20. Good Cop, Bad Cop
Having Optimus Prime and Prowl back and safe amongst the Autobot crew was supposed to be a morale boost for the team. Prowl's intense oversight for the sake of unity and Prime's steadfast leadership were always a consistent state of their existence and there was some comfort in being made whole again. That was the way it should be, but Wheeljack wondered why he found himself standing in the Chief Security Officer's personal surveillance room wishing they were still out of communication range. At least he wouldn't have to endure all the reminders of everything he'd done wrong that last… well, deca-cycles.
"I expect careless insubordination from you," Prowl was standing behind his desk, stiff and humorless as ever, pointing a very accusatory finger right at Wheeljack's face. "But this is complete negligence that I wouldn't even expect from the twins!" The grimace of disgust on the Autobot's face was something Wheeljack was used to, but this time it stung a little bit more than usual.
"I did what I had to do," Wheeljack repeated, adamant in… most of his decisions. He would not apologize for going behind their backs to keep their energon supply at a functioning capacity. Someone had to do it, and it was only ever going to be him.
That probably wasn't what Prowl was referring to though. At least not entirely.
With a sudden snarl, Prowl slammed both of his hands on the desk, disturbing several data pads and an empty energon cube. It was actually impressive how frightening he would have looked to a bot who was not already used to getting chewed out. Wheeljack was not impressed. Prowl's hollow threats as a reaction to his misadventures had become background noise a long time ago.
"Stealing from the native species is not the proper protocol for energon management, and you know that. Chain of command exists for a reason. We are not in a position to take risks!" Regrettably, the actual logic behind Prowl's complaining was sound. He wasn't technically wrong. The truth was the Autobots were never in a position to take risks, but if Wheeljack hadn't acted on a need they would have been doomed anyway.
"What would you have suggested then? Mail a note to what's left of the Autobot command on Cybertron? Send energon, almost dead, details later? "
"That—" Prowl was breaking. He knew this was all ceremony and pointless. Wheeljack didn't begrudge him this opportunity, though. It was the only thing he had left to feel useful in their forced isolation. His position and efforts kept them safe in ways that Teletraan-1 could not, and that was admirable. But sometimes the Autobot took that position too seriously which inevitably led to conflict. He was stubborn, but his spark had their best interests in mind.
"What space bridge would we transport supplies on? We don't even have a working ground bridge in this junk of a ship. At least I had the bearings to take the risk to protect us."
"Your risk jeopardized our very existence on this planet." Prowl stood, panels flaring in distress as he placed a hand on his helm in weary acceptance. "I've been over your methods multiple times and there are several exposure points that could have caused serious problems."
Wheeljack scoffed, annoyed and slightly offended. "What credentials give you the expertise to review my methods objectively?" Something darkened in his spark, because his ego wasn't that inflated. Wheeljack was well aware of the liabilities but he had always operated with the acceptance that the downsides were worth the payoff: that being their survival. But Prowl was no expert, so to think he actually understood what he was analyzing was laughable at best.
Prowl however, was not convinced, his optics narrowing with a flare of whitened anger. "You gambled with the danger of revealing our presence every time you set foot in one of those facilities. The fact that they only caught your alt-mode is a Primus damned miracle." Wheeljack flinched. Prowl knew about that. Of course he did. His voice was rising again, the briefly cooled temper becoming alight once more as the escalating acts of recklessness were brought forward for review.
"An oversight. One that was corrected."
"Oversights can get us killed." Leaning forward again, Prowl was braced against his desk with a changed expression that was not uncommon: it was an emotionless mask that often made him appear unapproachable and unempathetic to those who were lucky enough to be on the receiving end. "Not to mention all of the deficiencies in your little venture that left opportunities for you to leave traces of your meddling for the humans to detect." Despite all of Wheeljack's annoyance and disregard for Prowl's posturing he knew that it was a defense mechanism. The horrors he'd seen were incalculable. More than most. His position afforded him the unenviable privilege of being the first to witness the consequences of breaches in fortification. The failure of that typically meant a lot of bodies. Many of them on his watch, and he internalized those failings to his own detriment. The rare occasions when Prowl loosened up on high-grade were… enlightening.
"My algorithms were in no danger of detection. Humans don't have the technology to be able to identify the voltage patterns of energon." Wheeljack still believed that.
"We can't rely on this species not understanding what they're seeing forever. You went into this completely blind. What if you had taken out the entire western seaboard of this continent? On two occasions, you did leave evidence of your presence." Prowl's shoulders sagged, a true indicator of his acceptance that he completely lacked control of the situation. This was predictably where the conversation was headed, and Wheeljack was waiting for it.
"Technically… I didn't leave anything behind." He knew he was being pedantic and insufferable, but he was not in the mood to discuss the ramifications of what his actions had really led to.
"Crushed structures, impact damage, electrical burns, rubble–just to name a few anomalies in your wake. You call that nothing?" There was a pause, then a heavy venting of air from the Autobot opposite Wheeljack on the other side of the desk. Prowl's expression turned dour. "And yet, incredibly enough this isn't the worst thing you've done."
"You're gonna have to be more specific, Prowl," Wheeljack said, folding his arms across his chassis. He knew exactly what the Autobot was referring to, but he wanted him to say it. "I've done a lot of things during my time here." Prowl's hand dropped heavily to his side as he stiffened, optics flickering with disbelief before he turned his embittered gaze on Optimus Prime. The Autobot leader was standing on the side of the room, merely a spectator to Wheeljack's dressing down with a disapproving expression on his face. Prime's brow often told much of his state of mind, and right now the plates were knitted so tightly his normally radiant optics were darkened and narrow. That was worse than being on Prowl's scrap list.
"The human, Wheeljack." Optimus said gently, but there was a soft wavering of anger in the lower register of his vocals. It was the type of anger that told you he was so thoroughly disappointed in every one of your choices laid out on the examination table, because he knew that you knew better.
