A New Life - Chapter 14 - Angel
Sentinel Prime x Reader
- Transformers One
The golden light of the waning day comes as a sweet caress through the sheer curtains, though little does its beauty matter as your eyes remain closed. A pleasant sigh leaves your lips as gentle servos carefully trail across your skin, touches delicate as they seem eager to explore something they’ve sought to worship for a long time already. Sentinel is careful as his digits explore and press here and there, but his optics force your eyes to open, for you can feel them staring. And see, their brilliant blue light is softer than the sunset, and he is akin to something wonderful and fantastical, too strange for your human mind to comprehend fully, but so beautiful it still tries to see it fully through the fog and the haze. How is it that he acts as though it is you who are the living artwork right now?
“My Angel,” he says, voice so soothing and deep as he leans down, his lips coming to meet with your own in a kiss that both surprises and relieves you. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Sleep, now. I will wait for you,” he says between kisses, digits trailing across your skin, lulling you to another deep rest as he holds you and keeps you warm.
With a hush you come to, awaking again, but now you see that this is the true one. What you just experienced was a dream, you realise that now as senses return in full, for you are alone in your room and you sit up at the sound of something outside the window. Cladding yourself in a warm robe you rise from the bed and approach the light to see outside; the world a white glare until your eyes becomes used to all the glittering white. Sentinel is outside, a splotch of gentle sky blue and stunning gold. He’s tending to the chickens, spreading feed over the ground he’d clearly brushed free of snow with just his pedes alone, the snow accumulated within the seams a clear giveaway at the work he’d done. You smile, seeing him strangely content and not at all uneasy at doing this job alone. He’s wearing the veil, too, its twin bells twinkling lightly with each movement, and the chickens cluck with content as they keep close to him; happy to be fed and protected. He is beautiful, you must admit; heart warming as you lay a hand upon your chest. The dream returns to the forefront of your mind, vivid and as clear as when you’d dreamt it, and a flush arises to your cheeks, and your heart skips a beat. That frightened, clingy mech you’d found in the forest just a few months back was almost gone, replaced by someone sweeter and more at ease with where he was. He wasn’t so afraid anymore, nervous at times, but that is to be expected when flashes of torments so suddenly may fall upon him.
Sometimes, you wish he’d indulge you about his past. It would make it easier to help him; understand him, but if it is something terrible, something he’s fearful of that may change your outlook upon him, then perhaps you could understand why he keeps his secret close; in a way. How terrible might they be? Bad enough for you to wish pain upon him? Enough to make you hate him, perhaps? It’s a troubling thought, not one you wish to entertain, but the mind wanders and you are inquisitive. That curious nature will only grow the closer you get to him; you’ll want to learn about who he truly is, who he used to be, who he wants to become.
Staring at him, seeing the gold of his armour amidst the frigid white, you find it is his face you admire most of all. So expressive, so gentle, so unashamed as it openly adores you at times. Is he aware that he does it? That he stares as if you were a shimmering star, or a flower waving with the summer’s wind? You’ve believed it was his way of unconsciously speaking of his gratitude to you; the only way he could properly tell you how happy he is to have been rescued by you. But then again, he has thanked you, have shown you that he is grateful for what you’ve done, then what… What could those expressions mean?
Groaning, you run a hand over your face, ignoring the pestering voice in the back of your head and instead go to properly dress yourself for the day. A splash of water to your face chases away any lingering remnants of the dream for now, and a slice of fresh bread with some butter and honey will do wonders to cheer you up for the day. And it does so splendidly, until you come outside and the cold immediately flings needles of hurt upon your cheeks and nose.
“Shit, it’s freezing,” you huff and your breath mists as it comes out, making you appear more like a chimney than anything else. Sentinel visibly perks up at your appearance, his wings spreading out behind him, like a bird; eager to impress. “Why didn’t you wake me?” you ask, chasing away the fluttering of your heart by raising a brow at him. “It’s already noon.”
