The Life {and Death} of Abigail Parker, Chapter 25
Of course the remainder of Team Prime decided to return probably moments after I got locked in the small-town jail cell. Luckily for me, there weren’t more than a handful of women in the cell with me, and they didn’t try to shank me. Thank God for that. I was in no shape to defend myself.
I was officially ‘booked’ at around two in the morning. Another thing I was thankful for was my absurdly real-looking fake ID. It passed every test it needed to, and even was able to ping a realistic-looking profile in this country’s database. If I had my real ID on me, I’d be in real trouble.
I kept telling myself that. Maybe I was trying to convince myself that I wasn’t already in real trouble just by getting myself arrested for something so… Childish. Arrogant. I couldn’t decide.
When I saw who came to bring me home, I almost fell to my knees. It wasn’t Jazz or Prowl, the two that I’d be worried about but also thrilled to see. It wasn’t Bumblebee, I wasn’t sure he’d know how to act in this situation. It wasn’t Optimus. He probably would have been my last choice.
No, it was a mech that completely caught me off guard. It was Ratchet.
Ratchet, to whom I’d basically become not just an assistant, but also a friend. I saw him as a mentor, even if I didn’t see Cybertronian medicine going on my resume anytime soon. Ratchet, the mech who scoffed when I said just about anything, but never aimed a wrench at me, except for that one time.
No. It shouldn’t have surprised me that they basically brought my robot dad to come and get me. Brooding looks and all.
Ratchet’s holoform just shook his head when he saw me. Even his holoform’s eyes looked tired, though I couldn’t decide if it was a mental or physical tired. He gestured for me to follow him out, which I did.
He didn’t say anything to me on the short walk back to his alt mode. Nobody seemed to question the fact that an ambulance was being used for non-medical purposes, and instead was the transport for a freshly bailed-out criminal.
Fuck. I can’t believe I got myself arrested.
“In.”
It didn’t take long for me to realize we were, in fact, driving the hour back to base and not utilizing the groundbridge. Of course I was going to be stuck with my sulking robot dad for an hour after he’s been gone for two weeks and had to immediately leave after coming home to bail me out of jail.
I was really being a model human for the team.
Ten minutes into the drive, I could feel my eyes begin to sting. It was hard to tell if it was because I was so tired, starting to feel the hangover, or if I was simply starting to cry. I tried to hold it in like I held in getting sick in front of the other inmates. It didn’t work. I decided to look out the window to distract myself.
I had been looking forward to their return so much. How did I screw this up so badly?
“Is this common behavior for almost thirty year old humans?”
I gulped. “No, sir.”
“Is this who you are, Abigail?”
I didn’t answer him. His question echoed in my head. Was this who I was now?
I should have felt excited to be seeing the rest of the team. They were finally home. I wasn’t even there to greet them. No, I had been in a holding cell.
Was this who I was now?
“You didn’t answer me. Does your head hurt?”
“Just a hangover headache,” I told him quietly, not tearing my gaze from the window. “I’ll live.”
“Were you injured?”
“No, sir,” I repeated.
No, nobody hurt me. I had somehow hurt myself instead, and possibly hurt the very people that had already sacrificed so much just for my sake. This was going to be the longest hour of my life.
To my absolute dismay, I did not simply cease to exist in that hour drive back. I stayed right where I was, silent as I looked out the ambulance window. He didn’t ask me any more questions. It was probably for the best. I was out of answers.
Nothing was going as I had planned. I didn’t plan to have too many drinks with Sam at the bar. I didn’t plan on my arrogance getting me arrested. I didn’t plan that the first face I saw would hold a look of disappointment instead of joy.
I was spiraling again. Thank you, Ratchet.
Ratchet escorted me to my quarters in vehicle mode, and let me out right at my front door. We had passed a few Autobots in the hallways, but I didn’t dare make eye contact with any of them. It was bad enough to see the look on Ratchet’s face. I wasn’t sure I could handle seeing it on others as well.
I quietly thanked Ratchet, though what I was thanking him for I left up to his own interpretation, before locking the door behind me. I rested my back against the door and closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths.
“Honey, were you good to the others? Were you nice to them?” I mumbled quietly, moving my hand to cup the very nose that touched it. “I bet you were. . . Atta girl.” I figured they had found out about her already. Wheeljack and Bumblebee did not like keeping her in my quarters. ‘She needs to be able to run around!’ or something.
My chest tightened when I realized that not only did they return to me being in jail, but also to the fact that I had gotten a pet without their permission. Each of those things were a lot to handle by themselves, but together. I was not looking my most responsible.
When I finally decided to stop leaning against the front door, I walked to the living room. Instead of my television screen being off, it was on, and it had a message.
Abigail: Report to Prowl at 16:00
Fuck. I was really in for it.
It was hard to fall asleep after that. My body was exhausted, but my mind was awake. It was not a good combination. Additionally, I couldn’t find my usual hangover medication. I wasn’t out of it, it was just gone. Figures.
If only I could find a way to the treehouse without running into anybody. But that would have been too easy.
“What do you think I should do, m’lady?” I asked the pooch strewn about across my lap. “What’s my next move?”
I had about six hours until I needed to report to Prowl. I almost wished we’d just meet already and talk about whatever needed to be talked about. At the same time, I wished it was a week away. I couldn’t decide which one I wanted more. Not that it mattered. I had six hours.
Six hours. Six hours to do what?
Sleep was out of the equation. At the rate I was at, I knew I’d sleep well tonight, but no sooner than that unless I came across some melatonin. Unlikely. I could hole myself away in my quarters with my dog until the six hours were up. Pretty likely. Less likely, I could leave my quarters, do my own version of a walk of shame, and greet my friends I had missed.
While I was off getting a dog and getting arrested, they had been off making contributions to their war. I really was a piece of shit, wasn’t I?
I eyed the teal dog harness hanging from the hook against the wall next to the front door. I clicked my tongue before gently nudging my dog off of me.
“C’mon, girl, let’s go take this walk of shame together.”
I looked presentable enough, having showered and put my hair up in a bun that looked like it took effort, but it didn’t. The last thing I needed was to look like I was going through some sort of crisis. I obviously was, but that didn’t mean I needed to look it.
My year-old pup had no problem keeping up with me as I made my way towards the end of my hallway. Once we reached the part in my hallway where the ceiling became taller, I stopped. I took a few deep breaths. I gave my pup a pat on the head before we continued.
The first Cybertronian I saw was not one that I recognized. I could feel my heart begin to race, but before I could start to panic, I recognized the Autobot next to them. The Autobot didn’t seem to be panicking.
Even so, I decided not to look at them as I passed by, even though it was obvious I saw them. My mind thought this was the right reaction. Just ignore them, Abby, they’ll leave you alone.
As if.
“Abby! It’s so nice to see you again! Man, two weeks can really feel like a long time, can’t it?”
Sweet Bluestreak.
“Hey, Blue, it’s good to see you, too,” I said with a small, forced laugh. “It seems, uh, both me and Team Prime have some things we need to catch each other up with, huh?”
“Huh? Oh!” Bluestreak palmed his helm. “Of course! You haven’t been introduced to them yet- Abigail, so you know how there are Decepticons and Autobots? Well, there are also-”
The orange mech beside Bluestreak interrupted him. “Neutrals. Apologies, Bluestreak, but do you always talk this much?”
“He does,” I answered with a shrug, resting my hand on top of my pup’s head. “Neutrals, huh? What are you doing here?”
“My team crash landed in Europe, we’re not sure how long we were in stasis,” the orange mech told me. “We made a deal with Prime to stay here while we process some energon.”
“As I was saying,” Bluestreak said, slower this time, and looking positively bashful. “This is Nitrous. He’s one of the neutrals staying with us.”
“How many neutrals are on your team, Nitrous?”
“Seven. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Abigail.”
“It’s a pleasure to-” I stopped. “Blue called me Abby- how do you know my full name?”
It was Nitrous’ turn to look sheepish. “Word seems to travel fast on this base. Don’t you think?”
“You don’t even know the half of it,” I mumbled.
“And who’s this?” Bluestreak asked, pointing to the dog beside me.
I forced another laugh, but my smile was real. “I had a little lapse in willpower and decided to get a companion. I know, I know, I should have asked first, but I couldn’t help it.”
I doubted this was the only time I’d have this conversation today.
“What’s its name?” he asked.
“She doesn’t have a name yet, but I’m trying a few out. Right now, I’m between Honey, Milady, and Lassie.”
Once I figured out those two were no help in the naming of my dog, I decided to move on. My first encounters since their return hadn’t been nearly as bad as I had hoped. It felt like there was a weight lifted off of my shoulders. Maybe the rest of them would have similar, mild reactions to my latest antics.
Deep down, I wasn’t worried about all of their reactions. I didn’t mind if Ironhide and Chromia thought I was careless- in a way, I knew I was, at least reflecting in my recent actions. I was making decisions without thinking through the consequences. I was making careless mistakes in a game I had been playing for longer than I could remember.
No. There were only a few of their reactions that I really cared about, and really hoped weren’t too severe, but I knew they weren’t going to be how I wanted. Prowl wasn’t going to forgive me because I had a momentary lapse in judgment. Optimus Prime wasn’t going to excuse my breaking the law like I did so easily. Worst of all, Jazz was going to see through all of my supposed ‘progress’ to what really has transpired.
A mess. Basically.
“Quite the creature, Abigail,” Nitrous said as he knelt down to get a closer look. “Fascinating. And organic, as well?”
“I’d guess that besides the Cybertronians, all creatures on Earth are organic,” I told him.
He looked amazed.
“I should probably get going,” I said after a while, tugging at the leash. “More confrontations to be had, you know. Walk of shame.”
“Taking it helm-on,” Nitrous said with a nod. “Noble of you.”
I popped out a hip. “Thanks,” I said with a cheesy smile. “Noble would be a good thing for me to be right about now.”
“You’ll be just fine, Abby! It’s not like you’re going to be grounded or anything.”
“I wouldn’t put that past Prowl, I bet he could get Optimus Prime to agree to it as well. Can’t say I wouldn’t blame them.”
“This species uses a multitude of negatives, have you noticed that?” Nitrous said, glancing at Bluestreak. “I’m not sure she knows what she’s saying.”
“This one does, but I haven’t noticed it to be a species-wide trend,” Bluestreak countered.
Had I used too many negatives? Maybe I would have to give Ratchet a visit before seeing Prowl after all. This hangover was going to be the death of me.
I deserved it, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. There, Nitrous, did I use the correct amount of negatives?
~
Thank goodness Ratchet had Tylenol in his subspace. There was no way I was going to make it though the rest of the day without it.
The general vibe around the base was weird, and I was sure it wasn’t just my hangover/lack of sleep. From what I had gathered, both teams found the energon deposit, but the neutrals found it first. Finders Keepers, yada yada, but Team Prime had a way to process raw energon and the neutrals did not. They made a deal.
That probably wasn’t the whole story, but it was the gist I had gotten from various groupings of Autobots and neutrals.
The Tylenol had mostly kicked in by the the time I left the medbay to head towards Prowl’s office. Ratchet and I hadn’t discussed what had happened just a few hours prior, and instead went over everything I had done while they were gone. I had completed all of the tasks he’d given me, and mostly by myself. Apparently, he hadn’t expected me to have gotten them done.
“I didn’t actually believe you’d get all of this done.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Ratchet.”
It was a very heartwarming moment.
Much too soon, I found myself standing in front of the door to Prowl’s office. His door was slightly cracked open, his sign to everybot that he was available if needed. I gulped when I realized it would probably be closed for the next hour with me on the other side.
Why was I so nervous? It was Prowl! Why on Earth was I so fucking nervous?
When I looked at my watch, it read one minute until four. Almost 16:00. I was right on time. At least I had that going for me.
“Abigail, you may come in,” Prowl’s voice echoed through the open door. It was scarily even.
I almost wished I had my dog by my side, but a little voice in my head warned me that it would have been too much to have her there as well when I was being… Whatever Prowl decided was necessary punishment for my actions.
Man, I really was catastrophizing.
Prowl was using his holoform, that was the first thing that surprised me when I entered his office. I wasn’t even aware that he had a human desk and chairs. He was standing behind the desk, and gestured for me to take a seat in the chair opposite him.
My hands held each other behind my back as I took my seat, not daring to meet his gaze.
“Abigail.”
“Prowl.”
“Abigail, Team Prime was gone for fifteen solar cycles. Correct?” Prowl asked me.
“Correct,” I mumbled.
“Are you aware of what transpired in those fifteen solar cycles?”
“By now, I think I have the gist of it.”
“Good. Now, explain to me what happened on this side of the planet while we were gone.”
I finally looked up at him. “What do you-”
“In your words, Abigail, explain to me what happened,” Prowl said, his voice growing louder and more stern. “Now.”
My hands now gripped the sides of my seat, as if I was afraid I’d lose my balance. It was hard for me to tell if there was any emotion in his voice. I surely didn’t get it from looking into his eyes.
Prowl didn’t scare me. He intimidated me. And that was something I hated even more. He didn’t always intimidate me. The difference was that right now, he wanted to intimidate me. It was intentional.
He knew it. I knew it. This was his plan all along.
