Thank you all for the follow/favorites and reviews!
TVfan: Thank you for taking the time to give an explanation, I really appreciate it. It does matter a lot of sense, given the connection between Earth and Cybertron. Primus and Unicron respectively. And I was actually thinking of doing that for the relic hunt, though we'll see.
Rex Vong Thrawn: Thank you! To sate your curiosity, this story won't have any pairings in it.
Isurus2317: Thank you! I do want to try to make this story as realistic as I possibly can, in a sci-fi world with giant alien robots anyways. I don't want to go overboard, either. And I'm glad you enjoyed my work :D
Silas was furious. That Darby brat had nearly brought his entire operation to ruin. Were it not for the quick action of his soldiers, the entire operation could have gone up in flames—literally. The fire had come dangerously close to the energon, a substance that was not only radioactive, but also volatile.
If it had ignited, the resulting explosion would have been catastrophic, wiping out not just this facility but all who were in it. It would have marked the end of MECH and all that they had worked for. The only satisfaction that he could've possibly taken with him to the grave was the three brats being dragged down with him.
The damage had been contained, but not without a cost. One of their prized drones had been utterly destroyed in the blast, which had been a highly valuable asset for their research. And that wasn't the worst of it.
Equipment that had taken months to build and calibrate was now reduced to useless scrap. Vehicles and advanced weaponry—some prototypes that had taken them months of painstaking work—were charred beyond recognition. The explosion had set them back weeks, if not longer.
MECH couldn't afford that kind of delay. Neither, he suspected, could those three brats, considering what was running through their veins.
Now, Project Chimera was set back, all because of him.
Jack Darby had proven to be more than a mere nuisance. Outwitting MECH's operations once could be chalked up to luck, but this time around proved otherwise. The boy had somehow managed to disarm and incapacitate a trained soldier, stolen a weapon, and nearly escaped with his friends.
The boy had thrown caution to the wind by endangering himself and his companions. Silas might have admired such resolve if it weren't so maddeningly disruptive to his plans. Despite his anger, Jack Darby had proven to be cleverer and more resourceful than Silas had anticipated.
The kid was dangerous, not because of brute strength—something he was pitifully lacking—but because of his mind. And this wasn't the first time the brat had demonstrated his ingenuity. Jack had outwitting him during an earlier encounter with Airachnid, stealing his radio to call the government to his rescue.
But cleverness only went so far.
Silas looked at the security feed displaying the newly secured cells. The two brats that were the rowdiest and were more likely to try to escape had been moved to a more secure section of the base, where they would be punished for even attempting such a foolish thing, even if the man admired their reckless stupidity.
Silas wasn't about to take any more chances. The girl, loud and impulsive that acted much like a rambunctious toddler, was less of a concern, but she was still a potential threat. Darby, however, required careful handling. The other one, the runt, had been returned to his workstation—after being given another dose of E-X1—under heavy guard to continue helping MECH reprogram the rest of the three drones.
Silas decided that he would visit the two brats, being informed that the girl was waking up. She would receive her next dosage of the serum, and then the other brat, whenever he decided to wake up. When he was done with the three brats, Jack Darby, Miko Nakadai, and Rafael Esquivel would learn exactly what it meant to cross him.
Pain. That was the first thing he felt. It started as a pulsing throb in his head, but as he became more aware, it spread, coursing through his body like wildfire. His muscles screamed in protest when he tried to shift, feeling something cold bite into his skin.
Something wasn't right. He couldn't move.
Noise surrounded him, muffled and distorted, competing with the incessant ringing in his ears. It was chaotic and distant, like a poorly tuned radio caught between stations. He couldn't make sense of it. His mind was heavy, sluggish, like he was swimming through a thick fog.
What's happening?
Jack forced his eyes open, finding it difficult to open them, but he managed, only to slam them shut when a blinding light stabbed at his vision. It was like staring directly into the sun. The noises around him became more distinct now, though still not entirely comprehensible.
He caught the sound of... something. It was high-pitched and grating. Was someone crying? No... not crying... screaming. Like a banshee.
A strange thought flitted through his foggy mind. It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense.
Summoning what little strength he could muster, the prisoner pried his eyes open again, this time squinting against the light. Slowly, shapes began to come into focus, blurry blobs at first. There were two figures, one taller and darker, and the other, slightly smaller and lighter.
For a moment, his muddled brain latched onto a single, impossible thought.
Dad?