“What, am I to be your personal alarm in the morning? Eager to ring the bells of my veil in hopes that their feeble little twinkles will gently waken you?” he asks, sweetness melting away to reveal the bastard beneath it all. You smile and keep the laughter at bay. He happily returns it, though not without some obvious pride at having brightened your mood. “If so, then I’m so sorry, my dear, but that won’t do for a mech of my station.”
“And what is your station?” you ask, coming up to stand before him, the chickens the only thing standing between you.
“That of the fearless leader and protector of our beloved chickens,” he says, proud as a rooster.
“You didn’t wake up that long ago either, did you?”
“… Well, no,” he admits, “but fear not, our chickens weren’t too angry—or, perhaps Isabella was, but the rest didn’t mind waiting a little longer for their food.” And he pretends not to smile as you laugh, but his wings flutter and he tries to distract himself by throwing the last of the food for them. It works well, until you speak again.
“Whatever you say, chicken master.”
“Don’t say it like that.”
“Why? Makes you feel silly?”
It’s impossible to keep the snort at bay but you show him mercy by moving past before giggles threaten to overtake you. From behind, Sentinel makes a strange sound before walking on after you, his low grumbles fading as he watches your head move to observe the barn as you approach. The walls look good, new wooden boards doing their job well with keeping most of the chill out, and though the inside isn’t exactly warm, it at least isn’t frigid. Sentinel hadn’t been cold when he awoke, the straw doing its job well by keeping his back and sides well protected, and the woollen blanket had done splendidly by trapping the heat he generated without trouble. Perhaps he could drape it across your shoulders to give you some extra warmth. The act would make you happy, he was sure of it, but the bonus would also be that your scent will stick onto the wool for a little while, too. He wouldn’t mind playing pretend that it is you he’s clinging onto as he goes into recharge.
“Ready to add strength to the support beams of the roof today?” you ask, turning around and rubbing your hands, bringing him out of his thoughts.
“Hm, I suppose I’m the one to hold those beams whilst standing on shaking pedes on that clearly-not-centuries-old-ladder of yours?”
“It’s a few years old, dummy. And it’s an industrial ladder so you’ll be fine. It’s meant to carry heavy loads.”
“You’re calling me heavy?”
“You’re made of metal, dude! Of course you’re heavy.”
“The audacity! My armour is of the lightest but sturdiest Cybertronian—Stop moving your fingers like that I am not yapping!”
You cackle and duck as he goes to flick your forehead, scurrying away as he quickly comes after you but you’re much faster and agile, sneaking beneath his outstretched arms before hurrying over to the beams, pointing down at them.
“Get to work, pretty bird. The more we get done today, the less the chance of the roof collapsing once we get heavy snowfall there’ll be.”
“You’re so reassuring, you know that?” Sentinel teased but didn’t fight you, his spark tingling at your sweet nickname. Might as well get this done quickly so there’ll be more time for you and him to spend inside your home; your willingness to let him inside your living room growing bigger the more satisfied you are with him. There is but a soft hum in response from you as your jacket is removed, leaving you in only a woollen sweater that has seen better days; clearly used for cold winter days work. “No heavy lifting for you,” he says, sending a look as you roll your eyes. “I won’t be hearing any pained groans at the end of this day.”
“Yes, mom,” you reply, grinning as he shakes his helm at you, though he is smiling so you’ll take that as a win.
There is less swearing than there were when you worked on the outside of the barn, though you’re certain that a lot of the gibberish Sentinel is muttering isn’t poetry, if his increasingly frowning face doesn’t hint at his displeasure of holding wooden support beams still as you secure them in place is anything to go by. He’ll be happy once he realises that the old ones were rotten and close to collapsing, whilst these new ones will keep the barn roof secure for many more years to come, as long as you can keep moisture at bay.
Still, it is a little tense, and you choose not to tease him as he works hard to keep everything steady and safe for your sake, so you work quickly. One after another, the time keeps ticking, and the day is starting to come to an end as the work is near completion. There are only a few extra screws and nails that needs adding here and there, but as the both of you come down to have a short little rest, Sentinel suddenly tenses up; his wings flicking high as his helm turns to the side. You’re about to ask what’s wrong when you hear it too, an engine. It’s distant but it must be a powerful beast because it’s so loud you can almost feel it in your chest.