My voice was angry when I started my long-winded explanation. I emphasized how I did ‘everything right’ the first week, but one thing led to another and Sam convinced me that I needed to get a dog. I placed blame on Sam. My voice slowly transitioned from angry to passionate as I described how and why I picked the pup that I did, how when I felt her press her entire body weight against me I knew she was the one. I even started to smile when I told him how she already knew how to sit and stay.
“Abigail, this is not what I meant.”
I froze in my seat. He was right. I was stalling.
Prowl rose from his seat and paced behind his desk. “Abigail Parker, you got arrested last night. You spent the night in a holding cell. Do you understand what we had to do to get you out?”
“They told me that the charges got dropped,” I argued. “Before I left-”
“Abigail Parker, you were arrested for harassing a police officer!” Prowl boomed. I could almost feel my bones tremble. “While we were transporting energon through the groundbridge, you were behind bars! Do you understand how irresponsible you were? Let alone the fact that without our permission, you adopted a pet! Do you understand what we are trying to accomplish here? Do you understand that my kind are at war?”
“Fuck, yes! Yes, Prowl, I understand that your people are at war!” I tried, but was unsuccessful at keeping my voice at a reasonable volume. I wasn’t just mad. I was pissed. “Do you really think I haven’t noticed that little fact? Do you think I wake up here in isolation, day after day, without acknowledging the fact that your war is the reason I’m here in the first place?”
“It has been your choice to stay, but your actions show that it is not a decision you stand by. Am I correct in assuming that?”
“ ‘Are you correct in assuming-’, the fuck are you saying, Prowl?” My filter was officially gone. It was game over. Something else had taken control, and Calm Abigail was no longer in the driver’s seat. My walls were down. “Yes! Alright? Yes! I fucked up! I’ve made a series of poor decisions.”
“Go on.”
I scoffed. “We just went over them. It was stupid of me to get a dog, yeah, I’ll admit it. It was even stupider of me to get myself effing arrested. I’m not a perfect person. I make decisions that don’t always make sense. I fucked up.”
“Yes,” Prowl agreed. His tone was unreadable. “You did.”
“And that’s why you called me in here, right? To lay in on me about how badly I fucked up and how I don’t belong here and how I’m the entire reason you guys aren’t winning the war?”
“That is not what I said.”
“It’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?” I said through clenched teeth. “Don’t lie to me. I’m tired of lies. Nothing but truths from here on out.”
Prowl stopped his pacing. His holoform turned his head ever so slightly to look at me through the corner of his eye. “Do you believe that you are the reason we have not won this war, Abigail?”
What was this, therapy?
“I don’t think I’ve helped in the way I maybe once could have.”
“That does not answer my question.”
“I’m good at evading,” I said off-handedly. “It should be on my powerpoint slide, huh?”
Prowl seemed to have cooled off as I had. “You have caused a great deal of worry.”
“I know.”
“Do you understand why?”
I nodded slowly, my shoulders slowly relaxing.
“Do we need to be worried about you, Abigail?”
“I’m kind of a loose cannon right now,” I admitted. “But you shouldn’t expect me to get arrested again anytime soon.”
“You harassed a police officer to the point that he took you to jail to prove a point.”
“As it turns out, my point was that I’m stubborn enough to not give up, even when I figure out I’m wrong.”
“Admitting that you have a problem is the first step,” Prowl said. “You are improving, Abigail, even if you can’t see it yet.”
“Are you disappointed in me, Prowl? Not as a superior, but as my-uh..”
Prowl leaned against the desk, his face just a couple of feet from mine. It was odd that I noticed that was the closest I had been to him since I was freshly memory-wiped. “Abigail, you continue to surprise me, but you continue to fail to disappoint me.”
The voice in my head began to wonder if he expected me to continue to fail to disappoint him, or if he knew one day, I would. I would disappoint him one day. Maybe I was just delaying the inevitable.
I really needed to stop catastrophizing.
“Am I in trouble, Prowl?”
“A final decision has not been made,” he told me. “However. No matter your personal relationships with any mech or femme on this base, you will be held responsible for your actions.”
I left Prowl’s office angry, but not in the way I had expected. I wasn’t angry because I was being held responsible for my actions, that I understood completely. What I was angry about caught me totally off guard.
In the midst of my rage, I had seen something in Prowl’s eyes. Not even his holoform could hide his emotions from his eyes, at least not in that split second when I was bellowing how I had messed up and what it meant to me. What I saw in his eyes in that moment was the entire reason I continued to fight myself to stay with the Autobots.
What I saw in Prowl’s eyes was what I saw more commonly with Jazz, at least when I could see his eyes.
In my fit of rage, I saw Prowl’s walls completely drop. In a split second, I saw him not as Prowl, but as a being that truly saw me and my experience. For a fraction of a moment, Prowl saw me not as a mess, but as someone who was trying, and failing, and trying anyway.
I hated that in my fit of rage, how Prowl looked at me made me understand exactly why I fell in love with him in the first place.
The Life {and Death} of Abigail Parker, Chapter 24
Prowl liked it when things made sense. He had always been a black and white type of thinker- grey area, or the areas between one hundred percent and zero percent? Not his favorite.
He had been so observant of his mate that when Jazz approached him for the first time about the human, it was no surprise. When he, himself, decided to court her as well, it was the logical thing to do. His mate already held such feelings for her, and those leaked through to him through their bond. Plus, his general relationship with her to begin with was unlike any other, even differing from his relationship with Jazz. When he earned Abigail’s respect, it was because of who he really was, not because of his title. It held so much more weight to it.
When he earned her trust, he had promised her that he wouldn’t break it. But he did.
She didn’t know, but they hadn’t done nothing about her being taken. There had been a weeks long investigation, briefings and debriefings on the goings on about the case, teams sent out to patrol the areas surrounding her neighborhood. It had been hard for Prowl to contain himself when all that work came up with… Nothing. They didn’t know when she was taken, how she was taken, what exactly was done to her. Any and all available security footage had been wiped clean.
Even Jazz hadn’t been sure how to approach Prowl in his state of rage. Optimus had to have a conversation with him before he was finally able to unfurl his fists.
They didn’t tell Abigail. She was going through enough turmoil as it was.
When the Decepticons finally ambushed them that day, both at the park and at the base, Prowl was confused. That was it? That was why they took her? The Decepticons took Abigail, wiped parts of her memories, brainwashed her, changed her for life, just so that they could distract the Autobots and chase them away from their base? There hadn’t even been casualties. The Cons had the advantage.
Why hadn’t there been any casualties?
It just didn’t make sense. There had to be more to it than that. He felt like they only had the cliffnotes of what happened. He didn’t like that feeling.
-
The strong signal didn’t just come from the large energon deposit. There was something else in there, something the sensors at the base didn’t pick up correctly.
The now Canadian-based Autobots weren’t the only of their kind to find the energon deposit. The opposing party did not consist of Decepticons, as had been their fear from the beginning. However, they were also not Autobots. Cybertronians, yes, but the group bore no faction. They found the deposit first.
Optimus Prime was nothing if not a fair mech. That group found the deposit first, so they had claimed it as such. He didn’t argue with their leader, Torin, about who got what. Instead, he offered them a bargain.
“I assume you have a refinery system to process the raw energon,” Optimus began, watching as the much smaller team began to mine the crystal.
Torin looked at him, but didn’t say anything. His optics brightened.
“This ore can be next to useless if not refined properly,” Prowl added, standing beside his leader. He watched Optimus’s face closely. “Dangerous, even.”
“We don’t take factioned deals lightly,” Torin said slowly. “Our goal is to wait out the war, not add ourselves to the statistics of those lost for the price of… What? A dying, if not already dead, planet?”
“You do not have to agree with our ways to determine we can be of use to one another,” Optimus Prime told him, standing up a bit straighter. “We have a small stock of various refined energon, enough to fulfill the needs of your team. You require a refinery system for the ore.”
“What exactly are you suggesting, Prime?” Torin asked him.
Torin did not want to come off as desperate as he really was. He was sure the Prime could already tell, just by the looks of his team. Their platings were dull in color, their optics not nearly as bright as they surely once had been. They were tired. They were in pain.
His team had no base, no refuge. This energon deposit was the brightest light they had seen since landing on Earth, a planet not suited for their kind on its best day. Without proper supplies, the moisture in the air can much too easily cause their inner workings to rust.
Torin glanced at the mech by his side. Obsidian, his second in command. Obsidian was a few heads taller than his superior. Torin’s optics trailed down to look at his abdomen. A small patch of rust just above his hips was poorly disguised with a wipe of dark motor oil.
Optimus laid out his terms for Torin after a brief conversation with his own line of command. Jazz and Prowl were both wary, but knew it was right to support their leader. If he believed this was the right thing to do, then it was, and they’d put their support behind him.
“This deposit would require a month’s time to refine properly. You found it first, therefor it is yours. However, we can offer you and your team this. Allow us to aid you in the refinement, for a small portion of the spoils. We will allow you and your team to travel back with us to our base. You will all be given a place to stay, and together if you all wish, and will receive maintenance from one of our medics until the refinement is complete.”
“A small portion?” Torin repeated.
Optimus shook his head. “Yes, of this deposit, but while you take a small respite at our base, you will be allowed the allotment of any one member of our team. Each.”
In return for a small portion of the deposit, Optimus was willing to rehabilitate the small team of neutrals. Willing to supply them with the energon needed for Cybertronians to function properly, give them safety from the harshness of the organic planet.
“And once the refinement is done?” Torin asked, crossing his servos over his chest. “Will we be able to leave, peacefully?”
“If that is your wish,” Optimus Prime said with a curt nod. “We will allow you to leave.”
"We want eighty percent," Torin announced.
"Fifty," Prowl countered after receiving permission from Optimus.
"Seventy-five."
"Fifty-five."
"You take a third, and my team takes the rest."
The Autobots were quiet for a moment. Optimus considered the deal. One third wasn't a lot, but it was a large deposit. One third wouldn't be a small amount.
"Deal."
-
Seven solar cycles later, the combined teams were still hard at work mining the raw energon. Everybot worked, including Optimus Prime and Torin.
Optimus Prime faintly knew of Torin prior to this. They had crossed paths a few times during their time at the Academy. The last he knew, Torin had been an Autobot. He had been a proud Autobot, one of the few that kept their insignias polished through every exercise. Optimus recalled hearing their superiors berate Torin, degradation being the softest weak spot for the mech. It was brutal. There were many things that Torin lacked, but empathy wasn’t one of them.
Once the war began to break out, Optimus Prime had lost track of his peer. They simply didn’t cross paths again. He wasn’t sure if he even graduated.
Arcee and Chromia took it upon themselves to attempt to befriend the femmes from Torin’s team. Surprisingly, there were three of them. Three out of the seven mecha were femmes. From what Chromia could tell, none of them were very comfortable with strangers. Arcee figured that they weren’t fighters.
The youngest was a pink femme named Heidi. She had a short, stocky body with a large white cross over her right shoulder. It went without saying that this was their medic. She was even younger than Bumblebee. She didn’t talk much.
Missy was blue with an almost frail-looking thin frame. She had introduced herself and the other girls to Chromia and Arcee when they first approached. Her voice was soft. Chromia decided that she was the most suspicious. Suspicious of what, she hadn’t decided yet.
The eldest, but not by much, was Royal Purple. She looked as such, and was easily the bulkiest femme on their team. Chromia instantly liked her. A femme that looked like she could hold her own. Arcee thought that maybe this one was a fighter.
Obsidian introduced himself as “Obby” to a few mechs on Team Prime. He was the most willing to break the ice. He physically dragged the remaining two mechs on the team, Nitrous and Bluestrider, towards the small group he was forming with members of Team Prime.
Nitrous, an orange mech, introduced himself as Missy’s brother. Bluestrider rolled his optics when he claimed Royal Purple as his sister.
Prowl was reeling about how he had more to add to his slideshow now.
Mirage carefully observed the newbies’ interactions with his fellow Autobots. He didn’t introduce himself to the neutrals. In fact, he wasn’t sure any of them had noticed him and where he stood. He quietly adjusted the sensitivity of his audio receptors.
Torin didn’t speak much. He never directed his words towards Team Prime, only either directly addressing Optimus or his own team. Noted.
Obsidian, or “Obby” clearly wanted everybot to get along. He was putting forth the most effort in socializing between the teams. He seemed genuine, but almost to the extreme, Mirage thought. Maybe he was overthinking this.
It was safe to assume that the pink, white-cross-bearing femme was the team’s medic. It was no wonder their team was in such rough shape. She was so young to be the head medic. Timid, as well, a trait that Ratchet would easily disapprove of. Ratchet didn’t believe that medics could afford to be timid.
Team Prime easily outnumbered, and even more easily outmatched, the neutrals. Thirteen to seven. Mirage imagined that Optimus would try to recruit them. Why did Optimus trust their leader so easily? Mirage did a quick data search of Torin’s designation. Huh, he used to be an Autobot. He served at the Academy with Prime.
Why would an Academy bot become a neutral?
::Prowl::
::Mirage::
::What is going on here?::
::We are harvesting energon::
::What is Optimus thinking?::
::Do you doubt his assessment? His leadership?::
Ouch.
