Chapter Twenty-Four: Here With You

"So, here's what I've got so far." On the hill above the beach, overlooking the sea, Steven showed Connie the pages of music he had written. Well, page. "I only have one verse down, but I think it's pretty solid."

She looked over the sheet. "Hmm…I think it looks good. And you said you wrote this for the guitar?"

Steven pulled his dad's old acoustic guitar into his lap. "Well, I played it on the guitar, but I didn't have any specific instruments in mind. Actually, can I hear what it's like on your violin?"

"Of course! But technically, it's a viola," she said. Whatever it was called, she placed it on her shoulder, and began to gently glide the bow across the strings. She played the melody Steven had written: three rising notes, followed by five more lilting tones. "Huh. Now that I hear it out loud, it sounds kinda ominous…"

This was disheartening news for Steven. "You think so? I was going for more of a sci-fi feel to it. It's the Autobot theme song, so it makes sense, right?"

"No, no, it does, maybe it's just the way I'm playing it," she said. "Here, I'll try again." Once more she played the notes, getting a much more uplifting feeling out of them this time. "There, that's better, yeah? Now all it needs are some lyrics?"

Strumming at his guitar, Steven pondered what words could fit the tune. "I've been thinking about how they transform, and trying to work it into the song somehow. Should it go 'more than meets the eye,' or 'robots in disguise?'"

"I think both work," said Connie. "Why don't we do something like this…" She began to play the song from the top. "Now give me a beat!"

Steven then started playing his guitar, harmonizing with Connie's viola. "Transformers! More than meets the eye!" he sang.

"Yeah, like that!" said Connie. "Transformers! Robots in disguise!"

The pair became even more confident in their playing, with Connie even stepping about to the rhythm. "The Autobots wage their battle to destroy the evil forces of…the Decepticons!" They spoke their words in tandem, as though they were connected. "Transformers!" After completing the refrain, they both tumbled onto their backs.

"That was…awesome!" said Connie. "I don't think I've ever felt music inside of me like that! Did you feel it too?"

"Oh, I sure did!" Steven replied. "It was like…like someone else was speaking through me, and I was relaying a message in the form of music." He blinked. "Does that make sense?"

Connie laughed. "Not at all!" The two of them collapsed into giggles, before just laying there on the grass. Their hands rested beside each other, almost but not quite touching. As the sun had begun to set, Connie initially thought the glow she saw was coming from the horizon. However, it soon became apparent that it was much closer. "Huh? Steven, are you…glowing?"

Looking down at his chest, Steven was surprised to discover that he was, in fact, glowing. "Woah, check it out!" A bright blue light was emanating from his chest. He quickly removed his shirt to get a better look at the source, which appeared to be coming from inside of him. "Weird…"

"So, you've never seen this before?" asked Connie. "Could it be the Matrix of Leadership? That glows, right?"

Steven poked his chest a couple times to see if there was any reaction. "Maybe, but the Matrix usually comes out into the open. Maybe it's my spark?"

Leaning closer, Connie reached out to prod the light as well. But the moment her finger made contact, a surge of energy shot forth, enveloping the two of them. Their eyes went wide as they felt the energon flow into their very forms, twisting, turning, intertwining. Two sparks, beating as one. Two souls, swirling together. Two bodies, joining the other. They were each other. They were together. They were as one.

As the disorienting feeling of all that energy slowly faded, the duo lay there in the grass, groggily pulling themselves up. "Gruh…th-that was intense…" They spoke with one voice: specifically, that of a young man, maybe an older teenager. They slowly got to their feet, stumbling and leaning on each other for balance. "Woah…okay, maybe we should head baaaaack!"

The cause of their sudden shout was because they had, on their unsteady legs, staggered over to the edge of the cliff and subsequently tumbled off. Thankfully, it wasn't a full-on fall, more of a slide down the steep dirt slope. It did end with them facedown on top of the Ark, however. Once again, they pulled themselves up, working their way back down to the ground without faceplanting a third time.

"Okay, maybe that's enough rocking out for today," they said, reaching for the door to Steven's house. However, in doing so, they found that their hand was too big to open it. "Whoops, looks like I got big by accident," they said. "I'll just have to—wait…I can't get big, that's Steven's thing. So why am I big? Wait…am I not Steven? Am I Connie?" The figure stepped back, looking down at his hands. On closer inspection, they were the same white and blue color as a protoform, rather than the grey of Steven's Autobot mode. "Who am I!?"

Evidently, the commotion was enough for someone to come outside to check on them. The door to the ship opened, and Elita walked out. "What is going on out here?" she asked, her voice a mix between concern and exasperation. When she noticed the newcomer, however, she went completely still. If giant robots could turn pale, then she certainly did. "What is…Are you…Is this…?"

"I was wondering the same thing!" said the protoform, gesturing wildly. "We were just writing songs up on the hill, when WHOOSH! All of a sudden, my chest started glowing, and when I poked it, there was this big swirling light show, and then we were…well, me! Is this some sort of Transformer thing I'm not aware of?"

Reaching back for something to grab onto, Elita took hold of the door before slowly backing inside. "Just give me a second," she said softly, her eyes fixed on the duo who had become one. And so, they waited there for a moment, hearing some sort of commotion from within. Before long, all three Autobots rushed outside. "...and they say they're both Steven and Connie!"

He waved. "Hello," he said awkwardly. Both Sideswipe and Magnus were as wide-eyed as Elita had been. "So, uh, yeah. I exist now, apparently. Any ideas on why? Or what I even am?"

"This is…remarkable," said Magnus, approaching with what seemed like reverence. "You…you're a gestalt, a combination of Steven and Connie. 'Stevonnie,' if you will. I had no idea it was possible for an organic and a Cybertronian to combine. I had no idea Steven could combine at all!"