Why would his dad be here? It didn't make sense. His father had left years ago, disappearing without a word, leaving nothing but unanswered questions and a fractured family. Yet, in this moment, Jack's pain-ridden mind clung to the idea. Maybe his dad had come back. Maybe he'd come to save him.
"D-Dad?" The word scraped out of his throat, barely more than a croak. It hurt to speak.
A hand gripped his chin suddenly, tilting his head upward, sending a fresh wave of pain through his neck. His blurry vision began to clear, bringing the figure into sharp focus.
The teenager's heart sank, a snake coiling tightly in his chest. It wasn't his dad.
It was Silas.
Jack flinched as reality came crashing down around him. He hadn't escaped. This was MECH. He was still trapped, still a prisoner, and Silas was standing over him. He was probably in deep trouble with the MECH leader after his failed escape attempt.
The leader of MECH stared down at him with a chilling smile, eyes hard and dark, taking in Jack's every micro expression like a hunter sizing up its prey.
"I'm afraid not, son," Silas said.
"Silas," Jack spat, furiously.
The cruel man didn't flinch. If anything, his grip on the teenager's chin tightened, fingers digging into his skin painfully as he leaned closer. "You almost had us worried, brat," Silas said, mockingly sweet. "You weren't waking up. For a moment, I thought you might've done the unthinkable and cheated me of my fun."
Jack scowled, trying to jerk his face free, but Silas held firmly. "What are you talking about?" the boy demanded.
Silas' smirk widened. "Don't you remember, Jack?" he crooned. "You nearly destroyed our base. Almost took us all out. Impressive, really, for someone so... outmatched. But let's not forget the real kicker: you nearly killed the other two brats along with us."
The prisoner froze at the words.
The clap of thunder followed, and fire and heat erupted, engulfing the area. The teenager felt the heat scorching his skin, sending a wave of pain through his body. The boy was slammed into the ground by something, knocking the air out of him. His ears rang, and his vision blurred as the world tilted around him. He vaguely registered Miko and Raf screaming his name as something hit him again, harder.
His heart lurched in his chest. Miko. Raf. Where were they? Were they alright?
MECH's leader must've have saw the recognition in his eyes and chuckled darkly. "Always so noble, aren't you, Jack? Always thinking about others. But I'll remind you, that little stunt of yours cost you dearly."
Jack violently jerked his head back, wincing as something icy dug into his skin where metal met flesh, biting uncomfortably into his skin. His movements caused him to sway slightly, body rocking nauseatingly as he fought for stability. But there was nothing to stabilize with.
And then he saw her.
Miko.
She was strung up by her wrists, arms stretched up above her head and bound to a thick steel pole. Her feet barely touched the ground, toes scraping against the floor as she dangled there. Her eyes were wide, blazing with fury as she hissed at the second figure in the room like a feral cat. The sadist.
The boy's stomach churned as he took in her disheveled state. Her purple T-shirt and tank top with the little green robot drawing was gone, leaving her in nothing but her bra. Her purple and black stockings were missing, and she wore only her short jean shorts now, showing legs streaking with grime and old blood.
Her boots were gone as well, leaving her feet bare. Her hair, usually tied neatly in twin buns, was a tangled, matted mess, clinging to her face and neck in sweaty clumps. Fresh blood coated her skin, streaking her arms, her legs, her face. Yet, there were no visible wounds. No cuts, no scrapes, nothing that would explain the gruesome display.
That serum, Jack realized grimly. That damned EX-1.
Silas must have pumped her full of it again, healing her wounds but leaving the evidence of their brutality behind.
The teenager's gaze darted down to himself. His shirt was also gone, leaving his torso exposed to the cool air. His shoes were missing too and much like Miko, his wrists were bound above him, chained to the same kind pole as the Japanese girl's, forcing him to stand on his tiptoes to avoid the painful strain of his weight pulling at his arms.
He gritted his teeth, struggling against his bindings. The sound made Miko glance his way, her face twisting with relief. But one question screamed louder in his mind than anything else.
"Raf," Jack rasped, turning his head frantically, scanning the room. There was nothing here, no windows. Just a door and a table to his right, filled with sinister looking tools, an array of knives to who knew what else. Dread coiled tightly in his gut.
"Hmm?"
"Where is Raf?" the teenager demanded.
"Safe," Silas replied.
"I don't believe you," he spat. His chains rattled as he pulled against them with renewed vigor, ignoring the pain that it caused him. "I want to see Raf."
Silas' eyes narrowed, and his expression hardened. "You're in no position to make demands, brat."
The prisoner hissed through gritted teeth. "I want to see him!"