“It’s either some cocky rich boy from the city going for a long drive where he thinks he won’t be caught by the cops, or it’s either an old man who’s just used the last of his money on some fancy sport’s car,” you say, huffing but flinching back a little as Sentinel’s servo suddenly shoots up. Worst still, he shushes you. “What are you—” You begin to ask but cut yourself short as the sound of the engine grows louder, louder, until you’re squinting as you realise that it’s driving down your road, coming towards the farm. “Bloody hell.” The curse is swift, but your ducking manoeuvre is even swifter as Sentinel tries to grab you; tries. More of that alien gibberish that sounds like metallic clunking and scraping grazes your ears from behind as you’re quick with leaving the barn before Sentinel can make a grab for you again, and as you suspect, he doesn’t follow once you’re outside. He’s scared, and that has you furious.
A car anything you’ve ever seen is pulling up to your farm, white and blue with red detailing, clearly built for a racing track. It’s clean and far too low to the ground. Honestly, it’s a miracle the underside isn’t completely ruined by all the holes and speedbumps in the roads leading here. This isn’t the city; there are few who bothers to even have a faraway thought of fixing the roads this far out in the countryside. So, that leaves the question; what the hell is a car like this doing all the way out here?
The person inside spots you standing in the middle of the open ground, your hands on your hips as you glare them down. They stop and kill the engine, much to your fuming gratitude. Honestly, how much noise can a piece of machinery truly make, infuriating. The door opens and a man comes outside, and you blink as the hairs on the nape of your neck stand on end. Something just feels… wrong. He looks wrong, moves wrong as he steps towards you, his smile weirdly stiff and his skin strangely… perfect? He’s too perfect looking; not a blemish or imperfection to be spotted. It’s unnerving to look at; uncanny in every sense of the word, and your body goes stiff; ready to flee or attack. Luckily, he stops before he’s too close, and you relax ever so little.
“Can I help you?” you ask, tone accusatory as you stare him down. He blinks as his mouth opens to speak, but he pauses, clearly surprised at the hostility you’re portraying. “I don’t fancy uninvited guests on my property, especially not those who must declare their arrival for the whole area. I swear I could hear that obnoxious engine echo all the way to the nearby valley and back.”
The man shrinks under your words, and if you didn’t know better, it’s almost as if his car… sunk? Lowered further to the ground? You weren’t sure, the movement could have been a trick of the eye, but it’d caught your sight, nonetheless. You look at it for a minute, but nothing happens, and so you return your glare to the man instead.
“I-I apologise for the intrusion, miss,” he says, his voice as young as his looks, and even a little nervous. At least he understands that he isn’t welcomed here. “I won’t steal too much of your time, but I was just curious on whether you’d seen or heard anything strange in this area recently?” he asked, tone careful as he clearly didn’t wish to agitate you any further. That was a task failed, seeing as your annoyance would only grow the longer he stayed, but his youth had the unfortunate effect of quenching most of the fire within. You didn’t want to be too harsh, just in case he’d been forced to come out here on the behalf of someone else’s orders. “There have been some sightings of odd… uhm… Of odd creatures and shapes these past days, and I have been sent out to inspect and see if there needs to be a proper investigation of these, uh, so-called rumours.”
“What, are you a part of the police? Or just some noisy intern boy for the reporters down in the city?” you ask, tilting your head as you glance at his car again. “They send out people in cars like that to ask questions like these?” You take a few steps closer to him, even as you don’t like the feelings he inflicts by simply just… being. Still, he visibly tenses the closer you come, and he casts his head down. It makes him seem more innocent and unsure, so you stop just a few steps away from him. “Are you mocking my intelligence, boy?”
“W-what? N- no, no! Not at all—”
“Oh, please, you’re in a race car, you’re wearing a leather jacket and what looks like just a t-shirt underneath, and your whole face is giving off… strange… unsure… vibes,” you say, uncertain on how to properly word what you’re feeling, but you cross your arms as you take a breath. He’s not looking at you now, instead, he’s staring at your boots. The frown in your brow lessens.