"Pretty sure none of us did," Sideswipe said.

Steven-Connie looked down at his/her/their hands. "So I'm…both Steven and Connie? I did what you guys can do, like with Powerglide, or Warpath, or Fortress Maximus?" He/she/they stepped back, beginning to worry. "Oh no…what if I lose myself in…myself? What if I'm never able to bring them back!?"

"Steven, Connie, don't worry," said Magnus. He stepped forward, gently taking them by the hands. "I know combining can feel overwhelming at first, but if it's between two people who greatly care for one another, it can be a truly beautiful experience. I promise you, if need be, we will do anything to return you to your normal selves–but first, why not give your new self a try? Go–enjoy being one for a while. We will be here if you need us."

"I…I guess I could give being me a shot," said the new Transformer. "What's the worst that could happen, right? You guys are okay with that, right?"

Sideswipe gave him a double thumbs-up. "Of course!" said Elita. "Like Optimus always said, freedom is the right of all sentient beings. And that includes the freedom to exist! Now go and have some fun!"

That was exactly what he was going to do. "I will have some fun!" he said, posing dramatically. "Look out, Beach City! Here comes Steven-slash-Connie! Or Stevonnie! Or whoever I am!" With that, he took off running towards the town. He leapt into the air to transform, only to tumble down into the sand, as he hadn't scanned an altmode yet. "I'm good!" He resumed running.

Elita watched him disappear into the distance. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asked Magnus.

"Of course I am," he said, patting her on the back. "They'll be fine. They have each other, after all."

"Let's see…how about 'Tailpipe?'" he suggested, noticing one on a parked car. "Nah, that sounds dirty." He passed by an auto store selling decals "Maybe 'Decal?' Uh-uh, that's dumb." The light ahead turned red, so he stopped to let the cars go by. "And something tells me that 'Stoplight' is out of the question."

So far, his quest for a name had turned up nothing particularly worthwhile. His search for an altmode had been met with similar results. He had seen his fair share of sweet rides, but none of them stood out any more than the other. If only an old-timey zeppelin flew by overhead, then it would be in the bag.

Many of the cars going by were souped up and modified beyond what was probably legal in most states. "Dang, is there some kind of convention in town?" he wondered. "If I scanned one of those, I'd fit right in. But I dunno…is that really the style I'm looking fo–Oh. My. Primus."

And then, like the Primes themselves had answered his prayers, he saw it. Among the legions of fancy cars, one stood out among the rest. Painted in bright reds, oranges, and yellows, it had flames adorning its sides. The vehicle's engine jutted out from beneath its hood, and a spoiler extended from its rear. This, he knew, was his destined altmode.

The Combiner whistled as he observed the car. "Now that's a hot rod!" he exclaimed. Carefully, not wanting to accidentally botch the process, he began to scan it. He could not afford an improper job–his entire existence depended on this moment. But then, the light turned green, and it began to drive away. "No, wait, wait!" He took off running just as he got the last finishing touches of the scan.

His body then took on the car's characteristics. No longer a protoform, he was now its color, complete with exhaust vents along his arms, and the spoiler on his back creating fins that poked out from behind his shoulders. He examined his new appearance in a nearby window, which soon turned to admiring his reflection.

"Sweet chassis, handsome!" he said, smoothing out his nonexistent hair. "Come here often?" He then realized what he was doing, and after a pause, burst out laughing. "Jeez, I'm turning into Sideswipe! Alright, enough fooling around–let's see what this baby can do!"

With a backflip for good measure, he landed on the road in vehicle mode. Flames shot out from the pipes on his engine as he sped off down the asphalt, zipping past the shops. This was exhilarating–neither Steven nor Connie had experienced speed quite like this. If this had been a race, nobody would have been able to catch him.

Of course, zooming down the road at this speed meant ignoring any and all traffic laws. Countless horns honked at him as he cut off just about every driver in town, and it wasn't long before he had attracted the attention of law enforcement. To his dismay, he soon heard sirens approaching, and flashing lights on his tail.

His rear view mirrors showed a cop car in hot pursuit. "Aw, great–I'm gonna get dinged for disorderly driving before either of us is eighteen!" Though the sensible thing would be to pull over and apologize–surely being an Autobot gave one some sort of legal protection, after all–but his inner and outer speed demon refused to slow down. There was only one way out of this, and it didn't end with a ticket. "Catch me if you can, coppers!"

And so the chase began in earnest. The gestalt's speed was no longer for show–now it was a matter of life or death. A metaphorical matter, but still. The five-oh were closing in, but he had a trick up his sleeve. Everyone knows hot rods like these weren't just for show: his engine roared as the flames turned a bright blue color, and he shot off like a rocket.

"WHOOOOOO-HOOOOO!" he bellowed, feeling the wind on his windshield and the road beneath his tires. Unable to keep up, the cop car faded into the distance, but he didn't slow down one bit. He had a need for speed, and he wasn't about to stop until he'd had his fill.

Since the town was no longer sufficient to satisfy this need, he left Beach City in his dust to try his luck up in the mountains. Steven and Connie may have thought twice about racing down the perilous narrow roads at these speeds, but he was his own bot now. He was free to live his life exactly how he liked it: as fast as he could. He shot down the one-lane road mere inches from the guardrail, finally knowing what it was like to live dangerously.

But his fun was not to last, as he could just make out the sound of another engine roaring behind him. "Did they catch up with me already?" he wondered, worried if and how the cops had found him. But what came up was the exact opposite of a police cruiser: it was a bright yellow sports car, moving at speeds he could only dream of.