"She has a name," Wheeljack corrected, and was met with a slight uplifting of the brow from Optimus that turned into something more somber and understanding. "And none of that was intentional."
"You brought a human into our midst, with no regard for our secrecy or survival," Prowl interjected. Wheeljack felt a sudden bristle against his circuits. They went over this already and he didn't understand why he was explaining this again. "Or the human's safety. And she found you without any technology to 'detect voltage patterns in energon' So you can't keep using that as an excuse."
"I had no choice. She was…" He stopped. Choosing to compartmentalize that particular memory forever made it roar to the forefront of his visual mind now that he was being asked to recount it. Again. The recollection of watching Allison's small, human body hitting the ground was a biting reminder of all the lies he was telling himself to try and make it better; that he hadn't screwed up so spectacularly. "I already told you everything over the comms."
"I fear you are leaving out crucial details," Optimus said, stepping from the wall to circle behind Wheeljack like he was being appraised. He could feel the Autobot's leader's gaze on his back, the discontent and anger radiating off of him in restrained wobbles of controlled resonance. Optimus was mad. Really mad. It made Wheeljack feel terrible. "Start… from the beginning."
Wheeljack vented air heavily. Optimus saw right through him, because he did leave out a lot of important details: most notably that the instigating event in question was not the first time he encountered Allison.
"Fine, since you asked so nicely." The arms folded across Wheeljack's chassis tightened reflexively. "One of my first attempts at energon production I was spotted." With Optimus now standing next to Prowl he could see it on their collective expressions that they were both going to unload on him any second. So he didn't give them the opportunity. "It was a human child. A little female child to be more specific."
It was clear that Optimus understood right away what Wheeljack was insinuating but Prowl wasn't catching on. "By spotted I assume you mean while discreet in your alt-mode, correct?"
"Eh, no, not exactly." Wheeljack could already see the reply about to exit Prowl's mouth. "She was a child. She wasn't exactly interested in discussing proper protocol. She was more… ah, excited to see me." That hurt. It really did. But not more than what followed.
"You spoke to this child?" The question was innocent and gentle enough, but Wheeljack could tell that Optimus was still pissed.
"I spoke to her for a little while. She was in distress, and she…" Wheeljack paused. "You do realize that Allison was that child, right?"
"I am getting that impression, yes." Optimus looked down his shoulder at Prowl, who was watching him in disbelief.
"After her father came to retrieve her—no, he didn't see me—I left." Wheeljack averted his optics. "I… hung around for a while and would check in on her. To make sure it was safe. She never saw me."
"Well apparently she remembered enough to find you without sophisticated scanning or tracking equipment. How completely careless." Prowl scoffed, waving a hand in the air dismissively. "I should throw you in the brig for this."
Wheeljack was about to dare Prowl to do just that until he saw the expression of annoyingly pure understanding on Optimus Prime's face. He wasn't just looking at Wheeljack, his formerly tense brown now relaxed, opening his optics into welcoming pools of empathy. He was looking straight into Wheeljack's very essence, seeing straight through him to his spark and he loathed that. Optimus knew he cared for Allison.
Raising a hand to try and soothe Prowl's unyielding temper, Optimus finally spoke again. "You would not have brought her here without reason."
"I told you, she was injured. Because of me." Primus, he hated to admit it. "...I needed Ratchet."
"I understand." Reading into what Optimus wasn't verbally saying, it was obvious what he was implying. He understood every single one of Wheeljack's motivations: Why he bothered to stick around and speak to that small little human so many cycles ago. Why he continued to watch her for cycles more, without her being aware of his presence. Why he approached her voluntarily when she found him again, when he should have stayed hidden and slipped away. Why he risked their very existence by bringing her to the Ark.
He'd had no choice. He cared too much and now because of him she was in very real danger. They were all in danger.
"Because of your actions," Prowl ground out. "This human is now a liability beyond anything we could ever comprehend. A civilian, non-combatant organic entity has no place in our conflict, and now we have the added complication of an energon anomaly that not even you understand."
"I know," Wheeljack finally admitted. He was mad at Prowl, and his insufferable lack of empathy—or more accurately, his clinical analysis of every situation to avoid having to feel anything at all. But above all of that, he was mad at Prowl because he was right.
"None of us could have prepared or trained for anything that would happen on this planet," Optimus said, gently. "We knew there would be complications we could not predict."
"She's not just a complication," Wheeljack said, sullenly. His spark churned anxiously.
"I am not implying that, Wheeljack. But it is unfortunately a fact that her situation itself is complicated, even for her." He looked over towards Prowl. "And it is on us to adapt to this scenario, and rise to meet it."
"The human will become a victim, and I—we cannot—" Prowl's mask finally slipped fully, the distress that would normally be carefully coiled deep within him breaking loose on his face. It made it all a little more real.
"Which is why it is now our responsibility to protect this human from the Decepticon threat that we now know is here." Optimus interjected, his voice softening. Wheeljack almost wanted him to be angry still, because that would have made things so much easier. "Their awareness of her will only bring her suffering and I cannot allow that." The Autobot leader stepped around the desk to place a hand on Wheeljack's shoulder, squeezing with resolve. He tensed under such gentle, careful consideration, because did he really deserve it?
"Prime …" Prowl dissented. Clearly Wheeljack's internalized suffering was not enough.
Tilting his head in Prowl's direction, Optimus kept his optics on Wheeljack for effect. "What's done is done. We cannot change the past. I trust that our science officer did what he felt was right." Wheeljack could only nod, feeling ashamed and slightly defeated. "Do you remember Prowl, that our reconnaissance of the human revealed little in the way of possible dangers?"