::I didn’t say that::
::You didn’t, but it’s written all over your faceplate. You need to put an end to that. Optimus Prime knows what he’s doing::
::He better::
Mirage almost regretted his words to Prowl, but he didn’t say anything after that. Instead, he joined the small swarm of bots that were also on break.
-
Torin was lucky it was only Optimus Prime and his team that they encountered. He didn’t want to imagine what would have happened if a team of Decepticons found them. They were lucky to be alive as it was. It was by pure luck that they had crash landed, been put in emergency statis on impact, and had come online just miles from a large raw energon deposit.
His unit always seemed to survive on pure luck. He hated that.
Torin didn’t tell Optimus Prime why he dissolved from the Autobots. Optimus didn’t ask him. They hadn’t been friends at the Academy, but there was always this air of respect between them. It was a mutual feeling.
Primus, they were lucky it was Optimus Prime that led the Autobots.
The expression Optimus wore when he looked at Torin was dripping with sympathy. Torin hated that, too, but he refused to let his confused emotions get in the way of what really mattered here. He had made a great deal with Optimus Prime and his team. Torin’s strange crew would be greatly aided by this temporary truce. They needed this.
The fact that they needed this, and how his crew looked in terms of health, were a direct representation of Torin’s power and leadership. Underqualified, a failure.
He shook his helm, growling to himself quietly. No, he told himself, this wasn’t a failure. It was just a bump in the road. He was fully capable of keeping the remainder of his team safe from falling into the servos of this war. He owed them that.
Torin refused to acknowledge that leaving the Autobots in the first place was the beginning of a long line of mistakes he would make in his career. That didn’t stop him from trying to make the best decision, the right decision, now.
Torin wasn’t a dumb mech. He didn’t graduate with honors, but he wasn’t dumb. It was clear to him that Optimus Prime had only made that deal with him in order to nudge them in the ‘right direction’, to push them to join the Autobot cause.
Would that be their best case scenario now?
-
It was Jazz’s decision to not tell the remaining Autobots (and Abigail) at base what was going on. This time, he had a better reason than just “for your own good” this time. Even though they had secured the communication channel for the message that they’d be at least a week longer, it was too risky to give any more details. There was always a small chance they were being listened to.
He made fast friends with Obsidian. Now there was a mech that knew how to hold a conversation. They even carried along while they were working, and time flew by that way. He would have invited Prowl to join them, but he knew Prowl was busy addressing the concerns the other Autobots had about this whole situation.
They were vulnerable, Jazz knew that, but not nearly as much as this ragtag team of neutrals. Jazz quickly learned that they had crash landed on this planet some time ago, their ship stuck where it landed, rendered practically useless other than a weak shelter. It had been Heidi, their medic, that had traced the energon signal to this location.
Jazz hadn’t spoken to Heidi, but he had observed her making small talk with Arcee. She was almost smiling.
So young, Jazz thought to himself. They all were, except for Torin, who was probably closest to Optimus’s maturity. Only Torin and Obsidian seemed to be older than Bumblebee or Bluestreak by any stretch of the imagination. The others were too close to call.
It was no wonder why Optimus decided to help them. They were struggling in a way that made the Autobots look like upper-class bots.
“Are ya all neutrals, then?” Jazz asked Obsidian as they worked.
Obsidian grunted, hammering gently against the earth. “Now, yeah. We didn’t used to be. Torin and I left the Autobots at around the same time.”
“Why’d ya leave?” Jazz pressed.
Obsidian shook his helm. “It’s complicated. Maybe a tale for another time. Anyway, the youngins came online as neutrals, so they’ve never been Autobots. Heidi was trained by an Autobot, though, and almost became one.”
Jazz wondered what changed her mind.
“See, not every Autobot is a good mech,” Obsidian said flatly. “It was safer… At the time, it was safer to dissolve.”
Jazz was eventually able to needle more information out of the mech, mostly to quench his curiosity of the strangers that will likely make the Autobot base their home for the foreseeable future. Some of the details were hard to figure out, but he got the jist of this crew.
Torin went to the Academy with Optimus, graduated, but didn’t last long as an Autobot after. Obsidian had worked alongside Torin right out of the Academy. Heidi worked under an Autobot known to both Torin and Obsidian, Jazz couldn’t remember his name, but he was now deceased. Missy had been a patient of Heidi and the Autobot medic, always accompanied by her brother, Nitrous. That left the other pair of siblings, Royal Purple and Bluestrider.
Jazz wasn’t sure how they fit into the puzzle, but he was plenty satisfied with the intel he had gathered anyway.
-
“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Of course I am! I thought everything out,” I said confidently. “Do we need to go over this again?”
Wheeljack rubbed the back of his neck, making a horrid sound of metal rubbing against metal. “I might need to document this, huh.”
I grinned, grabbing Sam’s arm. “It’s just what we need! The others will be back any day now, and I haven’t got anything to surprise them with.”
My dog still didn’t have a name, I called her ‘Baby’ and ‘Honey’ most of the time. She probably thought one of those was her name by now. She had adjusted surprisingly well to her new home, and even got along with her tall metal base-mates. It was fun to watch her trail behind whatever Autobot she decided to follow, with her tail wagging from side to side, her tongue hanging out of one side of her muzzle.
She was even learning commands, and not only knew what they meant, but listened to them. She didn’t just listen to my commands, she listened to whoever was speaking to her. I hit the dog jackpot.
It was for that reason that I felt okay leaving her at the base while I dragged Sam and Bumblebee along with me to go shopping before the others got back. I just needed to convince Wheeljack it was a good idea.
It took thirty minutes of begging and negotiations, but I managed. Wheeljack even forgot to give us a curfew. Another jackpot.
I got ready as quickly as I could, and soon enough, the three of us were on the road. It was only an hour to the nearest shopping center, and I reminded Wheeljack that he should probably conserve the energon to get the team back.
“So what’s the actual plan?” Bumblebee’s holoform asked me.
I could feel my grin forming from ear to ear.
It was odd, but the outing seemed to go by in a blur. We decided to get the shopping out of the way first, and Bumblebee offered to hold the items in his subspace until we got back. I carefully chose what I wanted to purchase, most of it having to do with the surprise I had planned for the others when they got back, but some of it was for me as well. It felt like I hadn’t gone shopping in ages. Even with the rushing in my ears, it was nice to wander the aisles as a person, and not just exist as someone part of what was basically a Witness Protection Program.
Items paid for, Sam and I decided to grab dinner next. Even though the Autobots were saints for keeping such a well-stocked pantry for me, it was absolutely different than actually going out to eat, not having to worry about washing dishes after the meal, having someone else (who was a professional, not saying that Hound isn’t a chef but it’s still different) cook your meal that’s done it a million times. I imagined the Autobots knew what it was like, especially since they often spoke about their equivalent of ‘speak-easies’, where some of them frequented before the war really got out of control.
The meal was delicious. Bumblebee didn’t join us, but instead patrolled the streets around the restaurant.
Sam had commented that there was a bar not too far from the restaurant. It had been so long since I had forgotten to pay my tab at a bar. That no doubt influenced my decision to alert Bumblebee where we were headed, and that he could join us- nobody would notice that he wasn’t actually drinking the beverage in his hand.
And I had been right. Nobody questioned Bumblebee and his consistently half-full plastic cup of ice and water. That had started the first argument of the night.
“No, it’s half full,” I argued, gesturing to Bumblebee’s cup using my own. “Because it’s only filled up halfway.”
“It’s half empty,” Sam countered. “Obviously, it only has half of the contents it should have to be full, so it’s empty. Half empty.”
Bumblebee laughed. “You’re both wrong, for different reasons.”
Bumblebee had explained his point of view, but I couldn’t remember it. I actually didn’t remember much after that. If earlier in the outing I thought things went by in a blurr, this was warpspeed, but time had stopped at the same time. It was so strange.
But it was such a relief at the same time.
-
::Wheeljack!::
::Bumblebee? What’s the matter?::
::Wheeljack, I think I messed up- oh, boy, this is bad-::
::Bumblebee, vent! What’s going on?::
::It’s Abby. She got herself arrested! What do I do?::
The Life {and Death} of Abigail Parker, Chapter 23
A week passed. It felt like a lifetime, even though I knew it was only seven days. All three Autobots that remained were still at the base- no call for backup had been made. It would only be a matter of time before their return.
Oh, I was really in for it when they returned. But let me explain how I got into this predicament before you cast your judgements.
It all started with Sam. I blamed him, really.
“Thanks for helping me out,” I called out to him. “Though now, I’m not sure what I’m going to do with all this extra free time.”
Ratchet had so many things for me to do, and it was different every day. I couldn’t ‘unlock’ the next day’s to-do list early, it was all timed. Every morning, I woke up with a message on my communicator with exactly what to do, how to do it, and why I was doing it.
Damn, it was thorough. Fraggar.
“I didn’t think he’d just have you be doing busy work.” Sam was off by a tool chest, standing in one of the open drawers. His task was shining the wrenches. There were just so many of them. “Thought it would be more substantial.”
“In my head, it’s substantial. Makes me feel better about doing it if I think I’m helping.”
We took a short break for lunch. Sam made sandwiches while I went to check on the others. Wheeljack was busy tinkering in his lab. Bumblebee was scouting outside by the perimeter of the hologram. Maybe Cliffjumper wanted some company.
I knocked on the wall outside of his quarters. His door was open, but I didn’t step inside. “Hey, Cliff? You busy?”
“No, why?”
“You want to hang out with Sam and I? We’re taking a break.”
It was hard not to sneak a peek at the inside of his room. It was large, as all of their rooms were, and barely decorated. There were a few large posters nailed against the wall. I didn’t recognize the figures in them, but they looked to be Cybertronian in nature.
“Sure,” Cliffjumper called out.
“We’ll be in the rec room,” I informed him before leaving.
It was still weird to be one of the few beings walking the hallways now. Even when they were busy, there were always bodies in the hallways, and I never felt like I was alone. Where that used to make me feel uneasy, it now made me feel like there was something missing.
When I walked passed the hallway to my quarters, I absently touched my fingers to my lips. The lights were still flickering, but it didn’t disturb me like it did before. The hum of the lights put me at ease.
Somehow, both Sam and Cliffjumper had beaten me to the rec room for lunch.
“They’re coming back, Abigail.”
I stared into my turkey and cheese sandwich. Was Sam a mind reader?
He took a big bite of his sandwich. “Ya know, we never really got to know each other too well before.”
“Might have something to do with you speaking with your mouth full.”
“Boy, you two are a delight,” Cliffjumper mused. “I’m sure the others will hurry back just for the both of you.”
I stuck my tongue out at the fully-formed minibot. “If you were in my shoes, dude, I’m not sure you’d be doing much better.”
That conversation died down pretty quickly. I was a little too good at ruining the mood. It made me realize how much I held that over them, and not just Sam and Cliff, but all of the Autobots. It wasn’t my fault that I lost my memory, but it wasn’t their fault either.
It wasn’t their fault that they remembered and I didn’t. I needed to give them grace.
“What are your plans after graduation, Sam?” I asked.
Sam cleared his throat before speaking. “Right. I’m starting an internship at the beginning of the semester. Beyond that, I’m not sure yet. Having plans probably won’t make a difference, anyhow.”
“Such is life,” I mumbled quietly before sitting up a little straighter. “But you’re still young, and your first career path probably won’t be the one you travel forever.”
“You say that like you’re more than seven years older than me.”
“Young whippersnapper,” I laughed. “If my false memories were right, I graduated college and went through a few different career paths before finding a comfortable one.”
“What did you do?” Cliffjumper asked me, before he added, “in terms that I’ll understand.”
I hummed. “I was part of a marketing team for a large holding company. I researched and presented ideas to the different subsidiaries on how to market their products to their desired audience. A lot of it was busy work, though, stuff to do just to pass the time.”
When Sam asked, I went into further detail about how I ended up at that company. I told him how I had hit barriers, climbed over them, and when I was no longer getting paid what I was worth, left for the next best thing. A job was a job- a means to an end.
It sounded so simple compared to life now, even though now I dealt with a lot less paperwork.
Cliffjumper was lost for much of the conversation. Even when I tried to explain how my job worked to him, he just shook his head.
“Human social media is fascinating to me, but it becomes clear how short the human attention span really is.”
“How so?”
He shook his head. “We had something loosely equivalent to the internet, but we didn’t share five second clips of… What did you call them?”
“Vines.”
“Ah, yes, that. How can vines be that interesting?”
There was a lot to explain to Cliffjumper about human culture.
Sam and I finished our duties in the medbay by the early afternoon. That was when he got a dangerous idea, and I didn’t say no.
“Did you ever think of getting a pet?” he asked me as we walked back to the rec room.
“Like, getting a pet ever?” I clarified. When he nodded, I shrugged. “Sure. Pets are nice. I always had dogs as a kid.”
“Do you think they’d let you get one now?”
And that brings us to right now, in an animal shelter parking lot, courtesy of Wheeljack’s groundbridge. It was such a bad idea, I couldn’t resist.
“I’m sorry you can’t claim plausible deniability, ‘Bee.”
“You probably won’t get in trouble for this,” his holoform assured me. “... Probably.”