The vehicle lacked the bells and whistles of the specially-modified street racers he had seen, but what it lacked in rawness it more than made up for in sheer sleek style. And far from a city car, this speeder proved it could handle a bit of dirt. As the road was too narrow for them both, the yellow one drifted onto the side of the mountain itself.

Time seemed to move slowly as the Gestalt stared up at the vehicle passing him. Through the window, he could make out a young man at the driver's seat, who looked to be in his element. Whoever he was, he turned towards them and winked as he sped on by. For a moment, he was stunned, staring at the yellow car as it raced on down the road.

His senses soon came back, and he realized he couldn't let this stand. "Oh, it's on!" He sped up to his very limit, determined to keep his rival in his sight. Sparks flew as he scraped his paint against the rail, but he didn't care. As long as he caught up with that mysterious driver, it would be worth it. The car stayed just out of reach, but it couldn't escape, either. "C'mon, just a little further…"

Just as he was beginning to gain ground, the car suddenly veered to the side, its tires screeching against the asphalt as it swerved. Another car had suddenly come the other way, and the combiner's rival had slammed on the brakes to avoid it. He once again slid up onto the side of the mountain, though there wasn't enough room for Steven/Conne to do the same.

Running the risk of colliding with one of two cars, the Gestalt resorted to the only option available to him: transforming. Quickly shifting to robot mode, he leapt up over the oncoming vehicle, just narrowly avoiding a wreck. It was only after he was in midair that he realized he had just hurled himself off the side of the mountain.

Faced with tumbling down the cliffside, he instinctively held out his hands. Lucky for him, this caused the vents on his arms to shoot out jets of fire, providing just enough propulsion to carry him back onto the road. Transforming back into a car, he then sped off, his impressed opponent watching with the belief that he had planned that all out.

Back on the road, and ahead of his rival no less, he sped on. "Hey, how's my dust taste back there?" he called, though the other guy probably couldn't hear him. Either way, it evidently didn't taste that great, as he was quickly approaching from behind. "How can one car be so fast!?" He kept on racing, flames shooting out of his pipes.

This feeling was exhilarating. Racing along the mountain as fast as he could was one thing, but it somehow got a million times better when a little competition was added into the mix. He was going to win. He just knew it. He was nearing the finish line…

Wait, was that an actual finish line? Up ahead, where the road widened into a parking lot, a number of people were clustered around the entrance in anticipation. As soon as the combiner passed through the wooden arch, they erupted into cheers. Although he wasn't sure why exactly they were here, he was overjoyed to hear their applause–all for him. He transformed to bask in their adoration, waving to all of his fans.

Mere moments later, the yellow sports car pulled into the lot. It slid to a stop, many of the audience crowding around it. As the driver stepped out, he was lauded by them for his driving ability and coolness under pressure. "Never thought I'd see the day when an Autobot decided to crash our little circuit. That was some pretty slick driving out there, slick!"

Slick…would that work as a name? Maybe, but it wasn't the one he wanted. "You weren't too bad yourself!" he replied. "I don't think I've ever seen someone pull off moves like that outside of the movies. You've got a lot to teach me, if you'd be willing!"

The other racer smirked, making his way over. "Tell you what, big guy: we're having another race tonight, just outside of town. You'd be able to show off your sick skills more if you joined us at the starting line this time. Whaddya say?"

Opportunities like this didn't come every day. "I'll be there!" he said, trying to at least somewhat hide his excitement. "Just don't be surprised if I leave you all in the dust!"

"That's the kind of attitude that'll get you the gold!" said the driver. He got back into his car, pulling up next to him. "By the way, name's Kevin. What should I call you?"

He thought for a moment. "Uh, well, I…don't really have a name yet. But I'm workshopping it–I'll have it ready the next time I see you! Which will be tonight. So uh, better look out, Kevin!"

"Heh, see you there, hot rod!" The window closed, and Kevin sped off down the road. His many fans piled into their cars and followed close behind.

Hot Rod…sometimes, things just worked out nicely.

"So I was bumper-to-bumper with this other guy, right? I thought we were gonna wreck right there on the mountainside, so I did the only thing I could think of: I launched myself right off the edge! And then, in midair, I engaged by boosters, giving me juuust enough reach to make it back to the road! I tell ya, that was the point when Kevin knew I was first place material!"

Having regaled the other Autobots with his recent misadventures, Hot Rod made it quite clear that he was looking forward to tonight. "You…ran from the police?" said Elita.

"Yeah, but they didn't see me," Hot Rod assured her. "Now, Kevin says that the next race is gonna be tonight, somewhere outside of town. He asked for me specifically to be there, but hey, far be it from me to hog all the glory to myself. Anyone else wanna burn rubber out there?"

"Sure, sounds like fun!" Sideswipe moved to get up, but Elita pushed him back down.

"No, nobody's burning any rubber," Elita said. "Stev–er, Hot Rod, I know this is an exciting new experience for you, but I'm not sure I'm comfortable with you getting involved in these…less-than-legal activities. Not to mention, street racing is as dangerous as it is illegal."

Hot Rod just chuckled. "Elita, Elita, Elita. I appreciate your concern for my well-being, but I'm not a helpless little kid anymore. Both Steven and Connie have lent me their years of expertise, forming me into the lean, mean, racing machine you see before you now."

"Yes, all twelve years each of their experience," Magnus said. "And about five each were likely spent as a helpless little grub. And Steven only recently began joining us on missions. So that all adds up to about seven years total, give or take?"

"Hey, don't undermine my cool rebel factor," said Hot Rod. "So, I have a little fun outside the law, what's wrong with that. Am I to believe none of you have ever done a little lawbreaking before?"