Surprised, Wheeljack looked up at the Autobot leader. "You were watching her?" Optimus nodded. "She's not stupid. I bet she clocked you two immediately." For some reason Optimus seemed to find that amusing. His optics practically lit up with mirth.
"I would need to question the human further to ascertain their true motives." Prowl said with a frown.
"Then perhaps it is time Wheeljack introduces us to his special friend."
Wheeljack didn't return that day, so Allison ate her bribery pancakes alone and walked back to the hotel room. After the harrowing conversation with Agent Fowler, Allison found that she wasn't really in the mood to explore the town further. The last thing she wanted was to run into him again and have to endure further conversation. Every interaction felt like a risk. Something was going to give sooner or later so the less she saw of him the better.
Once she was rid of his presence she was finally able to flip her phone over and read Wheeljack's message. It was vague, and didn't reveal much about his whereabouts, just that he had something to take care of. The insatiable pull to question him further, or to just talk to him had to be resisted, but she did immediately notify him about Agent Fowler's impromptu visit. It still felt a little too convenient—too dangerous—but Wheeljack didn't acknowledge it. Apparently he didn't find it as much of a pressing issue as she did. She trusted that he knew what he was doing so she left it alone.
The rest of the day was uneventful for Allison, who spent the remaining hours laying on the springy motel bed staring up at the ceiling. Now that she had what she wanted, which was time to herself, she realized she didn't really have any good way to spend it. Remembering that she'd brought a laptop with her (and finally having the ability to charge it, along with her phone) she willed away the hours watching stupid videos on the Internet until she became aware of the fact that the room had gone dark. The bright, LED screen was the only source of light blasting into her face and she'd become so zombified by the brain rot she'd lost track of time.
With that, night fell quicker than she expected. Despite the blankets being a little on the thin side, she had a surprisingly restful sleep.
When day broke, she relished in the luxury of sleeping in without an obnoxiously persistent Wheeljack buzzing her phone. Her bladder finally forced her to crawl out of bed and into the air conditioning, the floor cold underneath her feet. The free complimentary coffee in the lobby breakfast nook was passable, if not a little sour but it would serve its purpose of checking off that particular morning box. Taking a seat by the window, she rubbed at her eyes with the heels of her palms, trying to figure out what to do with herself. Right now, she was just waiting. Waiting for Wheeljack. Waiting for death. Whichever came first. She half expected Agent Fowler to waltz into the motel lobby proclaiming he just happened to be staying there too.
It wasn't until around 11AM that Allison decided to gather up the courage to go for a little walk. After a long shower and a change of clothes, she gathered her bag of personal items and hoisted it over her shoulder. Sitting with her laptop in the bakery was a reasonable use of her time, and she could stress eat some more while she still had the funds to do so. There were more mindless Internet videos to catch up on, because she was so behind. Exiting her room, the door locked in place behind her as it shut. She patted her pocket, making absolutely sure she had her room key with her, and then stepped away.
Standing on the parking lot sidewalk for a moment, Allison looked around to get her bearings. The parking lot was still empty, so there were no suspicious vehicles hanging around watching her. She doubted she would recognize any Decepticon hazards before it was too late, but that didn't stop her from being cautious. The spring air was bracing, and it felt like it was going to rain again despite the small sliver of sun peeking out from behind backlit gray clouds. Her stomach rumbling finally got her moving, so she stepped off the pavement into the gravely lot to head towards the road.
It had rained overnight, the road slightly flooded and Allison found herself sidestepping several puddles as she walked. The air smelled nice, like fresh moist pine, but she still wrinkled her nose when her boots splashed in muddy water she couldn't avoid.
A small alleyway to Allison's right would allow her to cut through to the other side of the block back onto main street, where it was only a short walk to the bakery. She passed between an old book store and a donut shop through the narrow passage. Colorful graffiti adorned both walls, covering the donut store's mascot with various signatures and slogans. She passed through the alley onto the sidewalk of the main road which faced the pharmacy on the other side.
Both the daydreaming about pastries and the pace of her own feet were immediately halted in their tracks as she turned to walk parallel to the street. Something of note had caught her interest, but the processing delay of what she saw only came to her several paces later. In the parking lot next to the pharmacy, sat the semi-truck she had seen earlier in the diner. She hadn't been able to see the lot until walking out onto the sidewalk, leaving her blind to it until she was out in the open. Curiously, the truck was without the cab this time, and next to it was the same highway patrol car from before. Instinctively she backed up around the wall of the donut shop and leaned her back against it, pulling her shoulders in tight. She sat there out of view, eyes looking up towards the sky.
"Why are you hiding?" Allison asked herself, with a frustrated sigh. A thought nagged at the back of her mind but she couldn't pinpoint what it was. She wasn't sure why something about them felt off to her, but she couldn't shake it. Was it the look Fowler had given them back in the diner? Was it the fact that she'd seen them twice in as many days? It suddenly dawned on Allison that she now lived in a world where she couldn't trust any vehicle ever again.
The other night, when Allison spent time with Wheeljack and Teletraan-1, she remembered being told something that felt pretty applicable to this moment: the Decepticons valued maneuverability and supremacy of the air. This confirmed the alarming fact that they could fly, as ground-based alternative forms were generally not their first choice. They looked down at the Autobots, literally in fact, who were mostly restricted by gravity. Whether that was some weird technical anomaly, or some sort of inter-species diversity (whatever that meant in the context of Cybertronians) was still a mystery to Allison.
This was a new planet, with new variables, so it was possible that predictability was out the window in favor of the element of surprise. The only Decepticon Allison had seen so far was Soundwave, and whatever little shitheads followed him around. A stereo-based Rumble obviously couldn't fly, but she never saw Soundwave outside of his monstrous bipedal form, nor did she ever see what Frenzy could do. She would hate to think that an alien panther-like thing could change into something even more ridiculous.