Silas' lip curled. Without a word, he turned and gestured to the sadist, who had been "tending" to Miko. "Allow me to formally introduce you," Silas drawled mockingly with a false politeness. "I'm sure you've already become... acquainted with Dr. Victor Felton."
So that was the bastard's name. His gaze snapped to the man Silas indicated. The sadist... that... that monster!
Jack's glared daggers at the man, despite his own pain and exhaustion. He knew what that man had done to them. To him. To Miko. To Raf. The memories of searing pain, of the serum burning through his veins, came rushing back like a tide threatening to drown him.
Silas chuckled, clearly enjoying his prisoner's reaction. "Such fire," he said. "It's almost admirable, really."
Then the extremist reached for something on a nearby tray. A syringe.
Jack's veins turned to ice as his eyes locked onto the object in Silas' hand. The syringe was filled with that sickly green substance, glowing ominously, the needle glinting evilly in the light. No, no, no, nononononono no! Not again! NO!
He thrashed against his restraints, twisting and straining as he fought with every ounce of strength he had left. He managed to land a blow against Silas' chest in his wild panic, not meaning to. The man didn't even flinch and retaliated swiftly, striking the boy across the face with enough force to daze him.
The eldest teenager's head snapped to the side, vision swimming. Somewhere in the haze, he heard Miko's screaming.
"Leave him alone!"
Silas ignored her and plunged the needle into Jack's neck this time, instead of his thigh.
Jack's scream tore through the room as the serum flooded his veins, an inferno of agony blazing through his body. It was worse than before—far worse. Every nerve felt like it was on fire, seared by the unnatural heat coursing through him.
It hurts! It hurtsitithurts, hurtshurtshurts. Pain so much pain!
The prisoner swore he could hear laughter, mocking his suffering.
And then, just as suddenly as the heat had come, an icy coldness swept through him, extinguishing the flames and leaving a bone-deep chill in its wake. His body was trembling uncontrollably, limp against his restraints. All his energy had been drained. Then, a strange buzzing started to hum in his mind.
A hand gripped his chin, lifting his head with surprising gentleness, forcing him to meet Silas' gaze once more.
The man's scarred face was unreadable. Finally, the leader of MECH spoke, almost tenderly, like a father addressing a wayward child. "Now, Jack," he asked sweetly, "are we ready to behave?"
Jack couldn't muster the strength to response.
Silas interpreted his silence as compliance, a twisted smile curling his lips as he let his head fall forward. Then, a warm hand ran through his hair, stroking in in a sick parody of comfort. The gesture was gentle, paternal, and utterly revolting.
Jack wanted to scream, to bite the bastard's hand, to twist away, to do something—but he couldn't. His body was drained, devoid of the energy required to fight back. And he hated it.
Worse, he hated the memory the touch dragged up.
His father used to do that. Before everything fell apart. Before he left.
When his dad was still around, Jack would come home from school feeling tired and dejected after another rough day of being bullied by Vince. His father, who worked night shifts and spent his afternoons watching football, would notice his mood immediately. Without fail, he'd pat the couch beside him and say, "Come here, sport."
Jack would eagerly dump his backpack into his room, then hurry back to join his dad on the couch. He'd lean into his father's side as the game played on the screen, his dad's hand ruffling his hair in a comforting rhythm. It always made him feel safe, loved, like everything would okay. Sometimes, he'd fall asleep there.
But that man—the man who made the teenager feel protected—was gone. He'd left without a word, abandoning his Jack and his mom to fend for themselves. The boy blinked rapidly, fighting against the wetness threatening to spill from his eyes. He would not cry in front of Silas. He couldn't show weakness—not here, not to him.
Dad was a coward, Jack told himself bitterly. If he really loved us, he wouldn't have left. He wouldn't have left Mom to work herself into the ground.
Mom. She worked 12-hour shifts at the hospital, and it was obvious that was exhausted every time she came home, despite her attempts to hide it. She'd collapse onto the couch at night, trying to appear strong for his sake.
But Jack saw through it. He'd sneak out of his room late at night, peeking into the kitchen to see her bent over the table, sorting through bills and taxes they couldn't afford.
That was when he decided to step up. He got a job at KO Burgers, sometimes taking drive in orders, other times flipping patties and occasionally mopping floors after school. It didn't pay much, but every little bit helped.
When he brought home his first paycheck, his mom had initially refused the money, insisting he save it for college. The argued about it until they reached a compromise: half of his earnings would go into a college fund, and the other half would go into their shared bank account to help with bills.