Almost on instinct, Sideswipe raised his hand. "Not any human laws, no," replied Elita.

He only chuckled. "Well, there you go! The way I see it, at the end of the day, there's no harm in breaking a few rules, especially if it's all in good fun. Steven and Connie don't always do what they're supposed to, do they? And besides, compared to all of the dangerous stuff they've made it through, a little race should be a cakewalk!"

The three of them considered his points, but none of them were entirely convinced. "I'm still not sure I like the idea of you getting involved with this crowd," Elita said. "You barely even know this Kevin character."

"Oh, Kevin's the coolest!" Hot Rod gushed. "You should've seen him out there! I mean, he's not as cool as me, of course, but anybody who can drive like that without actually being their car is worthy of admiration in my book! And if he thinks I've got what it takes, then I know I've got what it takes!"

"What does it take, exactly?" asked Sideswipe.

"Tenacity, grit, and more than a little elbow grease," Hot Rod replied. "All of which I've got comin' out of my audio processors." He glanced down at his wrist, even though there was nothing there. "I'd love to stay and shoot the breeze, but there's only six hours until the race. I should practice my drifting if I want to stand any chance of impressing my new pals. Don't wait up!"

Before anyone could say anything, Hot Rod transformed and sped out of the room, leaving smoking tire tracks in his wake. "Primus help us, he's another Sideswipe," Magnus said quietly.

Either ignoring or not caring about the remark, Sideswipe watched as Hot Rod sped off into the distance. "So, uh, someone should go and keep an eye on him, right? To make sure he doesn't get in any trouble? You guys seem busy, this seems more like something I'd excel at, I'll see you later." He began to get up, but once more, Elita pushed him back down.

"Out of the question," she said. "One street racer in the family is bad enough, we don't need two! No, I'll handle this myself. I'll observe everything from the air, and step in if he gets into trouble."

"And I will monitor the situation from Teletraan," said Magnus. "I'm not sure what I'm more worried about: him getting into a wreck, or him getting arrested. Or impounded."

Sideswipe once again looked out the door. "Hey, if I can't join in, can't I at least watch?" he asked.

"No," they both replied.

Hot Rod needed somewhere to practice, preferably without anyone around to interrupt him and/or report him to the police. Anywhere in the city was out of the question, but he also didn't want any of Kevin's fellow racers to pick up on his secret techniques, so he couldn't just go where the race was being held. After a little while of driving, he reached a suitable spot on the beach where he could practice in peace.

"Elita's just being protective, right?" he said to himself, speeding down the sand. "She's always like that. Just looking out for me. I mean, she's never even met the guy, how can she know what he's like?" He weaved around some sand piled up into mounds, skidding on the unsteady surface.

He waited a moment, before replying to his own questions. "You barely know the guy either. Why are you doing all this stuff to impress him?" He sighed. "'Cause he's cool, that's why! What, am I not supposed to wanna be his friend?" Frustrated, he drove head-on through one of the sand piles, scattering it all over himself. His speed quickly brushed it off, as it did when he did the same thing a few more times.

With his obstacle course having turned into target practice, Hot Rod skidded to a halt, transforming. He landed on his feet, but quickly fell down, though not out of losing his balance. "I have a name, a look, a passion…and I still can't figure out who I am. Can I really base my whole identity on what this one guy thinks of me?"

He turned to the side. "Well, of course I can. People do that all the time, don't they? I mean, Connie pretty much just follows Steven around, and Steven himself essentially emulates Optimus." This was supposed to be reassuring, but it only served to make him feel worse. "Oh…maybe I'm just destined to be a poser. It's in my CNA…my whatever it is humans have…"

Rolling back onto his back, he looked up at the clouds. "You know what? I do define myself based on other people, and so what? I'm literally made of other people! Together, Steven and Connie make up everything I am, and I'm okay with that!" Getting to his feet, he shifted the burners on his arms slightly forward. "Time to get serious!"

Extending his arms, he shot jets of flame down at the sand below. Gradually, he was able to forge a path out of glass, creating a suitable track for himself. And after adding several spikes by torching more sand piles, he had made a passable obstacle course.

"I'd like to see Kevin race on a course like this!" he said, proud of his work. And now that it was finished, it was time to try it out. Hot Rod transformed, patiently waiting for an imaginary countdown. When the imaginary lights turned green, he sped off, his tires only skidding on the slick surface for a brief second.

Soon after, he became accustomed to running along the track, only smacking into the obstacles a few times. The more laps he ran, the better he got, soon dodging anything that could stand in his way with ease. In his mind's eye, each glass spike was another racer, each tight turn ran the risk of throwing him off the mountain. It got to the point where he could run the course with his eyes closed–metaphorically, seeing as he was a car, which tended to lack eyes.

He skidded to a stop, kicking up a flurry of sand. "I'm ready." Hot Rod transformed, looking over the horizon as the wind blew. "All my…couple minutes of training are finally about to pay off. That trophy is mine–and with it, Kevin's everlasting respect. Time to roll out!"

With only a couple hours until the race, he sped off to make sure he got there on time. Showing up fashionably early would let them know how dedicated he was–but then again, he didn't want to appear too eager. Maybe fashionably late was the way to go.

Eh. He'd wing it.

As it turned out, 'just outside of town' didn't paint much of a picture as to the race's actual location. Hot Rod had assumed it would be not far from the spot in the mountains where they had been earlier, but he couldn't find any trace of those souped-up rides. It took a little while of aimlessly driving around, but he found it eventually.