The only thing she had to go off of, was Autobot experience, which meant that she probably wasn't looking at Decepticons. According to Occam's Razor, the most likely scenario was that she was standing in an alleyway by herself pondering the true nature of a couple mundane vehicles. Translation: this was insane.
Taking a breath and steeling her nerve, Allison decided that what she needed to do was get her shit together and trust in the information she was given. Swinging back out of the alley and onto the sidewalk, she tried not to give the adjacent parking lot too much side eye. Resisting the compulsion was step one to ceasing a bad habit before it began. The fact that no monsters sprang up and lunged at her from across the street should have been confirming enough, but she couldn't shake the odd feeling once she noticed an empty lot on her way back to the motel.
The next day was equally uneventful. The quietness of the sleepy town did wonders for Allison's nerves, and she found herself settling into an almost vacation-like mindset. She had enough funds for simple meals, but she knew she was going to have to look for a new place of employment soon. Explaining to Wheeljack that she needed some kind of job just for the privilege of surviving was going to be an interesting conversation, but as the end of the week approached it was increasingly unavoidable. Right now her priority was resetting herself and coming to terms with what was still a very weird reality for her.
One tends to re-evaluate their life choices when given the solitude and the abundance of time to be stuck in their own mind. With so many candles to burn and no functional employment, Allison could spend the time alone thinking about where she'd gone wrong; what she could have done differently. There was enough self-reflection and negligence for her own benefit that she wouldn't have changed anything. The biggest surprise of all, was the self-discovery that she was eager to return to the Ark and see the Autobots again. These were giant, mysterious, living mechanical creatures from deep space, and out of all the people on the planet, she was the one who had stumbled into the mix. It didn't come without fear. She was also scared, humbled, and filled with so many other emotions that were harder to nail down.
Allison wasn't ignorant to the physical danger and emotional burden that was part of the territory when it came to associating with such otherworldly creatures. The Autobots were ostensibly on the run from forces she couldn't possibly comprehend. They were exhausted, on-edge, and experiencing a fear that she couldn't relate to. The scale of their concerns dwarfed her brief human existence and was not without its effects on her as well. She could feel like an outsider on her own planet, amidst the daily trials of beings that were literally alien to her. They didn't treat her like an outsider though. They didn't blame her for this new misfortune even though they rightfully could have. She was integrated amongst them easily enough—albeit, with some exceptions. Sunstreaker would no longer be a mystery soon enough—and even though she didn't really belong, they tried to make her feel as though she did.
While Allison stayed determined to not overburden Wheeljack with communication, he was the one who took initiative and checked in with her several times. His messages were brief, but kind, and it was obvious that he was busy. Allison knew that somehow he was still watching her from somewhere she couldn't see; the likelihood that at some point all of them had their eyes on her was somewhat unnerving to think about, but that was the life she lived now. It was better to be spied on and be safe than the alternative.
The energon was an omnipresent problem that eventually was going to make itself known again. Soundwave and his goons had attacked her when enough energon in her body had accumulated to a point they had been able to detect her. She had no way of knowing if she was approaching that threshold again. Ratchet privately confided with her that he was confident in his ability to track her levels and would have intervened long before it reached a crisis point. Her proximity to the Ark acted as a sort of shield. But as long as she had a time bomb inside her body, she was never going to feel completely safe.
Eventually when Allison was close to reaching the tipping point of pure boredom, Wheeljack finally graced her with his full presence again. Ever the considerate mech, he buzzed her phone several more times than necessary, but had the courtesy to wait until after 9am. Allison was about to tell him that one message was enough, but found that once she opened her door he was right there, mysterious, alien engine idling in a manner that sounded just a little bit impatient to her ears. If he'd decided to park any closer, he would have been on the sidewalk. Or in her room.
"We have something we need to do," Wheeljack said immediately, sidestepping any pleasantries.
"Hey, good morning," Allison decided to ignore the ominous undertones of such a statement as she took a seat behind the faux steering wheel. For the briefest of seconds her hands hovered over it, instinctively going to grip it as if it were real. Realizing what she was doing with a start, she quickly pulled her arms back in and folded them on her lap. Whether Wheeljack noticed or not was secondary to his focus on driving as he pulled onto the road. "Is it the energon?" She chanced, wondering if her concerns had been justified. Was it detectable again, and if it was, why couldn't she feel anything?
"Not exactly. Well, yes, but that's not what I'm talking about. We need to make a detour first." There was nothing notable in Wheeljack's tone, as he sounded quite bland this morning. This didn't help Allison's anxiety as it came roaring back up through her gut, spiraling into a turbulent storm of worry and frustration about her condition. In the clear eye of that storm, where it was calm and free of turmoil, was the trust she had in Wheeljack that he wouldn't lie to her. She swam towards it, trying to focus on the sliver of sunlight that was knowing any critical emergencies would necessitate more urgency. He wouldn't be so casual if there was something to be catastrophic about.
Wheeljack clearly sensed something in her silence, because he clarified. "There's nothing to worry about. This is just something we gotta do. Okay?"
There was an unusually calm candor about his voice, but there was also something different and important he was trying to impress upon her. He was usually always wound up and worried about something, so the relative ease in his attitude was obvious. "I trust you." She said it so quickly without thinking, which was a surprise even to her.
With nothing further to address, Allison settled in for the silence as she watched the familiar parts of Moonridge turn into the unfamiliar. The realization that she had no idea where Wheeljack was taking her was unavoidably alarming to some extent, but she reminded herself that yes, she did in fact trust this alien with her life now. After twenty minutes, curiosity and compulsion compelled her to ask where he was going. He only responded with a very cryptic "Not much further."
