Chapter Two: Splinter
As the group of four stepped through the threshold of the Witwicky household, they were greeted by an unusual sight. There, in the dimly lit foyer, stood Judy, her face streaked with tears as she clutched Bumblebee's holoform tightly to her chest. Nestled around Judy's neck was a pair of baby slippers, tiny and whimsical, their pastel colours a stark juxtaposition to her distraught expression. The room filled with an air of confusion and concern as the group exchanged worried glances, trying to comprehend the sight before them.
What exactly had they walked into?
Zelda could only blink as Bumblebee grinned at them, but his holoform's eyes were ringed red. Was he…crying too?
Sam emerged from the kitchen, his expression a tempest of frustration that mere words could hardly capture. With a toss, he let a box tumble from his hands, the clatter echoing as it struck the sideboard behind the settee. "It's not that she's upset I'm leaving," he exclaimed, his voice sharp and laced with indignation. "It's that she's losing the chance to pamper Bee!"
Sideswipe and Sunstreaker sniggered, and Sam shot them a look of disdain. Jazz smirked at the sight.
"Mum!" Sam cried as Judy started bawling her eyes out again when she noticed the new arrivals.
"My beautiful niece." Judy made a grabby hand at Zelda, ignoring Sam altogether. "C'mon here!"
With a playful roll of her eyes, Zelda ambled over to her aunt, her steps a bit unsteady as she feigned reluctance. She knew all too well that her aunt's embrace was inevitable, and she braced herself for the impending grab.
As she drew closer, she noticed Bumblebee looking up at her with a wide grin. The holoform's eyes sparkled with mischief.
"Yes, hello, Judy," Zelda greeted and rubbed her back. "You too, little brother."
"Oh, you simply can't go," Judy begged, tucking Bumblebee's head under her chin. "You're the only one that lets me spoil you!"
Bumblebee burst into tears again, too. "I'm sorry, Auntie, but I can't. I have'ta go."
"Nooo!" Judy protested, and Zelda wiggled herself free from the hug and tilted her head, bewildered. Judy huddled Bumblebee close once again with both arms.
Zelda turned to the others. Jazz shrugged, and the twins silently laughed at Sam's disgruntled look. She turned tail and raced up the stairs before Judy could drag her back into the hug. It was not exactly the welcome she had been expecting. Alas, this was Judy—you always have to expect the unexpected with that woman.
Still, Zelda pushed it aside as she stepped into her bedroom, taking a moment to stare at all the boxes and how the room felt stripped bare despite how, even before, it had little to no personality to it. Now, it felt genuinely lifeless.
Dumping her bag onto the bed, Zelda made work of dealing with those last few pieces of clothes still hanging in her wardrobe. Several hangers and their items of clothes were recklessly thrown onto the bed before Zelda found herself face to face with the jacket she had worn two years ago. She halted the clear-out and let her hand ghost over it. It had been a favourite that Zelda had always made sure to leave here, but now it was burned and ripped in multiple places.
Zelda wasn't really known for her sentimentality with objects.
Logically, a jacket this beat up would have been thrown out and binned without a thought, so why keep something you couldn't use anymore? The fabric was coarse now, and the cotton was rough on her fingers. Yet there was a comfort to it too. Maybe it was because of what happened that day. A reminder of what took place.
How this was the jacket she wore when her life changed.
(Again, but she refused to put more thought into her life experiences before that. She was healing, yes, but there's nothing about those years she can remember fondly, that she wants to remember.)
Maybe it was because of that confrontation on the roof.
Maybe it was because of the family it gave her.
Maybe it was because of the reminder of what it made her.
With a shaky sigh, Zelda pulled the jacket out of the closet. She was sure Judy or Ron would come in at some point to give a good clean-out and either box it up or throw it out. Truthfully, it didn't really matter.
Good or bad, Zelda doesn't want physical reminders.
Something clinked against the floor, and she blinked. Whatever had fallen drew her attention away from the jacket as she dumped it onto the bed with the rest of her stuff. Yet Zelda found herself frozen as her eyes found what exactly had fallen off her jacket.
"What?" she whispered in shock
A sliver of metal no bigger than her thumb lay at the toe of her left shoe.