It was like something out of a movie. Throngs of people covered the street, and the air was filled with the sounds of revving engines. Cars of all shapes and sizes were being shown off by their proud owners, most of them modified beyond the point of recognition. Of course, there were a fair amount of next-gen sports cars as well, one of which he recognized right away. "Hey, it's Kevin!"

The owner of the yellow speedster lowered his glasses as Hot Rod pulled up. "If it isn't my good old Auto-buddy! Some of the guys were sure you wouldn't show. Glad you proved 'em wrong!"

"You kiddin'? I wouldn't miss this for the world!" Hot Rod said. To blend in better, he had projected a holographic avatar of a driver at the wheel, a handsome youth with fiery red hair. "Hey, there's no ante-ing up to run, is there? 'Cause I left my checkbook at home."

Kevin chuckled, after which the others surrounding him did too. "Nah, no stakes here 'cept for the thrill of victory and the sting of defeat. You ready to do anything it takes to bring home the gold?"

Hot Rod knew he was. "Oh, I was born ready! …Hold on, didn't you say there was no actual–ah, right, the figurative gold. Still ready!"

"Then let's get ready to burn rubber!" Snapping and pointing at Hot Rod, Kevin then slid into the driver's seat. The crowd began to disperse as the other racers took their positions by the starting line. There were a fair amount of cars that Hot Rod had seen around town earlier that day. One of the drivers, in the car that Hot Rod had scanned, was shooting him periodic glares.

A scantily-clad woman with a flag walked out in front of them all. "Racers, ready!" she shouted, raising the flag. Everyone revved their engines. She held it there for a moment, before swinging it down. Like a rocket, each of the cars shot out across the line and down the road, blasting smoke behind them.

Hot Rod had never felt more alive in his less than twenty-four hours of life. The cars on either side jostled him as he and they tried to muscle their way ahead, but he saw that Kevin had quickly snuck his way ahead of the pack. For someone that cool, of course he'd made it look easy. In an effort to follow his lead, Hot Rod slowed down slightly, allowing the two racers to his left and right to pull ahead.

Now with only each other to worry about, both cars tried to pull ahead of the other. While they were distracted, Hot Rod sneakily moved to the side, before flooring it and blasting ahead. Both opponents were left in the dust as he cackled to himself in triumph.

But that was only a small victory; there were still many racers left to go. Onward he sped, darting and weaving his way to first place. He wasn't sure he would be able to beat Kevin, but he was for sure not going to take defeat lying down.

Another vehicle bumped into him from behind, trying to force its way past. "Not makin' it that easy, pal!" Hot Rod activated his boosters, pushing himself to full speed. In addition to causing flames to shoot out from his pipes, this also filled the air with a smokescreen, blinding the racers behind him. This dual-pronged maneuver not only prevented him from being passed, but also launched him ahead of several more cars. "Ha-ha! Yeah, now we're really racing! Move it or lose it, chumps!" He rammed into some of the slower cars, running a few off the road in the process.

Only a few more cars stood between him and the lead. But these ones would not be pushed around or tricked so easily–in fact, they looked to be the ones who would be doing the tricking and pushing. A particularly bulky hummer weaved back and forth, refusing to let him pass.

"Alright, big guy, let's dance!" Hot Rod matched the giant's movements, hoping to psych him out. The heavily-armored vehicle was way too heavy to simply push aside, and its driver was too vigilant for him to slip past normally. "How 'bout we try this!"

If quasi-legal street racing had rules, there very well may have been a clause against transforming your car into a humanoid form and making usage of all the advantages that granted. But seeing as Hot Rod hadn't read the rules, if they indeed existed, at least he had plausible deniability. Plus, Kevin knew he was a Transformer, so he would have told him if such things weren't allowed. Besides, what was wrong with using your natural gifts to your advantage?

Transforming into robot mode, Hot Rod leapfrogged onto the back of the hummer, launching himself ahead of it. He transformed once again in midair, landing back on his wheels. "What the–That's not sporting, you little punk!"

"Street rules!" he called back as he left the hummer in the dust. He approached the next set of cars, which suddenly pulled apart as another one came skidding towards them. Hot Rod swerved to narrowly avoid the vehicle, which from the looks of things had just come out the weaker party in a skirmish with Kevin. Leaving the unfortunate racer behind, Hot Rod mentally noted that he'd have to be smarter when their clash inevitably came.

Seeing an opportunity, he threaded the needle between the two cars that had just pulled aside, leaving him with only one car between him and his rival/idol. Like the hummer, this one refused to give him an opportunity to pass, and having seen his previous trick, refused to let him close enough to leap over it. The longer this went on, the more frustrated Hot Rod became, as it prolonged the time between him and Kevin's fateful clash.

"Come on, come on, move it!" he muttered, honking his horn, to no response. Having made it into second place, it was obvious that this guy was good. If he was gonna pass him, he'd have to fight dirty. Speeding up, he rammed into the car's bumper. As they were already going about as fast as they could, this didn't have much of an effect. The driver retaliated by ramming him in turn, though this could work in his favor.

Just as the racer ahead of him sped back, Hot Rod swerved to one side. Once his obstacle was close enough, he partially transformed, just enough for his arm to emerge. He grabbed onto the vehicle's bumper, pulling it back behind him. The car swerved to avoid driving off the road, its driver cursing him out as he passed into second place. It was just him and Kevin now.

Pulling up beside him, he honked to get his attention. "Fancy meeting you here!" he said. He tried to push his way into first, but Kevin wouldn't allow it. The two remained neck-and-neck, barrelling down the road.

"I knew I was right about you, bro!" Kevin said, as he shifted his vehicle into high gear. "But don't think that I'm about to give you special treatment!"

