was), Bumblebee didn't show it. Out of all of them, Bumblebee seemed the easiest to adapt to the situation.
As if on queue, Bumblebee spoke after falling quiet for a few moments.
"We should go back. Wheeljack isn't happy…"
"Why?" She guessed that knowledge came from whatever internal communication capabilities they had.
"Don't worry about it," Bumblebee frowned. "But I guess it is time for you to go home." The statement held a finality to it, and Allison wondered if she'd ever see him again after this.
As they returned to the familiar path back, Bumblebee made a noise that sounded like he was clearing his throat. It was interesting to hear what sounded like emotional tics in their conversation. "Thank you for walking with me. I enjoyed talking to you." The confession sounded so uncertain and hesitant, that Allison almost laughed out of her own discomfort because she wasn't sure why he was thanking her.
"I appreciate you trying to keep me busy, even if that wasn't your intent. I might not have been able to stand being stuck in that room with Ratchet any longer." Bumblebee laughed, amused by her comment. "It was fun." Allison sighed, looking up just in time to see that they were walking towards a solid rock-face and feeling suddenly confused. Glancing around her, this area looked like where she'd first walked outside, but instead of an opening she saw solid rock.
Bumblebee noticed her pause, and turned to face her. "It's a hologram," he said simply, waving his hand through where the opening should have been. The rock rippled and fragmented into a kaleidoscope of colors around his passing arm, the very convincing facsimile appearing transparent where the presence of what Allison had thought was rock smeared in the wake of his movement. The visual was completely disorienting, and it hurt her eyes to watch because her brain was struggling to process what she was looking at.
She really wanted to go home now.
Even worse, she could hear Wheeljack's voice arguing with Ratchet on the other side. Bumblebee's pathetic look of sympathy could have been because he heard it too, or because he was waiting for her to fearfully, and awkwardly feel her way through the visage of fake rock when every neuron in her brain was telling her what she was doing was impossible.
The incessant chatter of the Autobots on the other side didn't help her concentrate on what she was doing, so she stumbled in just in time to hear the tail end of their conversation…
"—Sometimes I really despise you, Wheeljack," Ratchet's snarl sounded genuinely angry this time, a contrast to what had seemed like grumpy banter between a couple of old friends earlier. The general temperature of the room was made even worse by the fact that they both turned to look at them once they returned through the threshold. Allison spared a second to look back, noted that she could see outside clear as day as if the hologram wasn't even there, then whipped around once she heard Wheeljack approach.
"The feeling's mutual—" Wheeljack didn't even give Ratchet the courtesy of looking at him as he turned to stomp towards them, the words biting. Ratchet crossed his arms across his chest, unfazed by the very rude-looking gesture Wheeljack gave him as he threw his hand over his shoulder. It wasn't a human gesture, but the intent behind it sure felt the same. "Where have you two been?" The anger behind his words was almost palpable, so much so that the panels on his head actually didn't blink when he spoke. Allison wasn't sure how she knew, but she was convinced that was a bad sign.
Objectively anyone in these circumstances would have been fearful—terrified even—because Wheeljack wasn't making any effort to appear small, but Allison didn't react. She was more worried that she'd gotten Bumblebee in trouble, even though Ratchet had been the one to suggest that she go outside. The speed in which Bumblebee stepped between them was almost imperceptible, because he was suddenly there in front of her, blocking her view of Wheeljack like a wall. She wasn't sure what was going on between them right now, but she wanted no part in it.
"I'll… go get my granola," Allison muttered quietly, finding the courage to retrace their earlier steps out of whatever sort of cargo bay this was back to where she remembered the infirmary to be. Almost immediately Ratchet intercepted her, not to stop her, but perhaps to usher her out of the room as quickly as possible. An emotion rushed through her that was hard to interpret, but it prickled at the back of her neck.
"I'll help you pack," the crude timing of Ratchet's joke was so absurd that it had to have been intentional. "Ignore Wheeljack, he's angry at me."
"It's fine," Allison said, not really sure where he was going with this. She wasn't sure if she was offended at the joke or not, considering it was objectively a stupid comment, but that almost made it more hilarious. Everything about this was suddenly hilarious .
Until it suddenly didn't feel hilarious anymore, and Allison stopped. She hadn't been paying attention to where she was going, but her feet somehow still carried her right back into the room she'd slept in. "Please stop treating me like I'm some sort of inanimate object you're all passing around trying not to break. I understand I shouldn't be here. I don't want to be here anymore than you want me here. So let's get on with it." Allison kept walking, and was surprised she didn't hear Ratchet say anything in response, which was what she was expecting. "I'll just get my granola and go, you don't need it." She mumbled, suddenly feeling stupid.