Impossible, she stared breathlessly, how hadn't I—?
She felt the 'bots present responding to her sudden shift in emotion. Their concern came through the bond, and she forced herself torelax, sending reassurance back before dimming the bonds. Zelda made a mental reminder to work on keeping the bonds on the down low to stop broadcasting.
Zelda knelt cautiously, staring in bewilderment. There was no denying this was a piece of the Cube. It's Cybertronian script just visible enough.
"How did you break off?" she asked despite knowing there was no answer for her.
Reaching out to pluck the remains of the Cube from the floor, Zelda yelped as it shocked her. The half-formed script glowing as the energy retained within the sliver was conducted and funnelled through to her, leaving behind only an empty shell.
The sliver clinked again as it hit the ground, and Zelda gasped for air, muscle twitching and clenching against her will as the power made itself at home within her alongside the rest, burrowing deep into her very essence of being. Her prosthetic arm threatened to lock up, and she struggled to wiggle the fingers. Symbols danced across her vision with the same rapid, crippling speed as the other day.
Her back bumped into the chester drawer—when had she stood and stumbled back?—and gasped for breath. Her eyes pounded and her fingers twitched, tracing shapes onto the wood behind her as those symbols leapt across her sight.
Zelda squeezed her eyes closed, focusing on taking deep breaths, willing those symbols to temper themselves. Several long moments passed before Zelda felt well enough to peek her eyes open. The light hurt, and she blinked rapidly, her gaze landing on the sliver.
(At least it wasn't like last time.)
There was a sound from outside the room, someone coming up the stairs.
She scooped the sliver up.
"Zelda?" She flinched and turned to see Jazz's holoform, concern on his face. "Is everything okay? We felt another shift."
"Just—" her tongue was heavy in her mouth, and her fingers refused to uncurl to reveal the sliver. Instead, she made a vague gesture. "Symbols."
Her episodes, as she liked to call them, weren't anything new. Her brain wasn't large enough to understand everything. Ratchet theorised that it was a result of when information rose to the surface—enough for her to dip her hand into without reaching for it—but it was just too overwhelming and new for Zelda to make sense of it all.
"Are ya feelin' okay?" he asked as Zelda sat on the edge of the bed, blinking rapidly. Her head was struggling to keep up with the, albeit faintly now, flickering script.
"I will be." She closed her eyes again, wanting them to stop bombarding her. She groaned, bending forward, forehead resting on her knees. "I don't have enough brain power to understand anything."
Jazz knelt, hands threading through her hair, gently messaging her scalp. It helped, even if just a little bit. Her heart, which had been racing, finally stopped its pounding, and the hot flush receded.
"What's the rating?" he asked.
A beat.
"About a seven," she answered honestly. Zelda still doesn't say it was because of the sliver, can't say it, because it felt like something had settled within her throat, thick and heavy. But that wasn't going to stop her from answering, especially when it involved the AllSpark and her fleshy, fragile body.
"I'm gonna have to tell Optimus and Ratchet 'bout it, okay?"
Zelda nodded, her fingers curling tightly around the sliver until it dug into her palm. Then, she slipped in beneath the duvet covers, hidden from sight.
"Why now?" she sighed. "After Shanghai and Demolisher's warning with this Fallen character…"
"Optimus has his suspicions but ain't got no solid proof that this Fallen is who he believes it to be," Jazz explained. "At the moment, we've just gotta go with the flow, okay, sweet?"
She nodded again, finally sitting upright. Jazz stood, picking up where Zelda had previously been packing.
"Jazz," she protested, moving to stand. "You don't gotta—"
"Ah, ah," he wagged a finger at her. "You keep ya aft sat right there, got it?"
Zelda gave him an unimpressed look. "I'm perfectly capable of packing, thank you very much."
She only had a headache—the script had even stopped flickering! She wasn't in any debilitating pain!
Bumblebee chose that moment to come barrelling up the stairs and through the bedroom door, throwing himself onto the bed. He bounced several times before making himself at home.
"Gained freedom, have ya?" Jazz smirked as he folded up a jacket.