"Wouldn't have it any other way!" replied Hot Rod. He fell back, darting ahead after his feint. Kevin anticipated his move, slamming on the brakes so Hot Rod slammed into his bumper. Unlike the previous cars, this impact rattled Hot Rod a bit. What was this thing made of? "Wanna play like that, huh?"

For his next trick, Hot Rod partially transformed once more, but Kevin saw what he had done earlier. He sped ahead, only allowing the Gestalt to grab onto his bumper. Kevin swerved back and forth to try and throw him off, but he held strong. Not without a good bit of difficulty, however.

After a moment of not being able to shake him, Kevin began running close to the mountain, jerking back suddenly to slam him against the edge. This almost worked, with one of Hot Rod's hands losing grip. But before he could be thrown against the mountainside one last time, he flung himself forwards, transforming back into vehicle mode. "You're gonna have to try harder than that to get rid of me!"

"Big words for someone in second place!" Kevin shot back, throwing his wheel to the side. He rammed into Hot Rod, very nearly running him off the road, but he was able to push back. Sparks flew as the two cars' sides grinded together, each jockeying for control.

By this point, the road became much more winding and narrow, turning into a much more hostile proving ground. Now the rivals were forced at each other's side by necessity and not simply competition. They were still locked in a clash for the lead, though, neither willing to give the other an inch.

Before long, a sharp turn appeared in the distance. Hot Rod knew an opportunity when he saw one, slowing down slightly. As Kevin pulled ahead, he turned into a drift just behind him. As soon as they came across the turn, his opponent was forced to slow down to make it, while Hot Rod activated his boosters, rocketing down the road. He pulled into first, though Kevin was still hot on his tail.

"Not bad, rookie!" he said. "But there's something you didn't count on!" Kevin then flipped a switch on his dashboard, and with a loud hiss, the flame shooting out of his tailpipe turned a bright blue. His car was launched forward, nearly crashing into Hot Rod, who was only barely able to hold onto his lead.

Hot Rod had to keep the heat on to stay ahead, literally. Flames shot out of his pipes, throwing him forward and onto his back wheels. Somehow, someway, he was doing it: he was actually beating Kevin. Even though this is what he had been striving for since the beginning of the race, part of him never imagined he'd actually be able to keep up.

"I don't think you counted on this!" he said, swerving to maintain his lead. As the road was too narrow, Kevin was unable to pass. However, something Hot Rod saw took his attention away from the race.

Though most of his focus was on the road ahead, a tiny glint of light from above caught his eye. A glance revealed that it was from something flying through the air. At first thinking it was merely a plane, a closer look revealed to Hot Rod that it was something–someone–much more familiar. He'd recognize those two rotary propellers anywhere.

"No…you're kidding!" The revelation that Elita was following him caused Hot Rod to slow down, allowing Kevin to dart past him. "Hey!"

"Snooze you lose, newbie!" Kevin shouted as he sped ahead. Not wanting to give up his victory so easily, Hot Rod gave chase, trying to put his pursuer out of his mind. That said, it wasn't easy. Just how long had she been tailing him? Was she going to swoop in at the last moment to take away his win, and lecture him about how he shouldn't be here? The thought of it made his energon boil.

Now more determined than ever to win, Hot Rod zoomed ahead, bumping into Kevin's bumper. "Don't count me out just yet!" Even if he couldn't find a way to pass him yet, he made sure to hang tightly onto his tail. He wouldn't let Elita ruin this for him.

Watching his rival through the mirror, Kevin smirked. "Oh? Maybe you just haven't learned yet…but I don't lose–especially not to rookies!" Kevin suddenly swerved to the side, then swerved back to bash into Hot Rod and send him skidding away. He then used this distraction to boost ahead.

A sudden cry came from above: "Steven! Connie!-er, both of you!" Seeing the impact, Elita had descended closer to the ground to check up on them. "Are you two alright? Do you need me to–"

"We're fine!" snapped Hot Rod. "I-I mean, I'm fine! Now if you'll excuse me, we have a race to win!" He sped off, leaving Elita behind. At least, he meant to, as she still followed him closely.

It didn't take long for Hot Rod to catch back up to Kevin, but it was hard for him to focus on the race with Elita hot on his heels. "Hot Rod, you need to stop this now!" she said. "Before somebody gets hurt!"

Hot Rod could just feel Kevin's mocking smirk from the car ahead. "Did Magnus put you up to this?" he asked. "I'm not a child! You can't tell me what to do!"

"Like it or not, you're still Steven and Connie!" she replied. "If you wanted to put yourselves in these sorts of situations, normally that would be fine–but do you really want to put them in danger?"

"They want this too! I am them!" he shouted, growing more heated as he imagined the mocking words Kevin was coming up with now. He pushed himself just a little bit more, soon catching up to his rival. The two were neck-and-neck, unable to lose the other while also unable to inch into first place.

All the while, Elita refused to let him throw himself into danger with no regard to his components. "Hot Rod, pull over now, or I'll be forced to intervene!" she shouted, delivering her ultimatum.

Hot Rod had enough of her meddling. "Go away!" he shouted. "Just leave me alone for five minute–"

This momentary distraction was all it took. Unknown to either of the racers, and unseen by Elita, another car had suddenly pulled up beside them. It was the same one that had been battling with Kevin earlier, thrown behind them by Hot Rod. A nitrous boost was now carrying it rapidly towards the two racers, its speed meaning it was unable to turn with much control. And with Hot Rod not focusing on the road behind him to swerve away in time…

The vehicle collided with Hot Rod, who careened into Kevin's car in turn. Knocked out of control, the three cars skidded all across the road, with next to nowhere to go. Kevin's emerged relatively unscathed, only ending up with a few dings as it came to rest next to the mountain. Hot Rod transformed as he tumbled, coming to a rest in the middle of the road. The third car was less lucky, breaking through the rail on the cliff's edge, stopping on its side just short of falling over.