Ratchet, who was still standing in the doorway staring at her, actually laughed then. It was an honest, genuine laugh, and Allison wasn't sure what was funny.
"You're right," he finally said.
"About the granola?" Now she had to figure out how to get back up onto the shelf. Getting down was one thing, but climbing back up was going to be another, considering she couldn't find anything to use.
"No, about that other part," Ratchet's sudden proximity to her person made her jump, as he'd somehow approached without her noticing. She'd gotten too focused on her task at hand to hear him walk towards her. Carefully, he pulled something off the shelf that was out of sight, before kneeling down to hand it to her. It was the bag of granola. Seeing something so mundane and out of place, a gesture from Wheeljack, made Allison suddenly feel so stupid and alone. "That doesn't change the fact that this is no place for a human. It's too dangerous." Taking the bag out of his hand, she finally managed to look up at him. Gone was the annoyed expression of worry that had been on his face the entirety of the short time she'd known him, but rather a calm understanding. It was… respectful even. She had to be okay with that.
"I know. Thank you. For what you did." Allison didn't expect a response, but she got a gentle rumble of confirmation from Ratchet anyway. That was as good as she was going to get from him, and it was enough.
In a way, it was sort of like a goodbye.
Following Ratchet back out to where Bumblebee was still squaring off with Wheeljack, the first thing she noticed was that Wheeljack's posture had changed. He looked more calm. They were still speaking in a very tense, restrained manner, but that stopped as soon as she and Ratchet returned. She'd probably never know why Wheeljack had been so angry, but it didn't matter. It was time to go.
Ratchet was the first to speak, thankfully staving off any further awkwardness from the dead silence that now permeated the room. "Remember, the remaining traces of energon removed from your body should decay in a few days. For now, you have no signature on you, so that's all that matters."
"And what happens if I start to feel funny? I can't just call you."
"We'll know."
"Creepy, but okay."
"Look—" Suddenly, Wheeljack was hovering just above her head and it made her jump, again, because she hadn't been expecting him to suddenly be so close. How they moved so quickly into her space without her noticing was alarming at best, and probably very concerning at worst. "Anything significant would have happened by now—probably —but if anything happens we'll take care of it. Ratchet will check you out when your head is healed." Wheeljack wasn't exactly inspiring confidence, but Allison didn't have a choice. All she could do was trust them.
"So… it's maybe obvious to say, but I'm not going to tell anyone about anything I saw." It felt incredibly important to say and get out in the open so they didn't get the wrong idea. Their silence was confirmation enough. Allison nodded, looking down at the ground. Dragging this on was pointless, and she just wanted to go home. Her shower and bed were calling to her, and she just wanted to be alone with her thoughts.
Seemingly satisfied, Wheeljack stood up again and gave her some distance. Allison assumed she was just going to follow him, but truthfully she hadn't put a lot of thought into how he was going to take her home this far from the city. That was until he started changing shape.
It was such a sudden and fast explosion of motion that Allison wasn't sure what she was looking at initially, until it became clear to her what was happening. What she had previously assumed to somehow be possible was correct. Wheeljack was that car from the video, the same car that was suddenly there once she turned back from her father's voice in that old power facility. It was structured, organized chaos, the way he seemingly collapsed into himself towards the ground as different parts of his body shifted and rolled into place with a clatter of electric noise. Where Wheeljack had stood not seconds earlier, there was now a white car—a muscle car that had the same irregular pattern of red and green that had just been on his body. It took only a few seconds to realize he was different from what she remembered the night they first met, but still similar enough that it was obviously the same Wheeljack. Presumably that meant they could change or make adjustments to what they transformed into.
Then without a word, it—he—moved, the action eerily silent save for the otherworldly revving of something that sounded too quiet to be an engine for a car of this size. The door opened, the action automatic and obvious in intent. He wanted her to get in.
"Absolutely not." Allison had tolerated a lot thus far on her journey, but something about this felt like a step too far. It went so far beyond her comfort zone it somehow felt like an invasion of privacy for him. "I'd rather hitchhike." If he thought she was going to sit inside him for however many hours it was going to take to get home, then he was stupider than she thought.