The road had long since transitioned from man-made asphalt to well-worn dirt as the town disappeared behind them. The path had become compacted down over the years from the weight of other vehicles, but there was still enough loose gravel to kick it up the sides of Wheeljack's body. She could hear it rattling against him like peppering gunfire, and she had to grit her teeth wondering how unpleasant that must feel to him. She didn't think she'd enjoy a constant spray of pebbles being flung at her bare skin so she could only wonder what sensory capabilities all those solid metal plates had. He didn't comment on it, except to grunt when an exceptionally large rock pinged against his windshield.
At some point the trees receded, thinning out before transitioning to low shrubbery and dusty rock formations as the terrain turned more mountainous. The only man-made structure they came across for miles was an old chain link gate hanging limply on its hinges. Wheeljack completely ignored the KEEP OUT sign and plowed straight through, the metal shredding against his mass and inertia as the gate was torn from its hinges like tissue. Beyond this point, it was clear that there had once been human activity, but the hollowed out wooden buildings were abandoned a long time ago.
Even though Allison had never personally been here before, she had enough context clues to make connections. "Why are we at the quarry?"
"Something we gotta do," Wheeljack repeated, echoing his similarly unhelpful statement from before.
"Are you going to throw my body down a mine shaft?" The joke was well-intentioned, but there was undeniably a thread of concern layered underneath her sarcasm that was maybe also intentional. Her palms were starting to sweat, though she felt Wheeljack bristle as something rattled beneath her seat.
"Don't joke about that," he sounded annoyed, maybe even offended. "No," he amended, as if she needed the extra layer of clarification. She regretted making the joke now, and forced herself back into compliant silence.
Stewing in a failed attempt at comedy, Allison lost track of where they were traveling until Wheeljack suddenly curved sharply to the right. Her stomach floated a little as he pitched, the road curving down into the circular chasm of the quarry proper. Through the windshield, the sky was suddenly replaced with a sheer wall of rock. The large, flattened pit was littered with piles of discarded stone. The walls themselves were neatly carved by years of deliberate segmentation as the former workers dug through the mountainside in calculated layers. All of that was secondary to what her eyes drifted to in the dead center of the chasm. It was the semi-truck cab and the highway patrol car that she'd already seen more times than necessary.
"I knew it," she muttered under her breath, not intending for Wheeljack to hear, but she should have known better.
"I figured you would," The lack of surprise in Wheeljack's voice could only mean that he knew something behind the scenes that she didn't. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. Some kind of warning would have been nice.
"Were you not going to tell me I was being watched?"
"I didn't know until they told me. I'll remind Optimus that he's lost his edge." Allison felt her heart skip a beat, because Optimus Prime was admittedly the last person she would have expected to be watching her. That came with a special kind of frightening feeling that made her wonder if it was a good thing Wheeljack hadn't told her. It was obviously only a matter of time before she found herself standing in front of Optimus Prime himself, but she wasn't prepared to meet him so soon. "He's with Prowl." The way this was being manufactured in such a secret, clandestine way felt like she was being led to a private meeting between hostile government factions. They missed the memo that she wasn't a government agent. Or anyone important at all.
"Why all the secrecy?"
There was a faint sensory impression that felt like a shrug. "Security. You can thank Prowl for that when we get down there." There was a curious intimation of annoyance in Wheeljack's explanation; a distinct lack of enthusiasm about this particular Autobot and that started to make Allison nervous. The only thing she knew about Prowl was that Sideswipe liked to commit vandalism in his personnel file.
They finally reached the bottom of the quarry, and Allison was grateful as the ground leveled out because the nerves were starting to settle in her stomach again in a very unpleasant way. The sound of gravel being flung around Wheeljack's movement suddenly seized as he finally came to a stop in front of the other two Autobots. The silence was somehow more oppressive than the constant clatter of tiny pebbles ricocheting off of Wheeljack's frame. It didn't help that it stretched on for an eternity.
Allison remained where she sat, unsure if she was supposed to get out on her own or wait until she was summoned. Wheeljack seemed to sense her apprehension and opened his door for her, a clear indication for her to take the initiative. But something caused her to remain motionless, a sense of paralysis washing over her. Her brain said to get out and yet her hands remained in her lap, unmoving. With the door gone, there was nothing between her and the two looming vehicles. They sat as motionless as her, and she wondered if this was part of the test.
"I can't," was all Allison managed through a tightened throat, before she felt Wheeljack waver around her. It sounded suspiciously like a chuckle.
"Sure you can," He countered, before tipping sideways, somehow, lifting on his shocks on one side in a sudden, unnatural tilt. The strangled yelp of surprise that stuttered out of Allison's mouth as her world teetered nauseatingly was overpowered by the thrum of Wheeljack's uncanny movement. He was kind enough not to completely throw her out onto the dirt, regulating his shifting parts in such a way that she was dumped onto her feet. Throwing her arms out for balance, she managed to find her footing on the ground just before her knees buckled. Momentum carried her several forced steps away in a graceless stumble as the following clatter of a transformation happened behind her. Wheeljack was on his feet now, and as she threw her head back to glare at him, his face remained infuriatingly unchanged.
"Terrific, thank you," she mumbled quietly as she dusted off the bottom of her pants. They weren't remotely dirty but it was a subconscious attempt at trying to regain some degree of composure.
Allison turned a second time and glared up at Wheeljack, finding his eyes cast down to her level as he motioned with his head towards the other two in a clear request for her to walk forward. It was obviously time to get serious, but all Allison felt was like she was a toy bone being thrown to a couple of dogs.
Remembering again that yes, she did trust Wheeljack, Allison took a cautious step forward. Then a second. Right as she was about to take a third and finally open her mouth to say something, the highway patrol car suddenly lurched upwards in a chaotic unfurling of metal pieces until a Cybertronian stood in front of her. He stepped quickly, and heavily between Allison and the semi-truck, looming above her in a way that was definitely more threatening than she thought the situation warranted.