"Hot Rod!" Elita dove down to the scene, transforming as she landed beside him. "Are you alright? Did you break anything?" She helped him to his feet.

"Urgh…just my ego," he responded, before suddenly pulling away. "Which I wouldn't have if you'd just left me alone!" The sound of a revving motor interrupted Hot Shot's tirade. Elita pulled him out of the road just in time for one of the racers to speed past…followed by another, and another. "No, no, no!"

Over the course of several seconds, the entire gamut of racers sped by, leaving both Kevin and Hot Rod in dead last. Kevin was still getting his bearings, but Hot Rod did not take this well, pulling out of Elita's grip and turning to face her.

"Now look at what you did!" he shouted. "Everything was perfectly fine, but no, you just had to barge in! Seriously, why are you getting so bent out of shape about what I wanna do!?"

Wordlessly, Elita made her way over to the crashed car. The driver inside was alive, but unconscious, and his vehicle was stable. "This. This is why." She turned to face him, her expression grave. "This, or worse, could just as easily have happened to you. And like I said, that wouldn't be so bad if you weren't made up of Steven and Connie. I don't want to have to bury the boy I raised, or the daughter of a woman I respect, just because of your adrenaline addiction."

Before he could come up with a rebuttal, Hot Rod was taken aback by how hurt her expression looked. She was angry, sure, but she was mostly…tired. "Yeah, well…I'm a Transformer, I doubt one little wreck would keep me down for long," he muttered, looking away. "We go on missions way more dangerous than a little race, so what's the big deal?"

"What the…look what you did!" a voice cried out. It was Kevin, who they had momentarily forgotten about. "I just had this thing painted! What's the matter with you two!?"

Elita turned towards him, looking less than impressed. "Considering you could have ended up as a stain on the road, that should be the least of your worries."

"Pssh, forget this, I've got a race to win!" he scoffed, before trying to start up his car. Elita gave Hot Rod a look while gesturing to the racer, causing him to turn away once again.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," he said quietly. "C'mon, let's just get this guy outta here before–" In his effort to rescue the other driver, the ground beneath him and the other car suddenly gave way. His first instinct was to grab hold of its bumper, managing to keep it from sliding off, but as he tried to pull it to safety, the unstable ground only further crumbled.

Elita immediately shot into action, leaping into the air and transforming. She lowered a winch onto the car, attempting to pull it back onto the ground. However, the road beneath Hot Rod finally caved in, leading to him falling as well. One hand still firmly latched onto the car, he reached out to grab the guardrail, which creaked and bent under both their weight, but held.

Both he and Elita tried to pull the car to safety, but they were in a tricky position. "Kevin! We could use a hand!" he called out, hoping against hope that the guy could do something. "Go get help or something!"

Observing their predicament for a moment, Kevin instead shifted his car into high gear. "Sorry, rookie…but I've got a race to win." He then sped down the road, not even sparing a second glance as he drove away, leaving the three of them to their fate.

"Kevin…" Hot Rod watched him go, stunned. His idol, the racer he looked up to most, had abandoned him. He couldn't fathom how something like this was possible. Sure, Kevin was only human, but he could have done something to help, right?

Meanwhile, the rail creaked as it began to give. "Hot Rod! Now is not the time for a pity-party!" said Elita, snapping him out of his funk. "We need to get this man back onto solid ground!"

"Easier said than done!" Hot Rod replied, feeling his handhold slowly loosening. Elita tried to pull the vehicle closer to the edge, but it was already unstable without the car's full weight on it. "Hang on…lemme see if I can wake him up!" Hot Rod tilted himself so that his leg was next to the car's door, kicking it a few times. "Hey, buddy! Up and at 'em, your life's in danger!"

Although Elita was skeptical of this tactic, to her surprise, the man eventually came to. "W-what? Huh? Where am I?" He rubbed his head as he looked around, before realizing with a start that he was hanging precariously over a cliffside. Needless to say, he freaked out. "T-t-t-that's a long way down! Get me outta here!" He frantically unbuckled himself before trying to climb out of the door currently facing up.

"Hey, careful, careful!" called Hot Rod, trying to calm him down. "We've got you, just don't freak out on us, now!" Unable to do anything thanks to his current situation, he didn't listen, latching into Elita's cable and refusing to let go. "Elita, let go!"

"Are you sure?" she asked, knowing this would surely result in the car careening down the cliffside, possibly meeting a fiery end. "What about you?"

Hot Rod smiled confidently. "Oh, I'll be fine! Just get this guy to safety, and I'll handle the rest!"

They didn't have time to come up with any better ideas, as the entire road was about to collapse. "I hope you know what you're doing!" said Elita, disconnecting her cable. As expected, the car tumbled to the ground below, with Hot Rod letting go before it could drag him down with it. Also as expected, it exploded upon hitting the ground.

Now free to use both hands, Hot Rod grabbed hold of the other barrier, hurling himself up just as the road crumbled. He extended his arms downwards, shooting jets of flame from his exhaust pipes to propel himself to safety. He landed against the side of the mountain, brushing himself off as Elita touched down beside him.

"Before you ask, yes, I'm alright," he said as she transformed. Their rescuee was unharmed, though shaken by his ordeal. "Uh, sorry about your car, man."

"I'm just glad to be alive," he said. "T-thanks, by the way. For not leaving me there to fall."

"An Autobot would never do something like that," Elita assured him. Of course, at that moment, she noticed Hot Rod getting back on the road and transforming. "Hot Rod! What do you think you're doing!?"