I was getting a dog. Sam talked me into it.
“I’d say to get a cat, but I’m not sure it’d be a good idea,” he had told me.
I agreed. Cats were too prone to hiding, and the last thing I wanted was for a cat to be hiding somewhere it shouldn’t, especially with all the moving parts at the Autobot base. A bigger dog just made sense.
Cliffjumper had suggested getting a tiger, or a lion. Sam and I had a tough time explaining to him why that wasn’t a good idea. He still wasn’t fully convinced.
Wheeljack had bridged us to an animal shelter in the United States. Until I saw the full address on posters adorning the brick wall outside, I wasn’t even sure what state we were in. Nebraska, apparently. It wasn’t too different from the weather this time of year I was used to growing up. The air was thick, full of moisture, but I smiled anyway. It smelled like home.
“Hi, we’re Abigail and Samuel, we spoke on the phone?” I said to the receptionist once we got inside.
The receptionist desk sat behind a small waiting area adorned with
She nodded, typing on her computer. “Yes, you spoke with me. You said you’re interested in adopting a dog?”
Two hours later, the three of us turned into the four of us. I sat in the back with our newest addition, while Bumblebee’s holoform sat in the driver’s seat and Sam sat in the seat next to him. It was hard to not just look at the animal sitting halfway on the seat and halfway on my lap. She barely fit.
I hoped to God and Primus and everything else out there that she wouldn’t be afraid of them.
Like most shelter dogs, she wasn’t a purebred animal, but that didn’t matter to me. The two things I took into consideration when picking a dog were size and temperament. I refused to have a dog with any sort of aggression, and I just knew I couldn’t have a small lap dog. They wouldn’t stand a chance.
When Sam had mentioned his family’s chihuahuas, I snorted, imagining them running around the base and just barely missing being stepped on. I couldn’t have that for my animal.
“What are you going to pick for her name?” Bumblebee asked me. We weren’t going home right away, and instead to a chain pet store for supplies.
Sam craned his neck to look at me for my answer.
I just shrugged, stroking the space between her eyes as she laid calmly. “We’ll see. I’m not quite sure her shelter name suits her. She doesn’t look like a Donna.”
No offense to any Donnas out there, but it just didn’t fit. The one thing the shelter was sure of was that she was part Great Dane, which explained her massive size. She was easily taller than me when she jumped on her hind legs- she could place her chin on the top of my head easily. I learned that almost as soon as I met her.
After meeting four other dogs, I just had a feeling she was the right fit. Her big round eyes were full of wonder, excitement. The shelter described her color as ‘merle’, though to me that translated to grey and slightly spotty. She almost looked like a grey dalmatian, but there were some white spots as well.
“What do you think, sweetheart? What do you think your name should be?” I mumbled to her, scratching behind her ears. One of her hind legs began to thump. “Maybe we’ll wait and see what strikes us, huh? What do you think of that?”
As it turned out, Bumblebee had never been inside a pet store before. Both him and Sam were busy looking at the ferrets and other live animals while I led the one year old Dane-ish pup around to gather what we needed. I had to drag the two of them out when I was finished- they had moved on to fish, and Bee decided that he simply needed an aquarium.
“You don’t need pet fish, Bumblebee, they’re a lot of work.”
“They’re so pretty- and so many colors! Are you sure? They don’t look like they’d be too much trouble-”
“If you do want to get some fish, I’ll help you,” I told him, placing my items on the conveyor at the register. The large pup sat next to me, her head looking back and forth between me and Bee. “But you’ll need a bigger tank than you think, you’ll need to have a good filtration system, the whole bit. No goldfish in a gallon bowl. They don’t thrive that way.”
“You looking for a job?” the cashier asked me as they scanned the items. “You seem like you know your way around that sort of thing.”
Not really, I said internally. Externally I just smiled. “Thanks, but no, I think I have my hands full as it is with these three.” I pointed my thumb at my partners in crime, including the new addition.
She barked and wagged her tail. Her tongue was already hanging out the side of her mouth, even more so when she cocked her head like she was. It was a Kodak moment if I ever saw one.
The worst thing about having a big dog was probably how much food they ate, and how quickly they could go through a bag of food. As I looked at the two fifty pound bags of food, I shook my head, knowing they’d be gone quicker than I thought. I’d have to find a way to get a regular supply.
Cliffjumper and Wheeljack were waiting when we returned through the groundbridge. My eyes grew wide when I realized the dog could see them very clearly through the tinted windows of the Camaro. She stared at them, unmoving even when I got out and ushered her to do the same.
I patted my thighs. “Come on, girl! Come on!”
She slowly crawled out of the back seat. I squinted at Bumblebee’s holoform and shook my head, hoping he’d get the message to not transform right away. Scaring her so soon was not on my list of things to do.
Cliffjumper was the first to move. He took a few small steps forward before he knelt down on both knees, holding out a servo for her to sniff. He was still probably twenty feet away from her.
To my surprise, she slowly walked forward to give his servo a sniff. She paused mid sniff and shook her head before placing a long, wet lick along his digits. She barked, her tail moving swiftly from side to side.
I beamed. “Atta girl!”
“Do canines require upgrades?”
“From you, Wheeljack? Probably not,” I snickered. “I do want you to make a tracker for her. Just in case she gets out or something.”
The mech nodded seriously. “Of course.”
Just like that, the Autobot base felt more like home. I’d argue that it had been my favorite day that week, until Wheeljack got word that the others would be gone for at least another week. At least now I had something more to do.
The Life {and Death} of Abigail Parker, Chapter 22
By the time I woke up the next morning, the base was basically empty of bodies. Wheeljack was probably in his lab cooking up something dangerous, Cliffjumper was scheduled for patrol outside. According to a message on my TV, Bumblebee and Sam were on their way, so I wouldn’t be as alone as I thought.
Luckily for them, they were at Sam’s parent’s when the Decepticons had attacked. They managed to miss all of the action.
It was easy to complete the tasks Ratchet set out for me when I had no distractions. Wheeljack showed me how to play music from the medbay console, so I was blasting some of my favorite pop songs as I worked. Ratchet would simply offline if he knew the music I was playing. He wasn’t a pop guy.
I decided to work through a lunch break to give myself more free time once all my work was done. I was done by mid-afternoon. Cliffjumper was back from his patrol by then.
“Find anything interesting?”
“Only if you’re a game hunter, which I doubt you are,” he told me, shaking his head. “Lot of moose. Meece? Many mooses. However you say it.”
I laughed. “I eat meat, but the kind you buy at the grocery store, not the kind you have to kill yourself. I understand the sentiment of it, but I don’t understand hunting for sport.”
“It does seem to be a wasteful practice, trophy hunting,” Cliffjumper mused. “Moose are bigger than I thought.”
“They’re huge,” I agreed. “It’s a wonder why we didn’t domesticate them instead of horses. Horses are probably a lot easier to tame than moose, though.”
Small talk like this came fairly easily with Cliffjumper. It was a pleasant surprise- I couldn’t expect everyone at base to generally enjoy my company, that would just feel weird, but they for the most part did enjoy my company in one way or another. Thanks, Past Me, for making good impressions.
“Are there any Cybertronian animals or creatures that resemble Earth creatures?”
That really got him going. As I had suspected, there were different species and types of creautres on Cybertron that were similar to the organic ones on Earth, but there were fewer of them than here on Earth.
I could feel my body cringe when Cliffjumper explained how he used to be a sort of trophy hunter before the Great War. Of course he was, after I basically talked shit about it here on Earth.
“It’s a lot easier done with an electromagnetic-pulse generator than with a gun, and a lot less messy. And less death. Phasers are set to stun, y’know. Still had to aim just right, or it wouldn’t have any effect and they’d get away.”
“You guys had all that shit figured out, huh? No need for killing just because-” I stopped myself when I could hear what I was saying. “I mean-” I stammered.
“I know what you mean, I’m not as sensitive about it as I used to be. Those days will come again. I still have hope.”
Cliffjumper wasn’t so bad. I was at least grateful the twins weren’t the two that stayed- that would have been a living nightmare. Sunstreaker still hadn’t spoken to me since his outburst. Sideswipe had made some small talk, but there was less of it since the incident.
Hopefully they were getting whatever it was out of their systems.
I was pondering the meaning of life that evening in the Dungeon when I got word from Wheeljack. Sam and Bee had arrived. Population three had turned into population five. I decided that the meaning of life could wait for at least one more night.
“Sammy!” I exclaimed. “Finally, another human-human!”
“Human-human?” Sam laughed. He had almost fallen to the floor when I jumped him. “You mean- Oh, holoforms, right.”
“Bumblebee,” Cliffjumper greeted the fellow minibot. “How was it on the way here?”
“Rough, but manageable.”
“When did you get your voice box fixed?” The last I knew, Ratchet was too busy with other things than to finally fix Bumblebee’s damaged voice box. He could speak in his holoform, but not so much through his real form.
Until now, I guess.
“Ratchet fixed me up before Sam and I left, like right before,” Bumblebee told me. His real voice was ever so slightly lower than his holoform’s. “I must’ve forgotten to tell you. My bad.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m just happy for you!”
In reality, I hadn’t had much time with Sam and Bumblebee, not much time that I remembered. Sam was still in college, so he was away from the Autobot base most of the year. Bumblebee was his guardian, and followed where he went unless he was needed by the team. That was why they were here now- Bumblebee would be backup, along with Cliffjumper and Wheeljack, as a last resort if things went south.
That was how I’d know they were in trouble. As long as the three of them were on base still, they were in the clear. I could breathe.
“What’s on the activities list, cruise director?” Sam asked me.
I was never so excited to cook for another person. I even made dessert and appetizers. For the most part, I found myself making big meals and just having a lot of leftovers instead of cooking for myself every day. Cooking for one person was almost worse than cooking for multiple. You can only divide a recipe so many times.
“So how’s it going with you and Jazz?”
“That’s one way to have a dinner conversation,” I stated, squinting at him from across the table. “No ‘Wow, Abby, this looks delicious’?”
Sam cleared his throat. “My bad. Wow, Abby, this looks delicious! How is it going though, seriously?”
I stabbed my fork into my mashed potatoes. “Thanks, Sam. We’re doing good, I think. It’s kind of weird to know so little about him, and to have him know so much about me. As much as we try to ignore Past Me, it always seems to come up.” I sighed. “At this point, living so far away from civilization is doing more damage than the memory loss. There’s not a whole lot for me to do here besides sit around.”
“No parties?”
“Maybe I’ll plan a welcome back party,” I hummed. “Have to do it all by myself, though, since Blue’s gone. He helped me with the last one.”
“Oh, man, I remember this one party you guys threw-”
I listened intently to Sam’s story. It was about a party I had thrown in the first year of knowing the Autobots. It might have been the first one, but Sam didn’t remember. It had been such a long time since the bots had partied like that, many of them apparently forgot that their high grade tolerance would be low. They rarely used it.
So most of them got really overcharged. That was what Sam called it. It sounded like a term I had looked up in Ratchet’s database, basically meaning their version of drunk.
“We might not have all the supplies to throw something like that,” I said thoughtfully. “I’m kind of Ratchet’s assistant now, and First Aid’s as well. Even while they’re gone, Ratchet has me doing chores every day around the medbay.”
“Do you like it?” Sam asked.
I shrugged. “Gives me something to do, and I at least feel like I’m helping. Throwing parties can only be so beneficial in a war.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Optimus will carry on and on about how this war isn’t our burden to bear. You believed it for the longest time.”
He said that in the past tense. Did I not believe it now?
They had all said something to that effect. Jazz and Prowl were insistent that I had no blame in recent events. Were they trying to convince me, too?
“What do you believe, Sam?” I asked him.
Sam cleared his throat. “Well, it changes a lot, but I basically believe that while this is not our war, we can help if we want to. Knowing that if we help, it makes us targets for the Decepticons and whatever other enemies are out there.”
“You think they have other enemies out there besides the Decepticons?”
“God, I hope not, but it’s possible,” he replied.
The thought of more alien civilizations sent a chill through my spine. I wasn’t so ignorant as to think we were the only ones out there, obviously not. But one known alien race is one thing. There were probably many planets out there sustaining life of some kind. The Cybertronians were so technologically advanced, they figured out space travel and portal technology. There were likely more civilizations out there that just didn’t have the technology or means to travel outside of their planet.
It was unsettling to think about.
“So, Bumblebee mentioned to me something about a dungeon here?”
-
I was smiling when I showed Sam the treehouse they had built me. He pointed out that it didn’t make sense, being called a dungeon- it was above ground and even a few feet in the air, built against a few large-trunked trees. Even when I explained that it was symbolic, he claimed to not understand my logic.
“It just doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe you aren’t meant to make sense of everything,” I hummed. “Isn’t it cool?”
Sam nodded, tracing his fingertips against the grain of the wood couch. He stopped when he touched the blanket tossed over the back. “It is neat- I wonder what made them think to build you a treehouse. Kind of random.”
“Sweet, but random,” I agreed, looking around the room. It wasn’t small by any means, probably bigger than your average adult treehouse. “I think they all pitched in to help. That’s how they talk about it.”