Jack worked hard, not just to lighten the financial burden, but to protect the one person who had always been there for him.
He wanted to go home. To see her again. To tell her everything would be okay, even if it wasn't. His throat tightened, and he blinked furiously again, willing the unshed tears away. Even that simple movement drained him.
The sound of Miko's voice snapped Jack back to reality. She was shouting again, spitting insults and curses at their captors with a with a fire that Jack envied. However, it earned her a sharp backhand from Felton. The girl's head snapped to the side, and she fell eerily silent, leaving Jack filled with worry.
"Well?" he prompted, still petting Jack's head, much to his fury.
"The serum, E-X1, is bonding with their bodies better than expected. Their healing capabilities are extraordinary."
Jack felt a chill run down his spine at the hunger in the doctor's voice.
"I'd like to conduct additional tests," Felton continued, focusing on the eldest teenager. "To see if any other... enhancements have developed beyond rapid healing."
Jack's stomach twisted into knots. He forced his head up, weakly glaring at Felton with all the venom he could muster. He knew exactly what "testing" meant in this place. It wasn't science—it was torture.
"N-no," Jack rasped, wincing as the buzzing in his head increased. It felt like something was creeping into his brain and he didn't like the feeling. "Stay the hell away from me."
Silas only laughed, a low, mocking sound that sent a shiver of dread through Jack's battered body. "Oh, Jack," he said softly, gripping his hair tightly and pulling his head up to look at him. "You'll find that here, your choices are very limited."
Much to his relief, the hand finally pulled away, leaving him with a sense of relief. His skin crawled from the lingering sensation, wishing that he could take a shower and scrub any remains of the mad man's touch off of him.
Then he remembered Project Chimera. Did it have something to do with E-X1? He was more concerned that it may have something to do with Raf. His mouth worked faster than his brain and he blurted out, "What's Project Chimera?"
Both Silas and Felton stared at him, surprised. They both shared a quick glance with each other before the leader of MECH suspiciously asked, "And how do you know about that, brat?"
Jack opened his mouth to respond, but the Japanese girl, in true Miko fashion, cut him off. "You've got a big mouth," she snapped, glaring at him.
Silas scowled, but then something seemed to click. His expression shifted into something more sinister. Jack felt his stomach drop, having a terrible feeling. The man seemed unbothered, if anything, he appeared pleased.
"Why, Jack. Miko," Silas said smoothly, drawing out their names. "You are Project Chimera."
Jack's heart skipped a beat as his and Miko's eyes widened like saucers.
"Wh-what?!" Jack stammered weakly. There was no way—no way—this could be true. "What do you mean?"
"You are Project Chimera," Silas repeated. "You are my chimeras."
Miko's response was immediate and furious. "We're not anybody's anything!" she hissed, renewing her struggles against her chains.
Silas ignored her outburst entirely, instead leaning back and fixing his attention on Jack. "Do you know what a chimera is, Jack?" he asked conversationally.
When Jack remained silent, Silas began speaking.
"It's an ancient Greek myth. The chimera was a monstrous creature—a fusion of three animals: the head of a lion, the body of a goat, and the tail of a serpent. According to legend, it ravaged the countryside of Lycia, spreading fire and destruction wherever it went. It was eventually slain by the hero Bellerophon, who rode upon the winged horse Pegasus to strike the beast down."
Miko rolled her eyes. "Wow. A nerdy bedtime story. Does this have a point?"
Silas's lips twitched, as if suppressing a laugh. "The point," he said smoothly, "is that the idea of combining disparate elements to create something powerful has fascinated mankind for centuries. Myth inspired science. Scientists began to wonder—could we, too, combine the traits of different species to create something entirely new? Something greater than nature itself?"
His voice dropped, darker now. "That fascination grew into experimentation. Early efforts were crude, but as technology advanced, so did our methods. Until we reached this moment."
The sick logic behind Silas's words was horrifying and he was unable to suppress a shiver. "So what," Jack jeered, "You're just going to slap some robot parts onto a human and call it a day?"
Silas smiled thinly. "We've already tried that," he said simply.
Jack's blood ran cold. "You... you've what?"
"We've tried many things, Jack. We've experimented with merging man and machine, attempting to create the perfect fusion of the two. But nothing worked. Every attempt resulted in failure. Dead ends. Corpses. And then—" His voice turned venomous. "—there was the whining tin can who offered us a solution. He promised us power, knowledge, and the means to create a perfect hybrid. But he lied."