"Huh? I'm getting back in the race, what else?" he replied. "You can handle this guy, right?"

Elita groaned, placing a hand on her forehead. "That isn't the point. I just don't understand why this race is so important to you."

"Isn't it obvious?" he said, transforming once more. "This is what I wanna do with my life! Steven and Connie were unsure for so long, but now that they've combined, it's so obvious! We were meant to be a daredevil and speed demon, just like Kevin!"

"And that's another thing…is he really the sort of person you want as your role model?" she asked. "He seemed pretty casual about almost causing someone's death, not to mention how he left us without any sort of remorse."

"Well…what was he supposed to do?" Hot Rod retorted, though he had been wondering the same things as her. "Besides, it's not about him!" Both of them instantly knew that was a lie. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a race to win!" Turning back into a car, Hot Rod sped off down the road, hoping there was still time to make it back into first.

Elita shook her head. "I swear, he really is another Sideswipe…" She turned her attention back to the driver. Even though he seemed unhurt, it would be best to take him to the hospital, just to be safe. She just hoped Hot Rod wouldn't do anything stupid while she was gone.

"Elita doesn't know what she's talking about," he said to himself as he sped down the road. He took each turn just a bit faster than he should have, coming dangerously close to the edge each time. "It's fine. It's all fine. So what if Kevin didn't help? So what if he doesn't care if someone gets hurt? You have to have that killer instinct to win, don't you? Not everyone can be a hero. But…aren't we supposed to be? We are Autobots, after all."

Feeling more conflicted than ever, Hot Rod tried to put it out of his mind by going faster than ever. The slightest bump was enough to send him airborne for a second or two as he raced down the mountain. The finish line had to be close now. He was almost there–he could still win.

"I never asked to be an Autobot," he continued. "They can't make me. We…Steven and Connie aren't…but I'm…" He swerved a little, finding it harder and harder to focus. "What's going on? Why can't I…I thought you wanted to win! I never cared about winning, I just wanted to have fun! But this isn't fun anymore!"

Hot Rod finally lost control, skidding as he continued to slide downhill. He tried to regain his grip, both on the road and his mind, but both proved futile. Just when it looked like he was going to tumble down the mountain for real, he came apart–literally.

Steven and Connie both lay in the road, having found themselves unable to stay unified in the wake of these events. "Are you okay?" Steven asked, rubbing his head as he sat up.

"Ugh…physically, yeah," Connie replied. "What happened back there? When did we become so competitive?"

"I don't know," said Steven. "I guess it's something that comes out when we combined. Sometimes two bots combining can bring out some stuff that's not so pretty…Warpath taught me that."

Connie stood up, helping Steven to his feet as well. "Still, we wouldn't be acting that way if those feelings weren't already there. I guess…I guess I just wanted to be independent for a change. That must've bled into Hot Rod a bit more than was healthy."

"Yeah, I guess I just thought Kevin was so cool, I wanted him to think we were cool, too," said Steven. "But I guess he wasn't as cool as we thought."

She nodded. "Yeah." The two just stood there for a bit, unsure of what to say. "But I did have a lot of fun today."

"Me, too. We should do another race sometime," he replied. "Probably with less stakes, though."

Chuckling, Connie turned to face Steven. "I mean, yeah, the race was fun, but I meant just being Hot Rod. Being with you." Hearing this caused Steven to blush, rubbing the back of his head. "We should do this again sometime."

The two of them hugged. "It's a deal!" As they embraced, they could hear the sound of a motor approaching in the distance. Was one of the racers returning? However, it turned out to be Sideswipe, heading over from the direction of the finish line. "Sideswipe? Were you in the race?"

He transformed once he got closer. "Nah, Magnus wouldn't let me. I was watching at the end, though–everybody already finished. I got worried when you didn't show, so I went looking. Good to see you've got it all worked out!"

"So, uh…who won?" asked Connie.

Sideswipe shrugged. "Some kid in a yellow car. Everybody was chanting 'Kevin! Kevin! Kevin!' when he finished, so I guess his name was Kevin."

Steven and Connie looked at each other. "I guess he really is good," said the former.

"Welp, glad you learned to be careful who you look up to," Sideswipe said with a clap. "Now, how 'bout we head home?" He transformed again, opening his doors for them. "Hop on in!"

The pair shared another glance. "Um, actually, I think we'll take our own ride," Connie said. Her hand went to Steven's.

"Suit yourselves," Sideswipe said, driving off.

Now alone, they got closer, looking into each other's eyes. "Shall we?" asked Connie.

"As you wish!" replied Steven. He felt a stirring in his heart as he drew Connie into an embrace, resting his head on her shoulder. She rested her head on his in turn, feeling their heartbeats synchronize.

Once more, two became one. Hot Rod rose up, feeling a clarity he hadn't felt since the moment he first came into being. He turned to head back to Beach City…but couldn't help glancing over his shoulder one last time. He still had time to finish the race, even if it was in last place. Maybe Kevin would–"

"You know what? Forget Kevin." Hot Rod transformed, revving his engine. "If I'm gonna race for anyone, it's gonna be for me. Now…let's see if I can beat Sideswipe back to the Ark!"

Hot Rod sped off towards town, spewing flames all the way. It turned out Ultra Magnus had been right–he really enjoyed being him.

AN: Seeing as he's the successor to the Matrix of Leadership, it only makes sense that Steven is connected to Hot Rod somehow. This is the best way I could think of to make that happen!

Anyway, I wanted to post this chapter sometime before the new year, but I was on a break for Christmas, so whatever. It's here now, and that's what matters! Happy New Year, and I hope you liked it!