"Don't be ridiculous. Get in." Wheeljack's voice emanated from the car somehow. It wasn't distorted or digitized like she would expect if it were coming out of a speaker system. It was just coming from him, clear as he had been speaking to her not moments before. The fact that his face, or even his head, were nowhere to be seen didn't make it any easier to accept.
"I'm not sitting inside you." If Ratchet or Bumblebee felt any type of way about this, they weren't saying anything.
"Don't think about it, and just get. In." She could tell Wheeljack was getting impatient because the sound of his… engine revved just slightly. "Besides, you were already inside me once, how do you think I got you here?" Allison wanted to shrivel up and die right then and there. He had to have been teasing her on purpose, there was no other explanation.
Allison was in the midst of scheming how she was going to get around Wheeljack as a car without getting run over in his haste to catch her. "I assume you can all do that?" It was a stupid question on its face, because the answer had already been obvious from the start. This was apparently just something they could do. She supposed it explained how Wheeljack could get around and take things so easily.
"Yeah, we can." It was Bumblebee who spoke this time. "If it makes you feel any better there are some Cybertronians who transport other Cybertronians. It's really not weird to us." Allison's mind could already barely deal with the size of these robots, let alone the notion that some of them were apparently big enough to fit others inside. "That's not even the biggest of us. In fact—"
"Ah, let's not overdo it." Ratchet raised a hand to get Bumblebee's attention. "I think Alison's processing unit has already been overburdened enough. Let's try not to break it. I think we've done enough damage to it." He caught himself, adding, "Ah, figuratively speaking."
Alison looked from Ratchet to Wheeljack and sighed, shaking her head. "You're not going to…transform while I'm in there are you?" She was feeling really nervous about this, and she wasn't sure why.
The mechanisms inside Wheeljack that sounded like an engine rumbled softly, and it sounded disturbingly like a purr. It sounded smug somehow. "If it came to an emergency like that, I'd catch ya."
Ratchet made a noise that sounded like a cough. "You sure about that?" He wasn't specific, but Allison knew what he was referring to anyway. So far Wheeljack's catching skills were questionable at best.
"Just get in." While the command was obvious, and Allison knew that she was wasting his time, he sounded more exasperated than annoyed now. Steeling her nerve, she glanced one last time back at the other two Autobots in the room as a way of final goodbyes. Ratchet watched her silently, but his deeply blue eyes were glowing with a soft acknowledgment of finality. Bumblebee waved quietly, the action gentle and hesitant as she waved back.
Allison sighed again as an act of hyping herself up for what she was about to do. Wheeljack's door was still open and waiting, and she noted it was the passenger door if he were a real car. That suited her just fine. Sitting in the "driver's seat" felt like the last straw. Climbing in she kept her body small, tucking into herself for fear of touching things she shouldn't. It was warm. He was warm, and it was an unwelcome reminder of the fact that she was sitting inside something alive. Her mind rushed with thoughts of whether the temperature was something he had done specifically for her or if he was always like this. There was no aroma to the interior, just a clean absence of scent that still somehow managed to feel electrically charged to her senses. There was energy everywhere, and Allison tried not to focus on the uncanny feeling of life, but alien and unfamiliar. Instinctively, she went to reach for the door, realized all too late that there was no handle once it closed on its own, startling her. She was technically trapped with no way to open the door on her own, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that.
Oddly enough there was a steering wheel, but aside from seats, that was essentially where the similarities ended with a human-made vehicle. In a way it made sense. Wheeljack had no need for buttons and knobs, and if he never intended to have a human as a passenger he probably only needed the bare minimum to keep up appearances if a human strayed close enough.
Before she could really come to grips with what was happening, Wheeljack was already moving. The same gentle revving she had heard standing on the outside was omnipresent in the interior, like an ever-present humming that ebbed and flowed in intensity as he moved. There was an undercurrent below the noise that was rhythmic and thumping, and it made her wonder how much of it was him versus whatever technology he was born from.
"What is that noise?" Before Allison could really think about what she was asking, the question fell out of her lips before she could stop it. She was so distracted with the idea of looking for a seatbelt out of pure instinct that she wasn't even thinking if it would be a bad question to ask him.
"My spark."
She had no idea what that meant, but as Wheeljack didn't elaborate she didn't question it further.
"Should I, ah…buckle up? You know… a seatbelt." They had already left the hologram of the entrance behind, and out onto an unfamiliar road. Allison wondered if this was the same route he had taken to bring her here.