“I-I’m a…” He clears his throat, or he tries to. It doesn’t seem like it’s something he’s ever done before, seeing as it’s more like a sound he makes than an action he performs. “I’m a private investigator.”
“… Right.” Now, this is just pitiful.
“And we—I just need to ensure that the people of this quiet region aren’t at the risk of—of something bad happening to them,” he says, straightening up and looking you in the eye again. He tries so hard to seem confident and sure of himself, it’s almost cute. You must resist the urge to laugh in his face.
“That’s right, s-so if you’d be so kind, then I would like to hear if—”
“Look, we both realise that you’re not very good at this, right?”
The corner of your mouth twitches and you resist the laughter that wishes to come bubbling forth. The man clearly notices that you’ve become amused at his poor attempt at… whatever it is he’s trying to do, and he frowns and puts on a strong face before opening his mouth to speak again. You don’t let him.
“Listen, there’s nothing abnormal happening here besides you coming uninvited into my farm. My life is as quiet as it’s ever been, my chickens are calm and well fed, and they are scared of anything strange goings, which is why they scrambled in a panic at your noisy arrival,” you say, and again, he shrinks. It’s like staring at a kicked puppy and you can’t help but feel a little bad for him. “So, Investigator,” you continue, and he almost seems a little brighter at the title you used, “Everything is well here. You have nothing to worry about; believe me.” And you set your palms together and smile at him to which he looks away almost shyly, and now you must bite your tongue, so you don’t snort in amusement. Cute, that look of a small achievement granted is cute. “So, is everything alright, then?”
“Uh—Yes, of course!” He says, more than a little excited, and again he makes that odd sound as if trying to mimic clearing his throat, and then he takes a breath, as if he just remembered that he was supposed to do that. It’s only then you’d realised he’d been oddly still; chest not moving at all. It makes the unease grow within you, even as his young mannerisms are adorable, to some extent. “Sorry for the interruption,” he says and turns before walking back to the car. Then, he stops, turns around and looks at you, and gives a strange smile and a hesitant wave. “Good—uhm—Goodbye—Lovely farm you have here, by the way.” He spoke so fast you almost didn’t catch any of that, but the confused wave you give in return seem to lighten his spirit, and he jumps into the car, and you swear the engine comes to life before he’s even properly sat in. At least he’s leaving as fast as he arrived, even if the noise is as loud as ever.
You’re happy to hear the thundering rumble grow further away this time, though.
“That was a Cybertronian,” comes Sentinel’s frantic voice as he pulls you inside the barn once you’re close enough, almost smashing the door to pieces as he flings it closed. He’s clinging onto you, his servos shaking as he turns those bright optics down to look into your own bewildered eyes. “I could feel it. His EM-field trickled all the way over here; anxious and curious and…” he frowned and stopped himself from saying another word as something akin to jealousy flashed across his faceplate. You raised an eyebrow at him. “I could feel him,” he chooses to continue instead, “and I’m pretty sure he could feel me too. His side-view mirror tilted in my direction as you spoke to him.”
“Would they be able to tell that it’s you?” you ask, choosing to set aside the teasing and the amusement you’d felt, instead settling on allowing the unnerving nature of it all to come forth again. As cute as that man had been, you had at least been able to unconsciously understand that he wasn’t human. The car, or him, as it must have been, had definitely moved then.
“I… I don’t know.” And Sentinel truly didn’t know and it terrified him. Was he not to be given a second chance? Was he to be torn away from the new life he’d begun to build for himself for the crimes he’d committed so, so long ago? Was he unforgivable?
“Hey,” your voice comes through the mist as you grasp his cheeks, and he stares down at you; hopeless. “They won’t take you. I won’t let it happen.”
He huffs, and despite himself, he smiles.