This figure was almost as tall as Wheeljack, white and black patterns obviously the markers of the police car he had chosen to masquerade as. His vibrant blue eyes were piercing underneath a red chevron crest that was similar to Ratchet's, and all of this pure, unwavering focus was entirely on her. His deep frown was all the confirmation she needed to understand that for whatever reason this Autobot was not happy with what he was looking at. To make matters worse, Allison could not help but notice there were very massive guns affixed to his shoulders, and her mouth started to feel dry as she noticed they were pointed in a direction that was a little too close for her comfort.
"Stop," He barked, the voice rough and demanding, and definitely holding the right amount of power behind it to make Allison freeze. She could hear Wheeljack suddenly moving behind her, feeling the tremor of his footsteps as he approached her back, and she wasn't sure if that was supposed to calm her down.
"Prowl, I know that metal rod that's still wedged firmly up your aft makes you cranky, but we discussed this already and this isn't necessary," Wheeljack growled, his voice low and warning despite the statement sounding absurd enough to be mistaken as a joke. The other Autobot did not see it that way.
"It's important our guest understands how things work around here," Prowl said, dryly, just as sudden movement at his back caught Allison's attention. She realized with a flare of familiarity that he had wings too. How many of them had wings, she thought blandly. The car doors jutting out from his back would have almost been cute, if not for the fact that nothing about this Autobot screamed cute. "...And that your dereliction of common sense isn't an example for the rest of us."
"You already had me sworn to secrecy until we got here, and I'm still not sure what you plan to get out of this." Well that explained why Wheeljack had practically ambushed her with such an uncomfortable, sudden meeting. It didn't make it any more palatable. Allison could only look between the two Autobots in utter confusion. Being the center of attention without actually being addressed directly was irritating. Wheeljack stood too close to her, stiff and aggravated and it was bleeding onto her assessment of this situation and turning it into a very negative experience. Prowl was obviously tense. She did not trust that he wouldn't blast her on the spot as a consequence of instinct if she so much as moved.
"I've heard your side of the story already. Now I have questions for the human." So she was downgraded to human again. This was becoming a bit of a pattern. It didn't dissuade Allison's assumptions of contempt anymore when the white and black Autobot swung his arm around and pointed directly at her. "Did the human come with these injuries, or is that your handiwork too?"
Allison raised a hand subconsciously to her neck, where the still tender, but healing bruises were hidden by her jacket. Of course he'd somehow pick up on her injuries despite her best effort to hide them. It didn't help that Wheeljack's immediate reaction, while wordless, was immense and overwhelming. She felt a prickling sensation under her skin, like electrical energy or the collection of static in the air. He was preparing to fight with Prowl because he was offended. On her behalf apparently. This was going to get very awkward.
Glancing surreptitiously at the semi-truck in a silent half hope that it would suddenly transform and order the two bickering Autobots to stand down, she found her eyes captured and unable to abort what was probably a very rude social faux pas. She was looking for anything to cut through the tension, but there was no movement to reward her efforts. It struck her suddenly that this wasn't just some truck she was staring at. If she was staring at him, chances are he was staring at her. It was possible he wasn't even paying attention to the two arguing Autobots. A flush of heat under cheeks allowed her to finally avert her gaze, wondering if Optimus Prime was paying close attention to what, if anything, she would do. If the Autobot leader was anywhere near as unfriendly as Prowl was, this was not going to be fun.
The entrance to the quarry called her gaze to it, high above them, and an intrusive, nagging thought came back to her. The idea of walking off and disappearing into the mountains was very attractive.
The debate between Prowl and Wheeljack raged on in the background. Allison stood there as two giant robots talked about her, rather than to her. A pensive sigh pushed through her chest as an especially round pebble on the ground drew her interest. Tuning both Wheeljack and Prowl out was difficult, as she kept hearing references to herself and things that had happened in the short period of time her life had been blown apart. After a few minutes it was clear the chest thumping wasn't going to stop, and Wheeljack was sounding more and more like he was about to throw hands, so she mustered up the courage to clear her throat.
"If you have questions for me, then shoot. I don't have all day." She did in fact, have all day, and without Wheeljack she'd likely be stranded in this quarry forever, but they didn't need to know that.
The way the two Autobots went silent one would think they'd been hit by some kind of freeze ray. Prowl shifted, thankfully no longer rudely pointing at her, but no less threatening when he took another step in her direction. "Pardon me?" Still looking down the length of his massively broad chest at her, she noted he was scowling.
"It's an expression," Wheeljack supplemented, somewhat helpfully. "It means get to the fragging point." His tone cooled, the impending violence averted.
"I have no intention of shooting you, I merely—"
"You want to interrogate me." Allison couldn't resist the impulse to return her gaze to the very large weapons on his shoulders, suddenly wishing she'd kept her mouth shut because Prowl's expression was still sour.
"Who have you told about your interactions with the Autobots?" Obviously Prowl took Wheeljack's slightly inaccurate assessment of her lingo to heart, and did just want to get to the point. That was fine by her.
"No one." The answer was easy, because it was the truth, but something in the back of her mind nagged at Allison to tell them about Agent Fowler. Again.
"Have the Decepticons approached you with any promises of power or offers of fortune if you disclose the whereabouts of the Ark?"
"What?" The question was unbelievable, and immediately a flare of anger ignited in Allison's gut. " What kind of a question is that!? I—I was attacked. They almost killed me!" She didn't even realize she'd shouted until she saw Prowl flinch back as if he'd just been flicked in the nose. Instead of satisfying it somehow felt more irritating. Her shoulder twinged with pain, an annoying reminder of what she'd actually suffered. "They didn't offer me anything other than unemployment and a trip to the hospital, so why the fuck would I do them any favors?"
"Prowl," Wheeljack growled behind her. The warning note in his voice returned. He was defending her and she wasn't sure how she felt about it right in that moment.