Bee laughed, tugging Zelda to lay back. She went without protest, ignoring the pointed smirk Jazz sent her way, and happily let Bumblebee play with her hair, braiding and plaiting it as Jazz returned to folding up and packing the remaining clothes. "Uncle Ron distracted her with an album of baby photos. Let me sneak away."
"I wouldn't be surprised if she had some of you stuffed in the most recent one," Zelda snorted.
"I have seen her taking pictures…" Bee chimed with a warm smile. Judy was really motherly; he loved his time with Sam but now it was coming to an end.
Zelda felt the sad hum of his spark. "What's wrong, little brother?"
Sighing, Bumblebee hugged her closer, resting his cheek on her scalp.
"I know I'm gonna be acting as your guardian now, but I won't get to see you as often as I want!" he whined. "It's not fair."
Cooing, Zelda shuffled to hug the blonde holoform the best she could in the laying position. "I'm sorry, Bee. I'll be sure to spend as much time as I can with you between my studies, okay? Can't go so long without seeing my little brother, can I?"
Bee giggled. "I'd like that."
Siblings. Jazz just shook his head fondly at the duo as if he wasn't included in that term also.
A summer's evening spent in the garden, huddled up on the blanket with drinks and snacks as one star gazed, is what Zelda would call a successful evening. But as Mikaela began to gather her stuff to head home, Zelda perked up and wiggled herself free from the group of holoforms to hurry after her.
Ron and Judy stood in the doorway, spying on Sam and Mikaela, who were in the entrance hallways. Zelda paused, watching over their shoulders in confusion.
Judy gasped softly, whacking Ron on the arm. "I think Sam's about to say the L-word."
Zelda cocked a brow, smile as Sam stuttered over his words.
"I... adore you."
Mikaela deadpanned. "That's not the word that I want to hear right now."
Sam was flustered, arms waving wildly before he crossed them, red in the face. "What are you talking about? It's the same word as the other word."
"It's not the same word," Mikaela cocked a brow, very much unimpressed with Sam and his utter failure to say the words I love you.
Sam floundered. "Look, if I say the other word now and you forced me to say it, it won't mean anything, plus you haven't said it either. So, don't get mad at me for not saying it."
"Yeah, but I haven't said it because guys always run when you say it first."
A beat.
"Yeah, well, so do girls. Especially girls like you, with options."
Mikaela smiled, a laugh of disbelief escaping. "So, this is all part of your elaborate plan to keep me interested?"
Sam bit his lip as a grin threatened to take over, and his flush darkened. "It can be."
Mikaela sighed. "I hate that it's working."
Sam laughed and they shared a kiss. "We're going to make it work, I promise."
Zelda smiled, dorks.
When Sam darted away to grab something, Zelda used that chance to approach Mikaela.
"Mikaela," she loped over as the raven turned. "I need a favour."
"A favour? Sure?" Mikaela smiled, getting her helmet down. "What's this favour?"
Zelda peered behind her, gesturing for the younger woman to follow her to the front of the house. She didn't want any prying ears overhearing what she was about to ask of Mikaela.
"Zelda?" Mikaela followed either way, but her confusion was evident. It twisted into shock when Zelda revealed the shard piece. "Is that—?"
"Shh," Zelda hushed her, and Mikaela nodded. "It's dead, no power or anything but listen, I need you to take it and hide it."
"Me?" Mikaela hissed, shooting a look back at the house. "Why?"
Why? Why indeed. Zelda wasn't sure—it just, felt right. Like this was meant to happen.
"Look, it's a gut feeling, okay?" Zelda wasn't sure if she should call it a gut feeling because it was more than that. This was some sort of—prompting. Yes. Maybe even divinely, as hysterical as that made her feel. "Trust me, whatever happens, you need to keep an eye on it. If something happens or even looks suspicious, tell me."
Mikaela sighed, hesitantly holding her hand out for Zelda to drop the sliver into. She rolled the shard, memories threatening to rise up as something thick lodged in her throat. "Okay," she whispered, then nodded. "Anything out of the ordinary, I'll call asap. No problem."
"Thank you," Zelda wrapped her up in a hug, voice low as she continued. "I'm sorry for asking. It's just, hard to explain with words."
Mikaela returned the hug, hand clutching the shard tightly.