The Life {and Death} of Abigail Parker, Chapter 21
It turned out that I was right. There had been something going on that I didn’t know about. Just a few days after being gifted my sanctuary, Jazz pulled me aside to let me know how long they’d be gone.
“All of you will be leaving?”
“Almost all,” Jazz said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, we weren’t sure yet what the plan would be.”
Classified, above my rank unfortunately.
“Well, I know you and Prowl are going,” I mumbled, looking at my shoes. It was easier than looking up at the full-bodied mech. “Who’s staying?” I looked up again.
“Wheeljack is stayin’ to mech the groundbridge.”
“He got the thing working already? Wasn’t it just last week that he was testing the first prototype?”
“He was quite successful,” he told me. “Surprisingly. Guess we’ll find out. He’s stayin’, you’re stayin’, and Cliffjumper’s stayin’.”
Cliffjumper. He was easily the mech I knew the least. Of course he was staying.
“So basically all of you are leaving.”
Jazz vented and nodded. “Yeah, basically all of us.”
They were leaving.
“Will you be coming back?”
“We should only be gone for a week. Two, tops.”
“I’m going to be alone here with Wheeljack and Cliffjumper for possibly two weeks? Do you think that’s such a good idea?”
“Wheeljack has promised to be on his best behavior, and I doubt you’ll have a problem with Cliff.”
Oh, like that wasn’t a recipe for disaster. I wasn’t sure that Wheeljack’s ‘best behavior’ was any more precautionary than his regular behavior.
I wouldn’t see anybody else for two weeks. I wouldn’t see Jazz, or Prowl. What was I going to do?
It felt like I had been making so much progress with Jazz. I went to the Dungeon at least once a day, mostly by myself, but sometimes I’d ask Jazz to join me. He’d always accept the invitation. Most of those times ended in a steamy make-out sesh that made my toes curl to recall. It was such a good stress reliever. Why hadn’t I thought of it sooner?
We hadn’t slept together yet. Sex was never something I did so soon in any situationship. Most times, it was because I wanted a clear STD screening from both of us. It wasn’t like that here, but at the same time, I didn’t want to rush anything. I was enjoying the stage we were at. It was good.
He sure took courting me seriously. I wanted to return the favor to him somehow. I just wasn’t sure how yet.
Maybe seven to fourteen days without him will give me some ideas.
-
“Ah told ‘er.”
“How did she take it?”
“Better than ah expected,” Jazz mused.
Prowl vented and shook his helm. “You really don’t give her enough credit, Jazz. Abigail is a strong woman. She is pulling through just fine. Did you expect her to break at the news?”
Jazz didn’t reply right away. Had he expected his Abigail to break down after hearing that they were leaving? He had certainly prepared himself for that. Hound’s files on human psychology were a big help. He didn’t recharge much these days. Any time spent not working, with Prowl, or with Abigail in some way were spent combing through those files. The last thing he wanted to do was somehow cause a bad reaction in her. She was so fragile now.
Jazz didn’t want to break her.
“Abigail is going to be fine. The fact that you worry so much about her now concerns me. She has shown that you have nothing to worry about.”
“We can’t lose her again, Prowler,” Jazz mumbled. “Ah can’t.”
Prowl stared at the mech from across his quarters. Although he could clearly understand his mate’s feelings through their bond, he often wondered what brought his mate to those feelings.
“Your spark still pulls for her.” A statement, not a question.
Jazz nodded anyway. Before he could look up again, Prowl was right in front of him, reaching out a servo. Jazz quickly pulled him in and wrapped his servos around him in a tight hug.
Spark pulls weren’t as common now as they had been before the Great War. All Cybertronians with a spark were capable of getting spark pulls. Those pulls were usually reciprocated by one another. It did not mean that you were perfect for one another, but it meant a love unlike any other.
Jazz’s spark had known Prowl was for him not too long after their introduction. But Abigail didn’t have a spark for his to pull to. Even Ratchet struggled to fully understand it. No Cybertronian had ever had a spark pull towards a human or organic being before.
It had been what brought him to the medbay the day she arrived. He thought it was pulling him to Prowl, even though it felt like a different pull than usual. He didn’t think to question it.
It wasn’t until she had been on base for almost a month that he realized his spark was pulling towards her.
Prowl was the first to know. It didn’t make any sense to him, his Cybertronian spark pulling towards an organic being, but he didn’t question it. If Jazz determined she was the source, he believed him.
When Jazz approached Prowl about courting her the first time, Prowl knew. Jazz wasn’t usually one to make rash decisions unless it was certain. He trusted him. Jealousy wasn’t a feeling the two of them ever shared. Early on in their relationship, there had been some instances where it was warranted, but it no longer worried either of them.
There was a discussion. Prowl had been okay with Jazz entering another relationship. It wasn’t because there was a lack in their relationship. It wasn’t uncommon that their species could love more than just one other, as it isn’t uncommon for humans. Even though it was never something they pondered for themselves, it didn’t feel wrong to accept it in this circumstance. It felt okay.
It felt right. Prowl could feel the way his mate felt for this human. It was acceptable.
“Ah can’t lose her again,” Jazz mumbled against Prowl’s chest plating.
Prowl held him close. “We will not lose her again. She is the most secured human on the planet, and will continue to be even when we are gone. Hound is extending the hologram’s radius. Wheeljack and Cliffjumper are staying. Abigail will be waiting for us when we return.”
Jazz nodded against him.
“Recharge with her tonight, will you? I’ll wake you when it’s time to leave.”
Jazz and a few others were leaving before the rest of them to secure a makeshift base. Prowl was not leaving until they had it secured.
They had found an Energon deposit on Earth. They needed it, but they weren’t sure if the Decepticons had already found it. They were just as desperate. It wasn’t the first deposit they had found on this planet, but it was the biggest thus far. It would be a necessary advantage to either side.
-
It had been hard to work that afternoon. Jazz broke the news to me at lunchtime. Now that I knew what was going on, Ratchet had a whole list of things he wanted done both before they left and after. Wheeljack would help me as needed, but I was in charge of making sure the place didn’t catch fire or something.
I really hoped Wheeljack would be on his best behavior. I couldn’t imagine myself fighting Autobot-sized fires.
My shift in the medbay that afternoon went by quicker than I imagined. As soon as I was done with my tasks, Ratchet shooed me out. Jazz’s holoform met me in the hallway.
“Ya ready for Date Night?” he asked me.
I nodded, taking his outstretched arm. “I’m ready. Let’s hit it.”
We took a walk outside before dinner. I had been working on marking off a good walking trail, so we walked that for the most part. I showed Jazz all of the areas I wanted to mark later, and smooth out the terrain with the help of someone. I wasn’t sure who to ask yet. Leveling out the path mostly involved just having an Autobot walk back and forth along where I want the path, and the terrain slowly softens underneath. Mirage had helped the most thus far, but I wondered if anybot else cared to contribute.
On our walk, Jazz told me that there would be very low communication while they were gone. It didn’t surprise me, any communications could compromise the whole thing, but they wouldn’t be completely radio silent. That brought me some comfort.
I didn’t want him to go, even though I knew he was coming back. Anything could happen.
But I couldn’t ask him to stay. I wanted to, but he was an Autobot first and foremost. His Autobot comrades were there for him before I was, and would be there for him long after I’m just a memory.
Thinking of him living on after my demise made me sick to my stomach. Life was so unfair.
“Ya got that existential look on ya face.”
“I have a specific existential look?”
“Ya do,” Jazz chuckled. “What’s on your mind?”
“I think I’m gonna miss you while you’re gone,” I admitted softly, shuffling my feet. “All of you, but especially you.”
“Aw, gonna make me blush.”
I nudged his shoulder playfully. “Don’t be getting a big head, Jazzy. I’ll survive.”
He grinned at me. “Ya better, cuz I’m comin’ back to ya. We’ll be back before ya know it.”
I doubted that.
An hour must’ve gone by after dinner where we just sat with each other in the treehouse. Neither of us said much, and just enjoyed each other’s silent company. He had an arm around my shoulders, and I rested my cheek against his shoulder with my eyes closed. Our bodies, even his holoform, matched breaths.
It was no wonder I fell for him the first time. He was unlike anybody I had ever met. They all were.
“Why me?”
“Hm?”
“Of all humans, why me?” I asked him quietly, tracing circles on his thigh.
Jazz hummed again. “Ya didn’t really leave me a choice, Sweetspark. Once I knew, I knew.”
“How did you know? What did you know?”
“Ya really wanna know?”
“Why else would I ask?” I kissed his jaw. “Why me? How did you know?”
Jazz cleared his throat. “Abigail, do ya know what a ‘spark pull’ is or what it means?”
A spark pull. It sounded familiar.
“I’ll take that as a ‘no’. Well, beings with sparks are capable of somethin’ called a ‘spark pull’. It generally is only known to happen with other spark-bearers. Before I knew it, I could feel my spark pull to you. That’s how I knew.”
He went into further explanation on ‘spark pulls’. It was typically a romantic attraction, though it could also be platonic. It was the closest equivalent they had to soulmates, but not everyone with a spark would experience a spark pull towards another in their lifetime. It was less and less common now. Jazz’s spark had pulled towards Prowl, and it had been reciprocated.
“Your spark feels a pull towards me?”
“In a way I’m afraid you can’t even imagine.”
How frustrating.
He continued. “A spark pull can be satiated, but in the case with you… I dunno if there’s a way to safely-”
“Satiated?” I frowned. “Satiated by-? Oh! Sparkmerging?”
“There are many terms for it, but yeah, ya get the idea. Spark-bonding, spark-merging, interfacing- our way of interfacing is similar to yours, but we have differen’t parts-”
I waved my hand in the air. “Yeah, Chromia gave me ‘the Talk’ ages ago.” Maybe it wasn’t that long ago, but it felt like a lifetime ago. “I’m sorry I can’t do those things with you, Jazz.”
Jazz shook his head. “Ya have no need to apologize, Abby. It ain’t your fault you’re human. Somethin’ I came to terms with long ago.”
I didn’t say anything. Again, life was so unfair.
He placed his hand under my chin and lifted it. “Hey, not the existential face again.”
“You’re gonna make me cry, Jazz, should probably change the subject.”
“O’ course. How’s this?”
It was impossible for me to say no to that kiss. And the many that followed. He was intoxicating.
“I can’t believe you’re gonna be gone,” I whined against him, breathing heavily. “What am I going to do with all this pent-up energy?”
“Better not take it out on Cliff,” he growled against me, biting my lower lip. “Don’ think Ah could handle it.”
“God, I can barely handle you,” I moaned. “How did I ever manage two?”
“Prowler’s a different flavor,” he grinned against my lips.
-
It was dark out when we walked back to base, hand in hand. I could still hear the sounds of summer bugs and insects, and there were even a few fireflies on our path. Jazz reminded me that because of the secured perimeter, I wasn’t confined to the inside of the base while they were gone, but also added that he’d prefer me not go farther than the Dungeon. I agreed with him quietly. Until I got the rest of my paths sorted out, I could easily get lost just wandering about.
When we got back to my quarters, I had an idea.
“This is gonna sound weird, but- uh, have I ever slept with you in your real form?”
Jazz looked like he was about to glitch. “Uh, well, Sweetspark, we talked about-”
“Not like that, but I mean sleeping. Is that a weird question to ask?”
Jazz laughed now. “Ah! I gotcha. Yeah, ya used to enjoy sleepin’ on my chest plates. Why do ya ask?”
“Can I sleep with you in your quarters tonight?” I asked him, extending my lower lip in a pout. “Please?”
“Ya act like I can say no to ya.”
“ ‘No’ is always an option, but I bet I can be pretty persuasive.”
When my watch read eleven at night, I found myself in my new favorite sleeping spot. His chest plates were warm, but not too hot. I laid on my stomach with my cheek pressed against them. I could feel my heartbeat start to level out, my breaths relaxed.
It was no wonder I liked sleeping here. I felt like I was on top of the world.
Jazz stroked a digit against my back, his visor was dimmed. “Atta girl.”
“Start sayin’ that shit, and see what happens,” I mumbled against the warm metal. “Don’t you remember how that got me fired up last time?”
He chuckled, making his chest rumble in the most delightful way. “Comfortable?”
“Very.”
There was soft jazz music playing in the background. There we laid together in silence, listening to the music, and just enjoying each other’s company. Slightly cool air from his vents blew around me, but the blanket I had was enough to keep me from getting chills.
I almost didn’t want to fall asleep. I knew that when I did finally wake up, he would already be gone. I’d be waking up in my quarters alone, as I would for at least the next week. It took me everything I had to try to sleep anyway.
They were going to come back. Jazz was going to come back. They had to.
The Life {and Death} of Abigail Parker, Chapter 20
“Come on, Abigail, I said no peekin’!”
“I can’t help that there’s gaps at my nose, Jazz, I’m only human. I peek!”
“No peek!” he chided me again, one hand on my shoulder, the other softly against my back. “I said so!”
It wasn’t hard to gather that we were outside now. It was a little warmer outside than it was in the base. Even with an industrial heating system, it was a struggle to get the entire base above sixty degrees. I always wore a jacket. The bots didn’t mind the temperature that much.
I did.
“You know I don’t like surprises.”