"I'm not finished, Wheeljack, and I have plenty more questions for you after I'm done with her—"
"That's enough." A new voice, firm and commanding, rang out through the space, immediately shutting Prowl up mid-sentence. It cut through the air like thunder, and yet Allison noticed there was a softness to it that belied the arresting quality of its source. All turned to face the semi-truck as the previously unmoving vehicle finally revealed its true nature. It began to split, shifting and rearranging as pieces stacked on top of one another to raise the robotic form of the massive Autobot leader. Allison had been wrong about his size. She had underestimated his imposing stature and bulk, with only small images and video feed that did not do him justice. He towered over both Prowl and Wheeljack by a blistering ten to fifteen feet of red, blue and silver robotic muscle. In retrospect, Allison realized the colorful display should have been enough to give him away a lot sooner, but it wasn't like a surprise visit from a Cybertronian figurehead was expected. "That won't be necessary, Prowl…" His voice was deep, rich and almost tangible in the air like every molecule trembled from the wavelength of his careful, deliberate parlance.
"But…Prime…" Prowl looked shocked, and Allison found that satisfying.
Optimus Prime approached his Autobot companion, steps heavy and vibrating under Allison's feet and she had to brace her own footing just to stop her knees from buckling underneath her. His vibrant, gleaming blue eyes were large and almost doe-like, giving the massive giant a softness that did not match his colossal stature. Placing a giant hand on Prowl's shoulder, he cast those eyes right down at Allison and she felt like the entire universe dropped out from underneath her. She was staring into an existence so ancient, and powerful and so beyond the extraterrestrial vibrancy of the other Autobots that she almost forgot to breathe.
"I acknowledge your concern, my friend, and your diligence is appreciated. But I believe we've seen enough to know that Allison is no threat to us." Every word spoken was so smooth, and carefully articulated, as if Optimus Prime put every ounce of his feeling into what he was saying.
And he knew her name.
"You've been watching me," Allison said. It was the only thing she had the strength to speak, knowing full well it was not the most humble, or respectful of things she could have said. Awestruck confusion made her say the first thing that came out of her mouth. How else did they really know anything about her?
"I truly apologize. I hope you can understand that the safety of the Autobots in my care is my ultimate responsibility. I had to be sure." The massive Autobot shifted away from Prowl slightly, towards he, and under ordinary circumstances Allison may have been compelled to put safe distance between them. It wasn't bravery that kept her rooted in place, but it wasn't exactly fear either.
It was a blink and you'll miss it kind of moment, a sudden change of perspective as Optimus Prime lowered his massive body with a quickness that should have been impossible for something the size of a small freighter. He shifted with a smooth grace, an otherworldly chorus of moving servos and alien gears as he transitioned to Allison's level in the only way that he could. Crouched in front of her, he still overwhelmed her tiny, fragile human body, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless. The message when Prowl didn't bother with such considerations was received loud and clear.
There was something about his wording that stuck out to Allison. The quickness to apologize, the use of the word "care" instead of something more sterile, wasn't what she expected at all. He protected them, just as they protected him.
"I understand." Allison said, feeling her voice choke in her throat a little bit from the pure stress of the moment. "I'm not sure what copbot over here thinks I can do that would be of any threat to you."
There are those rare moments in time you often only see in movies, or read about in books, where the entirety of existence freezes due to a catalyst of overwhelming proportions. Not even a grain of dust moves as reality stops, buckling under the pure audacity belonging to the architect of such a uniquely perilous juncture. Every living being stops what they were doing, and focuses squarely on you, and the utter stupidity that just rolled out of your mouth. This was one of those moments.
Allison didn't even realize what she'd said until Wheeljack broke the silence, the loud bark of laughter making her jump out of her skin. Wheeljack was laughing. She'd never really heard that before. It would have been nice, but in that moment it was possibly the worst thing she'd ever heard because Prowl knew it was at his expense. He did not look happy about it.
"Please. The thugs your people employ as "protectors" are insulting to the very concept." Prowl sneered. He had a point, but that hadn't exactly been Allison's intent. It had just sounded appealing in her head because it was teasingly stupid. What was he going to do, step on her?
The curious, glistening stare that Optimus Prime turned in her direction invigorated her a bit more than it probably should have. The line of this mouth curved, just slightly, on a face that harbored millenia of wisdom and experience between the seams of smooth metal. Proper decorum would keep him from laughing, Allison imagined, but she thought she could see it in the relaxed way he watched her. She hadn't intended to nuke the entire chasm, but it seemed to go in her favor anyway.
"You do know that impersonating law enforcement is a crime?"
At this point, the charade of appearances seemed to have reached a breaking point, as Optimus Prime hmmed a soft, resonant chuckle that rolled through the depths of his chest. Allison felt a deep, internal satisfaction with herself over the fact that she'd somehow made the massive Autobot leader laugh without even really intending to.
Thankfully, Prowl did not in fact step on her. He instead gave Wheeljack a puzzled look—it was a very distinct what have you brought home from off the street kind of look like she'd been dragged in from an alleyway. She had in fact, been dragged in from what was technically an alleyway, if one could consider the hidden crevices between power facility buildings to be that.
"Don't look at me," Wheeljack said, throwing up his hands with a shrug, the remnants of devious joy stuck to every word. She'd successfully made Wheeljack laugh too, and dammit that felt good.
Outwitted, outnumbered and making up his mind about whom he was going up against, Prowl actually appeared to relax a little. The incline of his wings shrunk as the tension that was being held there eased. "I would welcome any of your kind to attempt to arrest me." It was barely there, but the ghost of an amused smile passed over the plating of his mouth and frankly that felt like a huge personal win.