Jack's breath hitched. He knew exactly who Silas was referring to. There was only one whiny, treacherous Cybertronian who fit the description.
Starscream.
But that meant... the Decepticons were working with MECH?
Silas sneered, confirming the teenager's suspicion. "That simpering coward only wanted our energon supply. He gave us half-truths and false promises. And because of him, we were left with a lifeless husk of a Transformer."
The mad man continued, "Starscream was useless, of course, and then that bug, Airachnid, scuttled into our path. Unwittingly, she gave us something far more valuable than his empty promises."
Jack's eyes widened. "Airachnid?" he whispered, horror creeping into his voice.
"Yes." Silas' smile was razor-sharp. "Her acid. That was the key to everything."
Wicked fans bared, curled into a mockery of smile as magenta optics bore into him, hungrily awaiting his reaction. Sickly green acid dripped from her mouth, sizzling as it hit the ground. Her silky and mocking voice asked the cruel question that would haunt him for the rest of his days.
"Why should I have all the fun? So, my Jack, you get to choose: agonizing or excruciating?"
Sickly green acid. Glowing, sickly liquid. He stared at Silas in mounting horror. The realization hit him like a freight train: the glowing, sickly substance they'd been injecting into him—into Miko, into Raf—was Airachnid's acid.
"No," Jack croaked, eyes wide as he flinched away from the extremist who neared him. "No, no, no..."
Silas' smile widened, clearly enjoying the terror on Jack's face. "Since your Autobot friend destroyed our original prototype, we've been forced to innovate. We want our Transformers. And you, Jack... you and Miko and that runt... are going to be the replacements."
June Darby set the last of the groceries on the table with a shaky sigh, her shoulders slumping. It had been a long day in the hospital, made worse by the dark cloud of worry that had settled over her life. Normally, she thrived in her role as a nurse. Her colleagues often praised her for her skill, empathy, and tireless dedication to her patients.
But these last couple of days had pushed her to the edge.
Her boss, Dr. Matthews, had pulled her aside into the hallway earlier that today after struggling to put in an IV. She had been distracted, zoning out during her shifts, and had made small but alarming mistakes with patient charts. He knew as much as everyone else in the hospital that June Darby didn't cry over small, insignificant things. So there was something wrong.
And then there was the moment she had seen a lifeless body being wheeled past her in the hall.
The sight had been too much.
Her legs had buckled, and she had collapsed into Dr. Matthews' arms. The corpse wasn't her son, but in that moment, her mind had conjured the worst: Jack, pale and still, lifeless beneath a sterile white sheet. Dr. Matthews, having no idea what she was going through, comforted her and told her she needed time to rest.
She had protested at first, thinking—what if Jack came back and she wasn't there? What if he needed her? But Matthews had insisted. "You're no good to anyone if you're running on fumes, June," he had said. "Go home. Take a few days. We'll manage without you."
Now, standing alone in her kitchen, she wished she hadn't listened. Alone, in her house, she was surrounded by pictures of the very thing she had lost—Jack. She had no distractions, no nothing to keep her mind that her baby boy was gone.
The house felt quiet. Too quiet.
Where was he? Was he safe? Was he even alive? She had tried everything—calling the police, filing a missing persons report, even driving the long desert roads herself in a desperate attempt to find any trace of him. Even after the Autobots told them what happened to her son.
What about Miko and Raf? Were they alright? Were they going through the same things her baby boy was going through? How were their families taking the news that their kids were missing?
Agent Fowler had probably told them some cover story because he couldn't just walk up to them and say that their children were kidnapped by mad organization that was obsessed with giant, metal beings that virtually none on the planet knew existed.
June sighed, looking down at the bags on her table. The groceries were an attempt at normalcy, a futile effort to keep her mind occupied. She began unpacking them. A loaf of bread. A carton of eggs. A jug of milk. A head of lettuce.
Her gaze drifted to the small picture frame on the counter, where a photo of Jack beamed back at her. It was taken on his sixteenth birthday, just a few months ago. His smile was wide and bright, his arm slung casually around her shoulders. He looked so alive. So happy.
She had always admired Jack's strength and independence. He had grown up too fast, taking on responsibilities that no teenager should have to bear. After his father had left them without so much as a goodbye, it had been just the two of them. She had poured herself into her work at the hospital, and Jack had stepped up, helping around the house, excelling in school, even taking a part-time job to ease the financial burden, despite her protests.
Had she leaned on him too much? Had she unwittingly stolen his childhood?