“What? I’m just a human?” you ask, smiling. “Yeah, I am, and we humans are driven by sheer, unrelenting willpower when it comes to something we love; especially when that something is threatened to be taken away from us.” And you urge him down so you may embrace him, and he melts into it, falling to his knees. “I don’t know how, but I’ll tear the world apart before I let them take you, Sentinel. I refuse to allow that frightened, sorrowful expression return to your face again. It won’t happen. I won’t let it.”
Sentinel chuckles, a sad little sound, but it’s there and he holds you tighter as optic cleanser trickles across his cheeks. He didn’t want to cry again, but you had such a way of making him feel… loved; wanted, and how could that not bring him to tears.
And there is that feeling again… That soft, warm tingle in your chest as Sentinel moulds against you like a missing puzzle piece. He should be all hard edges and jagged points, but he’s strangely smooth, and that empty compartment in his chest offers space for you to breathe without issue; even as he’s squeezing you a little. And perhaps you’re flustered at what you’re experiencing, or perhaps it should be wrong to feel this way about someone who isn’t even the same species as you, but you – reluctantly – end the embrace before it overstays its welcome, yet you cannot resist setting but a small peck to Sentinel’s cheek as you retreat from him. The warmth that spreads across your face rivals his, and he smiles at you; tender and vulnerable, and you curse yourself for looking away, and even more so as you step back.
“We should finish up here. It’s been a long day and… Well, it’s been a while since I’ve eaten,” you say, missing how Sentinel stares as you instead look up at the beams. “I’ll let you come inside for the night as a reward for a job well done,” you add, and now you feel him bristling with joy as he stands back up.
“Well, what are we waiting for then!” Sentinel says with so much energy that it startles you more than the fact that he almost sprints past you. He hurries up the ladder to complete the last task at hand, and it’s only when he’s halfway up that the shock wears off and you start to laugh. “Don’t laugh at me, Angel, I’m trying to be efficient here!”
“You’re like a child who’s been told he can have candy if he finishes cleaning his room,” you say, cackling a little more as you come to join him. He sends you a look and an unimpressed noise but watches you closely as you climb to the second level of the barn to join him, another ladder perched up there that wasn’t long enough for the first floor.
“Whatever you say, Angel.”
“You will not do any heavy lifting when it comes to this,” he said, cutting you off with a glance and a point of his digit. You only raise your hands in surrender as he starts hammering away, making quick work of what little was left.
“Alright, birdie. I’ll let you work on your bird barn in peace.”
The laughter slowly dies down as hammering, curses, and wobbling ladders instead fills the growing silence of the outside world. It had begun to snow again, it was easy to tell by how muffled everything was, and it was confirmed once the last tasks of the day were completed and you were free to walk outside once more, whilst Sentinel stayed behind to clean up the tools you’d both used. It’d been but an hour that had passed, Sentinel had been quite efficient indeed, but the light which had begun to dwindle before had now fully past, and though the white of the snow made the night not as dark, there was still no chance to look beyond the weak lights of your farm. The darkness outside was choking, and you shuddered.
The snowflakes were thick and had already settled heavily upon the ground. It would be heavy work tomorrow with shovelling it away, but Sentinel ought to learn how to do it, and it would only be temporary as you’d planned to buy equipment for that. There was simply too much ground to cover if only one, or two, people were to do the work alone.
Chuckling as you think about how annoyed Sentinel would be, you instead focused on the sudden building sound of something loud approaching. If it was that race car again, then you’d surely kick it this time, but instead of a thundering engine there was now something else. It crept upon the air instead of travelling across the ground, and you looked up to try and see something; anything. Visibility was horrendous, and when you’d just begun to conclude that it must be a passing passenger plane, you instead see something approaching; fast. It sweeps through the air without trouble at speeds you’d never seen before, and just as you’re able to fully take in the details, a fighter jet passes overhead so quickly you swear your eardrums are about to explode. Cursing as you groan and cover your ears, you glare in the direction of the jet as it already vanishes through the thicket of snowfall.