"Are you now satisfied, Prowl?" Optimus Prime tilted his gaze towards his companion, settling back slightly on his crouched legs to appear just a little bit taller. Maybe Allison had successfully diffused what was going to initially be a very serious encounter with her questionable wit. Optimus Prime was asking others for their opinions despite having every opportunity to resolve the situation any way he saw fit. They worked together, made decisions together, as a collaborative team—a family—rather than have a rigid structure of command. That's what it felt like at any rate, and Allison found herself admiring this immensely. He had faith in those who followed him.
Prowl nodded, though there was some hesitation in the gesture as if he wasn't fully appeased yet. His eyes marked her with clear intent, communicating that he would very much be watching her.
"Are we done here?" Wheeljack was standing next to her now, no longer feeling the need to literally have her back now that the tension broke.
Something tugged at Allison, as if she owed Optimus Prime her full honesty. Her newly fledged admiration for him brought to mind her encounters with Agent Fowler. If she didn't bring it up to him in person now, she would regret it later.
"Actually, there is one thing… um, Optimus Prime… sir," Was that necessary? She didn't know where the sudden ceremony was coming from, but now that the combativeness had passed Allison found that she'd lost all her steam.
"There is no need for such formalities." His response, so affirming and sincere, made her believe him right away. "Simply Optimus is fine."
"...Okay," Allison said, regulating her breathing. She was caught off guard and had to regather her confidence. Now that all eyes were on her again, it felt different this time. Expectant. There were no more pointing fingers or accusations, but easy patience. God, she hoped she wasn't about to piss them off. "After I was attacked, I was approached by a federal agent at the hospital. He said his name was William Fowler." Allison paused, waiting for the outburst of anger, fear, blame, but they were still so quiet. She wasn't sure if that was worse. "He asked me a lot of questions, but I didn't tell him the truth. I really feel like he knows something, but I don't know what. I saw him again yesterday, which tells me either he's following me or at least keeping very close tabs on me."
Optimus nodded as she spoke, his expression showing little of what he was thinking. "And did this Agent Fowler ask you for any information about us specifically?"
"No. He asked me fairly vague questions. If anything it seemed like he was waiting for me to slip up on my own." Allison folded her arms across her chest. "I already told Ratchet and Wheeljack, but I needed to tell you."
"And did you slip up?" Prowl asked, and it was not at all a surprising question coming from him. He was very direct.
Allison shook her head. "No." Apparently already saying she didn't tell the FBI agent anything wasn't sufficient enough. The flick of annoyance snapped at her nerves again, reigniting briefly before whispering away. "I didn't say anything."
Prowl's eyes were glowing hotly, white embers of otherworldly focus while he processed this. "She's telling the truth." How he could know this, she didn't even want to entertain, but the words were confident and final.
The Autobot leader's expression when he looked down at her was careful, but it was warm. "Then we appreciate her honesty."
It was really starting to feel like they knew something she didn't, but they were choosing not to tell her. Maybe they thought it was for her safety. Or maybe they thought the less she knew the better. In case she did run into him again unexpectedly, the less she was privy to meant the less she could accidentally blurt out unintentionally. That was probably the wisest thing they could do.
Glancing up at Wheeljack would offer no further insight, because he only tilted his head in thoughtful acknowledgment. All she could do was give them the information, and trust they would do what was needed for their own safety. Unless…
"You're uh… not going to kill him are you?"
Prowl scoffed. "We're not Decepticons."
Optimus shifted, and he suddenly looked uncomfortable. For a being of his size, that was quite a bizarre thing to witness, but his plating flared slightly before tightening flush against his body. Eyes that were so impossibly bright a second before paled to an almost sickly blue. It felt shameful. Allison was catching on that the Autobots didn't seem to appreciate the implications that they would cause physical harm to humans intentionally. "We are…aware of Agent Fowler. I can tell you he poses no threat to us."
"So why ask me all these questions?" Allison's eyes were fixed directly at Prowl.
"Curiosity," Prowl replied. It felt like he was lying.
Optimus interjected before she could comment, "It helps us learn more about you."
Allison nodded silently. They were testing her honesty. Maybe even testing her loyalty. That seemed to imply they saw her as an equal of sorts, which she has some pretty serious reservations about. But it did make sense.
It seemed they were going to leave it at that and just expect her to be satisfied with such a half-answer. Allison still felt like she was missing a key piece of information. Most notably, what was expected of her if she ran into him again.
She was left with a lot to think about. There was nothing to it really. Just keep doing what she was doing, and that was a whole lot of nothing. Tell Agent Fowler nothing. Be so uninteresting she wasn't worth following. Somehow Allison thought that last part was out of her control, not because of any conscious action on her part, but simply because of what she was surrounded by.
Sighing she looked down, wondering what was supposed to happen now. She didn't know if there was anything more they expected her to say. She was in the middle of drawing an intricate circle with her shoe in the dirt when Optimus shifted above her. Allison was met with the immediately overwhelming sense that he was closer to her now, which made her snap her head back up. Large blue eyes narrowed just slightly for the briefest of seconds in acknowledgment before his face took on a calm resolve.
"I am sorry that your newfound connection to us has caused you pain. I hope that you can forgive us." There was so much empathy and kindness in his plea for understanding, every sonorous syllable fraught with his own underlying trauma. Whatever a being of his age and experience had endured would be forever outside of her comprehension, yet he was asking her for forgiveness.
"I don't blame any of you," she said. Somehow it didn't feel like saying sorry would be appropriate anymore.
"We uh…" Wheeljack finally spoke, after being unusually mute for almost the entirety of this exchange. His timing felt intentionally brutal. "...have some things we have to fix…" Was this self-inflicted punishment for his own guilt? Allison knew he still blamed himself for what happened to her with the energon cube; for what happened to her because of Soundwave. It didn't matter how many times she told him it wasn't his fault.
"Indeed, you do." It seemed Optimus Prime maybe had a different interpretation of who was to blame. Though his words were not admonishing or abusing. He sounded tired, and defeated. Maybe even disappointed. That might have been worse.
/