"If we run into anything big enough to take me out, a seatbelt will be the least of your worries." Wheeljack said, though there was a thread of sarcasm in his voice that Allison had come to know all too well. Then it sounded like he sighed, a ripple of movement passing through the car-shape of his body that made Allison retreat into herself just a little bit further. "Will it make you more comfortable with one? Never needed to transport organics before so I don't got much to work with…"
"It's… fine," Allison said impulsively, not wanting to go down this thread of a conversation anymore. Presumably Wheeljack was smarter than the average human driver and would not be irresponsible enough to run into something much less let someone run into him. She was not looking forward to the possibility of several hours worth of silence either. She assumed Wheeljack knew the general way he was going, but eventually she'd need to tell him exactly where home was (unless he somehow already knew, and at this point she wouldn't be surprised by that). Looking outside, the dense forest was eerie and still, the first threads of sunset trickling through the canopy and dappling the road. It was beautiful in of itself, almost its own little alien planet from the noise and chaos of the concrete and metal jungle she lived in.
Soon enough, Allison became hyper aware of her very existence in the silence of being transported like cargo. Wheeljack clearly wasn't in the mood to talk, and the misery of that didn't escape her. She reasoned that it probably served her right to be disappointed in his lack of acceptance towards her, after harboring such selfish feelings growing up. She watched the age-worn trees, thick and draped with carpets of moss, wondering if she should say something to break the agonizing quiet.
"I see you kept the accent." It seemed like something harmless enough to bring up, a not-so-subtle reminder of the first time they met; what was a more pleasant time, at least for her.
For a moment Wheeljack didn't respond, and she wondered not for the first time if she'd offended him, until she felt a familiar rush of energy as if he was about to speak.
"You keep bringing up my voice, and I can't figure out why that upsets you so much." What she had intended as light-hearted banter had clearly fallen flat, as he wasn't following her thread of logic. Allison wasn't sure what she expected. Feeling defeated and frustrated with yet another failed attempt at conversation, she thought about what she wanted to say. It didn't upset her, and she wasn't sure why they kept falling into antagonized discourse, or why she kept trying to push his buttons. If Allison didn't know any better, she'd think she was intentionally trying to provoke a reaction out of him. She wanted something.
Leave it alone , Allison told herself. You're stuck here for longer than you want to be . He also could quite literally kill her in the blink of an eye, so there was that to consider too.
"It doesn't… I just… like it I guess. Nevermind." Allison wasn't sure if Wheeljack heard her mumble, but she felt a subtle wobble in the energy in the air that might have been a reaction. She couldn't really explain her feelings on the matter, or why she fixated on it so much. Maybe it was the idea that such a large, potentially dangerous alien robot speaking with a New York drawl was crazy because it was very human. The fact that Wheeljack had chosen to speak that way despite it initially being a mistake meant that he was choosing not to correct it. Maybe the accent suited him, but Allison didn't deny that she found it kind of… sweet. It gave him character.
There was no way in hell she was going to tell him that, so she let the topic go and fell back into silence. Instead she went back to focusing on the wilderness outside and tried to recall other memories from times she spent in the mountains that did not involve Wheeljack. She found herself growing homesick for her childhood home, more rural and out in the countryside. Maybe after she found her footing she would spend some time back home with her dad. She could use that familiarity right now.
Of course, Allison wasn't going to tell him about any of this. If he learned that everything she put him through growing up hadn't been because of a dangerous daydream after all, that could very well break him. This was going to be her secret. One that she would likely take to the grave with her, at this rate possibly sooner than she thought.
/
A/N: Just a couple little notes that are maybe slightly spoilery:
-The human will not get powers. Don't care for that angle much. The "accident" is more of a driver to get pieces moving, and while the energon will come up from time to time as a "problem" it will not be giving anyone special abilities.
-Any fluffiness or affection is purely platonic. I will probably mention things like "sparkbonds" but I don't mean for it to be anything romantic. I am a sucker for fluff though, so that I can't resist.
-I've made up a lot of lore details here and there just to fit in with my own headspace, so this isn't meant to fall into any particular TF "universe."
-Just for the sake of ease for myself, Cybertronians do have a gender spectrum, and the main cast at the moment are all he/him.
-They absolutely will stop being so antagonistic to each other very soon.
-This is a re-telling of the other stories on my profile, which remain unfinished, They were first written a very long time ago, and have not aged well for my personal tastes. I wasn't happy with a lot of what I'd written, and I had new ideas, so I figured I would start over and see where it went. I may take a few elements here and there from them, but you don't need to have read them to understand what's going on here.