Her legs buckled, and she sank into one of the kitchen chairs. She gripped the edge of the table as though it were the only thing anchoring her to reality. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks, blurring her vision.
"Where are you, sweetheart?" she whispered in a heartbreaking sob.
The tears came uncontrollably now, shaking her body as she buried her face in her hands. She had held it together for so long, trying to be strong, trying to have faith that Jack would come home.
This was her fault. She had let Jack get too involved with the Autobots. At first, he had managed to convince her he was safe. Optimus and his team had convinced her he would be safe, that they wouldn't take them on mission. But they lied.
If it weren't for the Autobots, Jack would still be here, safe with her. Instead, he was in the hands of MECH—an evil, deranged organization that had no regard for human life. Who knew what horrors they were subjecting her son to?
Was he scared? Was he in pain? What if he was hurt? What if he was alone and scared, calling out for her, and she wasn't there to protect him? Or worse, what if he had already—
She rubbed her face, sniffling as she tried to steady her breathing. She couldn't think like that. Jack was smart, resourceful, and strong. He would find a way back to her. He had to.
There was a knock at the door. The sound startled June out of her spiraling thoughts, and her heart leapt to her throat. She quickly wiped her tears, straightened her shirt, and rushed to the door. Could it be Jack? She fumbled with the lock, thinking this.
When she opened the door, her heart sank. Standing there was Agent Fowler, rubbing his neck awkwardly. She tried to hide her disappointment, forcing a polite smile. "Agent Fowler," she greeted.
"Please, call me William," he said, stepping forward slightly.
"Of course... William," she replied. They stood there in awkward silence for a moment before she moved aside, gesturing inside. "Please, come in."
Fowler stepped over the threshold, fumbling with his jacket as though unsure of where to start. June closed the door behind him, and they stood there for another minute.
"Did you find him?" she blurted out finally, unable to help herself.
Fowler hesitated, his eyes flicking away from hers, and her stomach dropped. No. No, he couldn't be about to tell her what she feared most. Her hand flew to her mouth, stifling a sob as her knees threatened to buckle beneath her.
No," she whispered, her voice breaking. "No, he can't be—"
Fowler held up his hands quickly, realizing his mistake. "Whoa, whoa, Ms. Darby! That's not what I meant," he said, correcting himself. "Your son is alive. We believe he's alive. The 'Bots are doing everything they can to locate him, Miko and Raf."
"Think?" she demanded. "You think you my son is alive? That's not good enough, Agent Fowler!"
"I understand how you feel—"
"You don't understand!" she snapped. "My son is out there, and I don't know what they're doing to him!"
Fowler sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. For the first time, June noticed how tired he looked. The dark circles under his eyes, the slump of his shoulders, the stress lines that shouldn't have been there said it all. This wasn't just hard on her; it was hard on him too.
"Why are you here?" she asked after a moment.
"I'm here because it's not safe for you to stay here anymore."
June froze. "What are you talking about?"
"MECH knows who you are, and if they're bold enough to go after the kids, they might come for you next."
Her chest tightened at the mention of MECH. "Where?" she demanded, crossing her arms defensively. "Where are you planning to take me?"
Fowler hesitated, clearly planning on choosing his words wisely. "The Autobot base," he admitted. "Just temporarily."
"No," she said flatly.
"June—"
"Don't 'June' me!" she snapped, her tone sharper than she had meant it to be. "I'm not going there! If it weren't for the Autobots, my son wouldn't be in this mess in the first place! I will not step foot in that base."
Fowler let out a long sigh. "June... you need to understand that MECH doesn't care about your feelings toward the Autobots. They'll come for you regardless, and staying here puts you—and Jack, when we find him—at even more risk."
June didn't budge. "Then take me somewhere else. Anywhere but there."
Fowler stared at her for a moment before nodding. "Alright," he relented. "I can arrange for you to stay at the military base I'm stationed at. It's not ideal, but it'll be secure."
The mother exhaled. "Thank you," she murmured.
Fowler rubbed the back of his neck. "Pack what you need. Essentials only. I'll wait."
The woman hesitated, looking around the house that she had lived in for over twenty years. She hated the thought of being uprooted from her home, but if it meant being safer—being closer to finding Jack—then she had no choice.
Hold on, Jack. I'm coming for you.
Damn. Poor woman. She lost her son because of some giant tin cans taking him on a mission they thought was safe (and true, they didn't know that, and it's sort of not their fault). Though I don't blame her for not wanting anything to do with them. I think I'd be the same way if I were in her position.
Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you all think :)