“You don’t like surprises when you know they’re comin’,” he corrected, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “But this time, you had no clue.” He was so proud of himself.
He did kidnap me at the end of shift in the medbay. I had just planned on walking home, making some noodles, and taking a nap or something. Everyone was busy again. They didn’t tell me why, but something was up. I just knew it.
“Alright, you got me,” I conceded. We were still walking on less than smooth terrain. “Can you at least give me a hint?”
“Nope!”
Damn. I tried.
We walked in silence for a few minutes. It surprised me that I wasn’t nervous. Something in me just trusted him, trusted Jazz with my life. He had been nothing but good to me ever since I had lost my memories. Sure, I assumed that it frustrated him, but he was good at not letting it show. He was okay with taking it slow.
We had only kissed a handful of times.
“Alrighty, here we are,” he said, patting me on the shoulder. “Ya ready?”
“Hope so,” I joked.
Jazz laughed and slowly untied the bandana. “Ta-da!”
I gasped. “Jazz, how did you-?”
Oh my God. It was a treehouse.
It was well disguised, but I could so clearly see it where I stood. It was a damn treehouse. The outer walls looked to be made from raw wood. There was a big tinted glass window right in the middle. When I tilted my head just right, I could see the entrance on the side, also a bit too well hidden.
“It won’t usually look like that, I had Hound drop the hologram to show ya,” Jazz told me. He was standing behind me now, with both hands on my shoulders. “What do ya think?”
What did I think?
“Jazz, what is this?”
“A treehouse!” he exclaimed excitedly. “We made it for you.”
They made it for me?
“It is normally completely camouflaged, doesn’t look like much from out here- come on, I’ll give you a tour!”
They made me a treehouse?
The outside looked cool enough, but it was nothing compared to the inside.
It was one big room, with most light coming from the window in the front. The entrance was on the side, and I had to take a few steps up to get there. It wasn’t completely in the air and in a tree, which I appreciated. I already had so many ladders to climb as it was.
There was a big woven rug right in the middle of the room. The floor beneath wasn’t rough, but it was natural untreated wood- no going barefoot in here, though I probably wouldn’t anyway. Splinters. At one end of the rug, against the wall, was a log cut out to look like a couch. Opposite of the couch was a space heater.
“And there’s no air conditioning, but if you just open the window, there’s a perfect cross-breeze.”
They really did think of everything.
As I looked around, there was just more and more I noticed. There were small lanterns hanging from the beams just below the ceiling rafters. I squinted, and saw what looked to be a skylight. A fucking skylight in my treehouse.
“Jazz, this is amazing,” I said quietly. He stood beside me now. “And so beautiful- but why did you build me a treehouse?”
Jazz blinked at me. “Well, I know the last few months have been troublin’ for ya. Even though ya do have your quarters at base, I wondered if you’d like your own space just for yourself out here.”
“Is this why everyone’s been so busy lately?”
“Yes and no.”
Damn. There was something going on that they weren’t telling me. I could feel it.
I didn’t know what to say.
Jazz shifted to stand in front of me. “This is your treehouse, Abigail, your sanctuary to go to when you need it. Or just for fun. To get away from us. Whatever you need it to be, it can be it.”
“I guess I’m not understanding,” I said with a frown. “I already have my own space.”
Jazz shook his head. “Ya do. But this can be different.”
“How?”
“Sometimes, Abster, ya ask too many questions.”
I laughed. “How else am I supposed to understand?”
He smiled at me. “You don’t need to understand everything, Sweetspark. Ya spend so much time tryin’ to understand that you forget that you’re livin’ now.”
“And a treehouse is going to help me live in the now? It’s beautiful, Jazz, and I’m not complaining about it, but-”
He pressed a finger to my lips. “Live. Now.”
I pursed my lips against his touch. He pulled his finger away before I could follow my impulse to lick it. He just waved it in front of me instead.
“I have full confidence that you’ll get there.”
“Apparently, you think lighting up a doobie might help.”
Jazz grinned. “Maybe.”
“You didn’t build me a treehouse so I wouldn’t stink up the base, did you?” I asked thoughtfully. When he didn’t answer right away, I gently pushed against his shoulder. “Hey! Not funny!”
“Oh, it is,” he chided. “More than ya know.”
God, he was just so-
So trying to get a rise out of me. And it was working. Tricky mech.
“I shouldn’t need drugs to figure out my purpose in life,” I finally said
“Bold of ya to assume you’re the only one who hasn’t figured it out yet.”
“So says the being that can live basically forever.”
I was starting to realize that I might need therapy, if only there was a therapist that could handle what I was going through.
Jazz just looked at me. “Nothing is guaranteed, Abigail. Ya know that by now. I - we - built you this treehouse because we wanted to. Nobody is permitted here without your permission now. Here, you can think, cry, scream, whatever you need. This can be your sanctuary.”
I didn’t know why my eyes began to sting. Why did I want to cry? What was wrong with me?
He pulled me into a tight hug, his arms wrapped around my waist. I just stood there for a few moments before I wrapped my arms around him. My body was trembling.
“They hurt you, Abigail. They took ya from us and they hurt you. This isn’t your fault. But ya aren’t allowing yourself to just be.”
I cried into his shirt. The mech builds me a treehouse, and there I was, breaking down like a glass house that just got hit with gunfire. My headache was back.
“I fleel- I feel like we just keep going in circles,” I bawled. “I know I’m broken, everybot else knows I’m broken, you try to help, and I keep sabotaging mys-self.”
He rubbed circles on my back. “We are goin’ in circles, but you’ll find a way out. Ya just can’t force it. Give yourself compassion, Sweetspark.”
I sniffled. “Thanks, Dr. Jazz.”
“Anytime.”
He didn’t let go of me, so neither did I him. Even with all the shit in my mind, even with everything I thought I went through and what I didn’t remember, Jazz was there for me. The Autobots were there for me. I didn’t feel like I deserved them. They had their own shit to worry about, they didn’t need a stray emotional human running around to avoid accidentally stepping on, both literally and figuratively.
“I won’t be your saving grace, Abigail. I can help ya however I can, but I will never be that for you. We can avenge you, but you have to find a way to save yourself from yourself.”
Nevermind, I didn’t need a therapist. It seemed Jazz knew a little too much about the human mind.
I finally released him from my grip. I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my jacket. “I’m such a mess.”
“Yes,” he said rather bluntly. “But you will find your way. I believe in you.”
Jazz believed in me. Whatever I was going through in my fucked up head, he believed I would overcome. I would prevail. I would get through this.
I shook my head as if it were an etch-a-sketch. “How are you and Prowl doing?”
“Ya want the intimate details? Not sure you’d be ready for that yet,” he teased lightly.
I laughed, sniffling once more. “No, not that- I just hope what I’m going through isn’t negatively affecting you guys like that. I hope it’s not.”
Jazz hummed. “No. There has been some tension, sure, but as much as you are important in our lives, Abster, you are not the only variable. And ya are not the variable that will lead to our demise.”
My mind was conflicted now. On one hand, it was relieving to hear that. On the other hand, my brain scolded myself for believing I was on this pedestal in their minds that couldn’t falter. I took deep, slow breaths.
Jazz was watching me for my reaction. He had his sunglasses on, as he always did, but I could feel his gaze through them.
“Jazz, I think my brain is done beating itself up for today.”
“The power of the treehouse,” he said, hinting at a smile. “What do you think?”
I exhaled, closing my eyes. “I think it needs a name.”
“What comes to mind?”
I wracked my brain to find an answer. They put so much thought into it, and it needed a name as such. It was meant to be my sanctuary, my refuge. They built the treehouse to help me find myself again.
“The only name that comes to mind is kind of ironic.”
“It sounds perfect.”
“I didn’t say it yet.”
Jazz shook his head. “No, ya didn’t, but I have a feeling you know what to call it now.”
I took a deep breath. “The Dungeon. It just makes sense, in a way. A place I go to when I need it, and I can make it what I want to be. It doesn’t have to come with the connotation of being inherently bad if I don’t want it to be. It’s mine, for me to use how I need to. I can bring my demons here and let them loose, I can disarm them here, and somehow maybe leave without the weight of them dragging on my ankles.”
He didn’t say anything for a few moments. Even the air seemed different now. Five minutes ago, it was thick and hard to breathe- now, it was almost too light, too thin, too easy to breathe. I didn’t quite know how to take it. Such was the exact purpose of this place.
It still caught me off guard when he removed his sunglasses and just stared at me with those eyes. I’d seen his eyes before, but there was just some power about them. They made my knees feel weak, it made my stomach feel like it hit the floor. I almost felt nervous, even though I had no reason to be. It was Jazz.
It was Jazz.
“I don’t doubt you one bit, Sweetspark,” he told me with a smile. “I’m proud of ya.”
God damn it, my eyes were tearing up again.
“Is it okay if I give ya a kiss?”
“Yes, please,” I answered a bit too quickly.
God, I didn’t know how much I had truly been keeping inside. When his lips met mine, one of his hands resting on my forearm, the other under my chin, the dam inside me burst. It was like my mind was finally realizing what I had.
This life was fucked up, there was no question about it. I had been through unimaginable things, things that people couldn’t dream of actually happening. Now, I was in hiding with the very beings that could not only protect me the best, but were the reason for all the hardship in the first place. But it was okay. I was going to be okay. Life is just fucked up sometimes.
Life brought me here, and it gave me beings that wanted to help me in a way I didn’t even realize I needed. They weren’t going to fix me, and that was okay.
I was still going to be okay. And I wasn’t alone on this journey. I didn’t have to be alone anymore.
“You’re amazing,” I mumbled against him, wrapping my arms around his neck to balance myself. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”
His lips smiled against mine. He pressed his forehead against my own. “Ya don’t need to deserve me. Ya deserve yourself.”
I scoffed against him, only pulling his body closer to mine. “Enough therapy, mech, kiss me like you mean it.”
It almost sounded like he purred in response. The kiss that followed was different. It lacked the gentleness of before- he really was kissing me like he meant it.
And damn it, it was hot.
The room suddenly felt like it had risen at least ten degrees. I contemplated taking off my jacket to make up for it, but as I began lifting it, I stopped. I wasn’t wearing anything but a bra underneath. That sort of contact seemed too foreign to me, too unfamiliar, uncharted territory. I conceded and kept the jacket on.
We had somehow moved from standing in the middle of the room to standing next to the log couch. It seemed sturdy enough, but when Jazz parted from me to sit down and patted his lap in an invitation, I could feel my own hesitation.
“Ya overthinkin’?” he said quietly, not exactly coming out as a question.
I nodded.
There was just so much I still didn’t know. Little breakthroughs here and there were oh so helpful, but allowing myself to be in the moment like this felt surreal.
I didn’t want to hesitate.
I wanted to accept what he was offering me.
After taking a deep breath, I boldly decided to join him on the couch. I carefully swung one of my legs over his and rested my knees at either side of him. I could feel a warm sensation as I adjusted myself to make myself comfortable. His hands now rested on my hips, and he was smiling at me.
The Life {and Death} of Abigail Parker, Chapter 19
It was August now. I hadn’t realized it, but ever since I lost my memory, I had been in constant fight or flight mode. That was no longer the case. Maybe it was me finally giving in to the idea that I do belong here, that I do fit in. Maybe it was me finally having a predictable schedule. Maybe it was that I no longer kept my past experiences a secret.
It could have also been whatever was blooming with Jazz. That was a possibility.
I had gotten into a simple routine. On weekdays, I spent a lot of time in the medbay. Even if there wasn’t much for me to do, Ratchet let me peruse his data systems. It was easy to look up any questions I had about Cybertronians, how their bodies worked, illnesses that might plague them. They got sick just like humans did.
“These names do not translate well,” I had said to First Aid.
“Which ones?”
“Cosmic rust? Cybercrosis? Spark-attack? They sound made up.” Fantasy diseases.
“You say that like all language isn’t just made up,” he said with a small laugh.
He had a good point. Many of them contained ‘cyber’, which just made me giggle. English was a complex language, but Cybertronian made it look like a piece of cake. I didn’t think I’d ever learn it. I wasn’t even sure my vocal chords could take it.
“True, but for such complex diseases, they have rather simple names.”
“And ‘heart attack’ is any better?” he asked.
Another good point.
Ratchet was less excited to answer my questions than First Aid. I tried not to bother him unless it was absolutely necessary. Most days began with him telling me what his expectations were and ended with a conversation about how that went. He seemed satisfied enough with that.
Every other day, Jazz would pick me up for lunch. He always let me know ahead of time if I needed to make something myself or if he had something planned. As it turned out, he was not the only mech that knew how to cook human food. Hound was quite the chef.
It must have been how he knew what food supplies I’d need here. It made sense.
“Mirage, you aren’t due for your annual until next week,” Ratchet said.
“I know, doc, I’m not here for that. Primus knows I wouldn’t show up early for that.”
I tilted my head to look at them. Ratchet was standing at his console, and Mirage was standing next to him. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with him. Most bots only came to the medbay for repairs. Sparring incidents aside, the medbay was fairly quiet most days.
Mirage looked at me with a grin. “Perimeter is all set. What do you say we get some fresh air?”