“Fucking fucker! What kind of madman flies that close to the ground!” you swear and return to the barn, ears ringing, and again you’re met with a familiar sight as Sentinel pulls you inside. Cursing a little more, you’re ready to scold him for yanking you like a puppet when you pause after taking in his expression. This wasn’t the same fear he’d expressed before; this was raw, familiar, terrible recognition. He slams the door closed again and squeezes you so hard all the air is forced out of your lungs. “Sentinel!” you try to shout but there’s no volume to your voice, and he ignores you as he rushes towards the other end of the barn. What the hell—
You’re not allowed to finish your thoughts as the world suddenly explodes in wood and nails and snow alike. You heave a breath, unable to scream as Sentinel realises his tight grip even as panic overtakes him, and you’re able to gasp just as projectiles cease their clattering against Sentinel’s frame.
The barn door, and the wall around it, is now nothing more than splinters upon the ground.
“Well, well, well, it does indeed take more than public humiliation, stripping of one’s T-cog, forced mass-displacement, and endless space madness to kill this little scraplet!” said a tall figure you’d just been able to notice, looming overhead with a cocky smirk even as he glared heatedly at Sentinel, his tall frame just outside the threshold of the barn. “And look, you’ve even gotten yourself a pretty, teeny tiny human slave.” He leers at you. “What does this one do for you, Sentinel? Polish your frame? Sing their praises? Frags you—”
“Shut up, Starscream!” Sentinel sneers with hatred even as his frame trembles, not only for himself, but also for you as you remain securely close to his chassis. “Do whatever you want with me but leave them alone!”
Starscream stares in disbelief for a brief moment before booming laughter erupts from deep within his chassis, and he snarls before seizing the both of you; Sentinel screaming in both fear and pain as sharp digits dig into his back, whilst you screech in shock and fright for what this giant might do should he squeeze just ever so little too hard. “You are in no position to command me,” he says, baring his denta. “No, I think this little fleshling means something to you, and for that, they will suffer a fate worse than—”
“Oh, shut up, you piece of worthless filth!” you shout, equal amounts furious as you’re afraid. Sentinel audibly gasps at your side, and he mutters your name in vain to prevent you from escalating the situation further.
“What did you call me?! You worthless little—”
“Are you deaf now too?” You spit at him, and he recoils by holding both you and Sentinel further away, a strange sound coming from him; probably disgust. “Fuck you!”
Again, Sentinel hisses your name in a whisper even as he marvels at your bravery, stupid bravery, but bravery, nonetheless. You shoot him a look, and he can see the fear in your eyes, and the scowl is wiped away as Starscream starts to squeeze, and it doesn’t hurt Sentinel too much, but he sees the way you jerk as your back explodes with pain, and the subsequent scream is enough to freeze his spark to a sudden death. Starscream is going to kill you unless he does something.
“They're near blind!” Sentinel shouts as Starscream’s glares. “You know, silly little organics and their fragile bodies? This one can be quite stupid at times, they can’t help it,” he says, and the pressure lessens and you gasp for air, forehead falling with a thud against Sentinel’s chassis as tremors wreck you from within. You’re in agony; in too much pain to even as much as look at him for the remarks he came up with. Starscream opens his mouth to speak, but instead, another voice comes through the muffled silence of the late snowy evening, and this one is terrible beyond words.
“Starscream, bring Sentinel to me; at once.” And even as the voice comes through Starscream’s audial, Sentinel can hear it loud and clear, and his frame turns cold; icy. He cannot feel the soft snow even as it lands like a gentle blanket upon his frame, nor can he feel your breath; slow and steady, your eyelashes tenderly brushing against him as you blink in vain attempts to rid yourself of the torturous pain. Everything has become numb.
“Y-yes, Lord Megatron,” says Starscream, and he transforms, bringing you and Sentinel with him, leaving the farm and its cosy homeliness behind.
Previous / Next
Music: Brad Derrick – A Land Burdened with History
Artwork: J.C. Dahl - Norsk fjelddal & Vincenzo Coronelli - Celestial Globe
theartofmadeline
yousharknotpass
pixelskylines
tangentwithtanner
jimmyeatworldofficial
areudirty
romaincrisis
ellievsbear