I opened my mouth to exclaim ‘hell yes!’, but I quickly closed it. I was on the clock, technically, even if I wasn’t getting paid. This was my job. I couldn’t just leave it willy-nilly. I looked at Ratchet for permission.
Ratchet paused for a few moments. “... Go on, get out of here.”
Oh, I was ready to get out.
-
“I never thought I’d be so happy to be outside.”
“Even with the brown slush?”
I laughed. “Even with the slush.”
We weren’t far from the base. Down the mountain, there were areas of land that weren’t caked in snow and ice. If I squinted hard enough, I could see the shadow of a road miles away. We were much farther from civilization here than we had been in DC.
Through the trees, I could see the sun trying to peek out through the clouds. If I stepped into the light, I could feel the warmth on my face. It made me smile.
“It’s not so bad, I guess,” Mirage said thoughtfully. The tree beside him barely moved when he pressed his weight against it. “It’s no Cybertron.”
Their home planet. It was lightyears away. Even if they did possess the means to travel home, the Decepticons would find a way to hinder any thoughts of peacefully rebuilding their society. The war had to be over first. The Autobots would either have to find peace with or finish the Decepticons, it seemed, before that was even a possibility. Though it was quiet now, I knew better than to think the war was anything but far from being over.
“What do you think will happen?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, when the war is over. You guys will go back to Cybertron?” I asked. It seemed foolish to think that a thousands of years long war would end in my lifetime, but it had to end eventually. What would they do? “What’s next?”
Mirage vented. “Once the war is over, we will return, yes. Try to rebuild.”
It was beyond me to imagine what kind of work that would entail. Inside, I was a little thankful that it wasn’t something that I had to worry about. I couldn’t imagine the stress of building a new society.
“What did you do before the war?” I asked him quietly. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, of course, but-”
“I understand your curiosity,” he said, raising an optic ridge. “You sure you wanna know?”
“Can’t be worse than Prowl being an Enforcer.” It wasn’t something I seriously had a problem with, but it had quickly become the running gag. I always liked to play along. Prowl somehow didn’t have a problem with this.
That made him laugh. “I was no Enforcer.”
“What were you?” I was perched on a rock now, with my legs crossed in front of me.
“Me,” he said simply. “I was myself.”
I tapped my fingers against my knee thoughtfully. “And who is Mirage, really?”
“A mech with no patience for nonsense.”
That could have described so many of them.
He continued. “I was very fortunate in my life before the war. My days were spent in good company, with good Energon. I was a member of the elite society on Cybertron.”
“Is there a membership for that?” I asked jokingly.
“Very funny. Technically, no, but it did come at a cost.” He stared off into the distance. “I always thought that the atrocities of the lower classes weren’t my concern. Once it became clear that those atrocities were going to affect me and my lifestyle… I had a decision to make.” He vented.
“What decision did you make?”
“I chose sides,” he stated. “As almost everybot did at the time. I wasn’t fond of either cause, but I settled.”
I hummed, closing my eyes. “You settled for the Autobots. What do you think of your decision now?”
“It hasn’t been easy. I do, however, believe I made the right choice.”
I could sense conflict in his voice. It was hard not to read further into it, but I somehow prevailed. As much as I wanted to ask him more, learn more about his life before the war and who he was, it was better that I didn’t. If he wanted to share, he would in his own time.
“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you decided to join the Autobots.”
For a while, I just listened to the sounds of nature. Mirage didn’t speak much after that, so my mind was free to wander and enjoy my limited outdoor freedom.
I never thought that hearing birds’ chirping would make me smile as much as it did. It wasn’t something I thought I missed.
We were gone for less than an hour, and I once more found myself looking up any and all questions I had about Cybertron and its inhabitants through Ratchet’s database in the medbay. I had so much to learn about my tall metal friends.
I didn’t have access to personnel files or anything. That would have felt too intrusive, anyway. It wasn’t an easy database to search through, but I had access to files on Cybertronian ‘biology’, historical documents, the Old Tales of Cybertron, images of just about anything I could think of about and on that planet. A lot of it was easily translated into English at the touch of a button, but there were some things that didn’t translate at all. Most of it had to do with their technology. When I was on my fifth question about that, First Aid suggested that I talk to Wheeljack about my curiosities. He was something of a ‘mad scientist’, I gathered, and the one whose ‘office’ I wasn’t allowed near for a while due to an experiment gone wrong.
I was pretty sure I was allowed back there by now. Surely, he’s righted his wrongs by now.
Ratchet decided to kick me out late in the afternoon. He claimed that he had nothing else for me to do. That had never been a reason for me to leave early, but I decided that I’d take advantage of that. It was Friday. Friday didn’t mean much for me anymore, but I did get the next two days to myself. I had nothing planned. The world was my oyster.
Well, the base and the secured perimeter, at least.
I decided to change into comfy clothes before going to see Wheeljack. Leggings instead of dark wash jeans, a hoodie instead of a blouse. I had looked at my hair quickly in the mirror before deciding to put on a bandana as a headband. Surely, Jackie wouldn’t care about how my hair looked.
Minutes later, I was standing in front of the hangar, in awe at everything in front of me.
The hangar door was left open now, and there was hardly any sulfur smell left. Bits and bobs hung all around the walls, sorts of technology I didn’t recognize, but I assumed they were tools. There were so many things in there. It was organized in such a way that I just knew there was a method to the madness.
Maybe that was why they called them ‘mad scientists’.
“Miss Parker! Watch your step, and stay behind those tape lines, please.”
I waved, smiling up at the mech. “Hey, Jackie! What’s new?”
Creative humans only wished they had a crafting table as big and intricate as Jackie’s. “Oh, not much. I’m still working on re-engineering groundbridge technology in a way that this human technology can handle.”
There was a small ladder leading up to the surface of his workspace. Once I was granted permission, I climbed up. “Not too much Cybertronian technology here on Earth unless you make it, huh?”
“That’s right,” he responded, gesturing to what was in his hand. It looked like a complicated TV remote, only Cybertronian-sized. “Have to make everything myself. I’m not complaining about it, though others might.”
I chuckled. “They think you’re a bit careless sometimes, but in the pursuit of knowledge, don’t you have to be?”
Wheeljack smiled down at me. “Finally, someone who understands!”
“So what exactly are you re-engineering?”
Whatever he said went mostly over my head. Once words began to switch back and forth from English to Cybertronian (mostly because English simply didn’t have good enough equivalents) Jackie got the hint that it was above my skillset to understand. Once he began to dumb it down, I realized that he was trying to build a system that would allow transportation almost like teleportation.
“But only within the confines of this planet,” he specified, shaking a digit at me. “The supplies I have couldn’t possibly handle space travel.”
“What is your opinion on time travel?”
“It’s been done, but not in the way that you think.”
“Explain, please, but in a way I’ll understand.”
Wheeljack laughed, setting down whatever it was he was tinkering with. “Right. Abigail, do you understand the term ‘lightspeed’?”
I nodded. Of course I did, who didn’t? The speed of light. I couldn’t remember how fast it was, but it was fast.
“Your race, the human race, considers lightspeed as the fastest one could possibly travel. Are you also familiar with the theory that if you were on a planet light-years away from Earth and you look at Earth through a very strong telescope, you will see dinosaurs?”
“Oddly enough, that sounds familiar.”
“I’ll conclude with this, then. If time travel is possible, then it already exists, but not in the way as depicted in human movies.”
I snapped my fingers. “And here I thought that Back to the Future was based on real life. It still could be.”
Wheeljack just laughed. “Sure, Abigail, whatever you say. Anyway, I’m just about ready to launch my first prototype for Project Groundbridge.”
“That sounds exciting! Can I watch?”
“No.”
I pouted. “Come on, Wheeljack, please?”
“Your mates, whether official or not, would have my tailpipe if anything happened to you on my watch,” Wheeljack told me pointedly. “Their bad side is not one I’d like to be on.”
Jazz. Prowl. Thinking of them put a smile on my face without me realizing it.
“Tell you what, though- when I’m sure it’s ready, I’ll let you know and once it’s fully functional, you can be the first human to go through.”
“If they don’t want me around for the testing, I doubt they’d be okay with me being the first human to go through it.”
“You have a good point.”
I glanced down at my watch. “I should probably head back and start on something for dinner.”
As I was on my way out, I heard him call out, “Don’t be a stranger, Abby!”
The Life {and Death} of Abigail Parker, Chapter 18
I tried not to let Sunstreaker’s words get to me. He wasn’t really a fan of anybody that wasn’t his brother. It shouldn’t have surprised me that of all the mechs I knew, he seemed to like me the least. The confusing part was that according to many, he didn’t dislike me before. He only disliked me now.
Sunstreaker thought I was being a distraction to his superiors. He had a right to that, I supposed, even if it was something out of my control.
I found a way to keep busy the day after I spoke with Jazz. Even though I had decided earlier that time no longer mattered to me, I decided that it needed to if I wanted to keep my sanity intact. I needed a schedule. I needed a routine of some sort.
Breakfast was had not too long after I woke up. After breakfast, I did all of my dishes without putting it off. Score.
It wasn’t even ten in the morning before the place was spotless. Most of the mess is usually clothing I don’t care to put in the hamper or dishes I don’t care to wash. There was a washer/dryer unit in a closet in the hallway, but I didn’t have enough to start a load, so in the hamper the clothes stayed. I didn’t have anything to mop the floor, but I had found a broom that did the job of at least getting the dust moved around. I didn’t foresee myself licking the floor anytime soon; a proper clean could wait.
Now what?
-
“Thank you for seeing me, Optimus. I know you’re pretty, uh, busy lately.”
“I will always make time for those who need it,” Optimus told me. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
I hadn’t had many words with the Prime. Even at the party weeks ago, although he was there, we didn’t exchange more than a few words. He was just so official, so noble. It made me feel some type of way.
Optimus’ office was not too far from the base’s secret entrance. The entrance barely looked like an entrance, and more so looked like the dead end of a hallway. It was rarely opened. Even so, I swore I saw more traffic through that hallway than probably the rest of the base. His door was always open, even if it wasn’t.
On my way to his office (if you could even call it that, it didn’t even have a desk), I had gone through what I wanted to say to him. But now, standing on a catwalk at his optic level, none of those words came to me. My mind was blank. I didn’t know what to say.
Oh, yeah.
“I wanted to know if there was any way I could be of use here,” I said, choosing my words carefully. The last thing I wanted was to be caught stuttering in his presence. Even though I knew he was the epitome of good, he was still intimidating somehow. “Especially since I’m probably confined until further notice. I want to help somehow.”
Was there anything that I could do that they couldn’t? Probably not.
But for God’s sake, I couldn’t just hang out forever with nothing to do but clean my quarters and plan social gatherings. I refused to just wait around and find out.
Plus, I’d go nuts just thinking about the deal with Jazz. I couldn’t just think about that all day. I needed sustenance. Something to do.
His optics were fully focused on me now, his optic ridges raised. There were small scratches scattered along his faceplate. “I can see how you might have come to that conclusion. Hound and Mirage have begun establishing a safety perimeter. Once complete, there should be no reason to keep you within these walls alone.”
“How big a perimeter are we talkin’?” I asked.
“Big enough.” Was that a smile? “For now, I fear it bears too much risk to allow you to leave the base, even with an Autobot protector.”
I heaved a sigh. I had figured as much, but it still stung to hear. “Do you really think they’d go after me again?”
The great Prime nodded. As he shifted his stance, I could hear creaks and what sounded like air brakes from his joints. “I fear that even in your condition, they would not hesitate.”
My condition. Please. They caused my condition. What more could they want with me?
I began to pace, no longer looking at him head on. “Because of my relationship with everyone. My friendships. Prowl and Jazz.”
“It had unfortunately made you their target,” he said. “By now, I’m sure you understand why.”
I appreciated that he didn’t go into further detail. It was already at the forefront of my mind at all times.
“Is this why you guys don’t have a bunch of stray humans roaming around?”
His optics flickered. “Maybe.”
“Okay, so I have to stay here until further notice. I kind of figured that. Not so bad. But once the perimeter is set, I can leave?”
“I refuse to hold you hostage here, Abigail. If you wish to leave, we will find a way.”
That wasn’t what I wanted, was it? Did I want to leave?
No.
Yes.
I wasn’t sure.
“I guess it is nice, not having to worry about making rent,” I hummed. “Or grocery shopping. Hound has me set for months with non-perishables.”
“There is a town fifty miles from here, if it becomes necessary for you to resupply.”
That didn’t sound too far for me, but I also would not be the one traversing through the mountains. Well, I would, but I wouldn’t be driving. The terrain was rough and mostly snow covered, even in the summer this far up. It was no wonder they chose this location for the base.
Neither of us spoke for a while. I could hear air whistling softly through his vents, the creaking of his metal form as he shifted even just a little. As much as I spent time with the Autobots now, they were usually not in their full form, not for direct engagement like this. Most of them switched to their holoforms. Optimus Prime did not, and even though it made me nervous, I couldn’t fault him for it.
“What happened to all of the NEST soldiers?” I asked, tilting my chin up at him. “I mean, I know the base was attacked- Prowl said they got away. Why didn’t they join us here?”
“It is my understanding that those who served in the program were reassigned,” he told me.
“Reassigned-?” I stopped myself. I didn’t know much about the program itself, but the way he spoke made me feel uneasy. “You guys had an alliance with the government. What does that mean? NEST is just… No more?”
“Your-” He shook his helm. “Their leaders determined that it was no longer beneficial to align themselves with us. From now on, we are on our own.”
That didn’t sound good. That didn’t sound good at all.
“Look, Optimus. I may not be the Abigail you once knew, but I want to help. There’s gotta be something I can do to help. I’m no warrior, and God knows I don’t stand a chance against even someone my own size, but if there’s anything at all that you think I can do that would be of use- I’m all ears. It’s killing me to not be able to contribute in some way.” When a look of concern crossed his face, I added, “Not literally killing me. It’s a figure of speech.”
Optimus then nodded, his optics darting from me to the space behind me. “I will keep that in mind, Abigail.”
-
Being Ratchet’s assistant was not what I had in mind when I thought about what I could do to keep busy. However, as I made my way to the medbay, I decided that I was better off with Ratchet than with Wheeljack. Jackie had his own lab here. I knew exactly where it was, mostly because he had set off the fire alarms more than once on our second day here. They were quickly disabled after that, at least in his lab.
“It’s a wonder how you got on without me, Ratch. This is some serious work-”
“Mind your mouth, sparkling, I’m busy.”
I stuck my tongue out at him. His back was turned, but he still raised a wrench in warning. I quickly put my tongue back where it belonged.
My almost-bachelor degree in communications and minor in Spanish didn’t really prepare me to be an asset for the Autobots. Ratchet had me doing busy work. Putting things away if I could reach (and if it was something I could hold), cleaning instruments before sanitization, and importing/sorting data into the base’s archives. At the very least, I hoped that I was lightening someone’s work load. Even if it was just for Ratchet or First Aid.
I was shoulder deep, cleaning a beaker of some sort when the medbay doors opened.
“Heya, Ratch! ‘Aid!” Jazz called into the room. There was something different about him now. He walked different. He sounded different. I couldn’t put my finger on it. He didn’t say my name in greeting.
No.
Jazz made his way over to me almost like it was a production. He stopped just before the counter I was standing on. Before I could figure out what was going on, he was bowing in front of me, offering me his hand.
It made my heart flutter. Even though his hand was basically the size of my body.
“M’lady.”
“Jazz!” I could hardly get his name out. I could feel my cheeks begin to burn. “What are you doing here? I’m working!”
“Thought I’d bring ya lunch on your first day!” Only half of his visor was lit, and it took me embarrassingly long to figure out he was winking. “Is that alright?”
I hadn’t even noticed the bag in his hand.
“That’s so sweet,” I said, looking between him and his offering. “What did you get me? How did you-” My brain began to spin. There was no mess hall here- everything I ate was made by me. I didn’t have anything leftover in the fridge. Where did he get the food?
“You may take your break now, Abigail,” Ratchet said. “An hour should suffice.”
“I made it for ya, Sweetspark,” Jazz told me proudly.
He made me human food?
It was either the sweetest thing ever or the worst. I didn’t know if Autobots knew how to cook. They didn’t have food like we humans do.
“Climb on, ya can eat in our room.”
Whatever was in the bag smelled good enough that I didn’t think twice before doing what he said. And off we went.
“Little quick to be bringing me back to your place, isn’t it?” I joked quietly, leaning against his shoulder plate. It was more comfortable to be seated on his shoulder than in his hand, more stable.
He snickered. “Ya think? Nah, Abs, it’s not like that. Ya want courtin’, ya’s gettin’ courtin’!”
Now I could tell he was playing up his accent. He had to be.
“Is Prowl home?”
“He’s on duty,” Jazz told me as he entered a string of numbers into the pad by the door. “We do have separate quarters, you know.”
“Why’s that?”
The door slid open. “Boundaries. We all need our alone time, even mates.”
The rooms of the Autobots were a lot less furnished than I expected. Their rooms were for resting, for recharge, and a few other things I didn’t ask about. Since they didn’t spend as much time in their rooms, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that they weren’t overly decorated or styled.
Of course, Jazz’s room was the exception. Just barely.
It didn’t make sense for there to be a giant shag rug in the middle of the room, but there it was, the same color as Energon. There was a metal berth alongside one wall. Opposite of the berth was a monitor that took up the entire wall, floor to ceiling, and this was no normal size room to begin with. He could easily do donuts without running into anything.
Not that he would, that would probably mess up the rug. It had to be just for aesthetic purposes.
In the middle of the rug was a plaid blanket.
“Indoor picnic for lunch?”
“Since we can’t have it outside,” he smiled.
Jazz’s holoform and I got settled on the rug. I carefully untied the sack and looked inside to see what was on the menu for lunch. Once I saw what it was, I blinked a few times. The words weren’t coming to me.
“Is this…?” I pulled one of the contents out of the bag slowly. “A chicken wrap?”
Jazz nodded. “No lettuce, extra cheese. Here.” He stuck his hand in the bag before pulling out a little cup with a lid. “Sauce.”
I gasped. “Is this ranch?”
“What else would it be?”
“Where did you get this?”
“Made it.”
I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to kiss him so bad.
Ever since I was little, I loved to dip things in ranch dressing. It was the superior condiment. However, it was always a struggle to find the perfect ranch dressing. Restaurant ranch was always superior, the stuff they make in house, but it was difficult to replicate because of one reason or another. I always blamed it on the mayonnaise.
One sniff, and I knew this wasn’t some stuff from a bottle. It had no preservatives. It was liquid gold.
All I could manage was, “How?”
My stomach responded before he did, and he just laughed at me, shaking his head. He wasn’t going to tell me how. Fraggar.
“Eat up, we only got an hour.”
“Me eat, you talk,” I said, laying down a cloth napkin on my lap. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”
And so I ate, and Jazz talked. He decided to tell me a tale about him on Cybertron when he was young, before the war. It was hard to believe he had been alive that long. Save for a few scratches and creaks, it was difficult for me to tell age for the Autobots based on looks alone. Jazz had skirted around the subject before, equating himself to an almost middle-aged human. He certainly gave me thirty-something vibes, even if he was thousands of years old.
I tried not to think of it that way.
I had to keep reminding myself to eat my wrap. Every so often, his shades would fall slightly, and I could see myself in his eyes. They were so clear, so bright, so blue. His words would turn into mumblings in my ear. I could feel myself edging closer to him as he continued.
Jazz was the first Autobot I met after I lost my memory. I remembered feeling so confused, wondering why the strange man was talking to me on my break. I remembered how his tone changed when he figured out I didn’t know who he was. Now that I thought about it, he had been scared. Frightened. He tried his best not to let it be known, but looking back, it was so obvious.
“Abs, ya there? Paying attention?” He waved his arm in front of my face. He was smiling.
“Hm? Oh! Yeah, I am, totally.”
He didn’t press, and continued his tale. There was no way what I said was believable. It didn’t appear that he cared either way.
Once I was finished with my meal, I had edged myself so close to him that we were almost touching. He wasn’t speaking anymore.
“That was a really cool story.”
“Didn’t finish it. Ya weren’t payin’ attention.”
“Do you really think that?”
“I do!”
“Aw, Jazz, I wouldn’t do you like that,” I teased. I walked my fingers along my thigh. I made a ‘whoosh’ sound, jumping them to his leg, and I finger walked there.
He laughed. “What are ya doin’?”
“That’s not how it goes, it’s ‘how YOU doin’?’ “ I corrected happily. “Easy mistake. I don’t expect you to know my vague pop culture references.”
“When it hasn’t been your day, your week, your month, or even your ear?” he said in a sing-song voice. He leaned in, grinning from ear to ear. “But I just can’t figure out the next line. Help a mech out?”
Our noses were a hair from touching. My breath caught in my throat. I had to swallow before I spoke.
“I’ll be there for you,” I sang quietly. I leaned forward the slightest bit more and pressed my forehead to his. It was almost like electricity went through us. I could feel the tips of my fingers and toes tingle, ever so slightly.
“Is this okay, Abigail?” Jazz asked me softly. His hands resting on my knees now.
No, but I was going to make it okay.
“Is this?” I leaned back slightly, my eyes darting from his lips to his shades. I could almost see his eyes.
I didn’t have to ask for more permission. He had already closed the gap between us.
It had been so long since I remembered kissing anybody. I made a point to not kiss on the first date, not that I had many of those, and I didn’t recall being in many serious relationships where kissing and other things were a common occurrence.
Kissing, it turned out, was like riding a bike. After a while not doing it, you start out a bit rough, but you get settled into a comfortable rhythm fairly quickly.
I could feel my lips begin to tingle. A warm sensation below my belly. I could feel Jazz’s hand running up and down my back before he pulled me closer by my waist. When we separated, I realized that I had forgotten to breathe.
Jazz chuckled as he patted my back. “Easy, girl. Ya always forget that part.”
“We’re supposed to be pretending this is the first time, remember?” I joked breathily, exhaling through my mouth. “That was… Wow.”
He puffed out his chest. “Yup, I’m pretty good at it. Ya always said that.” He pulled his shades down and winked at me.
This mech was going to be the death of me. And I was dating two of them? Insanity.
I pulled him in for a hug. It was tighter than usual, but I figured he didn’t need to breathe anyway. That was made clear. “My hour’s probably up soon, huh?”
Jazz rested his chin on my shoulder and began tracing circles on my back with one finger. “Got about ten minutes left.”
“Hmm, what could we possibly do in ten minutes?” I hummed, unable to hide the smile in my voice. God, I was giddy. What was happening to me?
“We could see if you remember to breathe next time.”
The Life {and Death} of Abigail Parker, Chapter 17
It seemed that everybot was busy in the days that followed. They were all pulling double duty, making sure all tracks and traces of us were covered, and other things I probably wouldn’t understand even if they explained it to me like I was a sparkling. I got lonely, but I knew they all had better things to do than babysit me. I was an adult, after all, even if I didn’t feel like it some days.
I was turning thirty at the end of the year. I’d barely even qualify as a young adult then. I’d just be an adult. A regular adult. That was weird to think about. Was thirty when you started being considered middle-aged?
Hound probably knew. He’s done more research on humans than any of them, possibly combined. Wouldn’t surprise me.
It was the beginning of July, though I wasn’t sure of the exact date. The days in the week didn’t change my routine like they once did. I had no schedule. I had no job.
I was going to die of boredom before dying at the hand of a Decepticon at this rate.
Prowl and Jazz were both busy, but I also faintly remembered sending them a message through their comms that I wanted some space for a bit. I may or may not have had a few shots at the time. It may or may not have been two in the afternoon. I may or may not have been drinking alone.
Again, I repeat. There wasn’t much for me to do.
The air wasn’t as tense as it had been when we arrived. Conversations in the hallways were no longer being hushed. I even joked to myself that the speed limit in the hallways must have gone down.
When I sent that to First Aid, he had replied with laughing/crying emojis. I didn’t even know they had those.
The TV screen in my room was connected to the mini datapad Wheeljack had given me the day after we arrived. App-like programs filled the home screen, not many of which I could recognize. I didn’t know what half of them did. The ones I knew how to use were the TV remote app and the communication channels.
It was no cell phone, but it had everybody I needed on it. Everybody that I could communicate with now.
I wondered if the Autobots hated group chats as much as some humans did.
I was scrolling through my contacts list when I noticed the date at the top of the screen. It was the fourth of July. A Monday.
The only way I knew to celebrate the fourth was with barbeque, but it wasn’t like I was going to get any here. No grill-outs this year. There was snow outside on the mountain, for Primus’ sake. It didn’t feel like the fourth of July to me. It wasn’t my favorite ‘holiday’ anyway. Just a good excuse to get together and have good food.
To be fair, though, I wasn’t even in the right country for that holiday. It was just another day in Canada.
There was a rec room here as well, similar to the one back in DC, but this one wasn’t nearly as busy. There were no humans wandering around. Not many Autobots hung out there like they did in DC.
It occurred to me that I’d have more luck socializing there than in my quarters. I grabbed my reusable water jug and headed out.
“Hey, Abby, how’s it going?”
“Hey, Blue,” I called out to the mech with a wave. “I’m just about dying from boredom here.”
He made a face. “That’s no good! You’ve been in your room a lot lately, most of us figured you didn’t want to be bothered.” He was walking beside me, and taking painfully short strides. I could keep up easily.
I sighed. “I guess I can understand why. It’s all just a lot to take in, you know? The whole ‘Decepticons erased your memories and replaced them, surprise!’ isn’t an easy pill to swallow.”
“I can’t imagine it would be,” Bluestreak said, peering down at me. “Is there anything I can do to help? Or any of us?”
“Prowl and Jazz said they were giving me space to figure things out. I just wish…” I groaned. “I wish I could freaking remember, you know? This sucks. This whole situation sucks.”
Bluestreak stopped walking. “I have an idea!”
Now, I didn’t expect that idea to be a Mario Kart marathon. I didn’t even know they had a console to play it on here.
The rec room at this base didn’t have seating for humans or holoforms, not permanent seating like couches or anything. We managed to make do with various metal chairs, just placing them in front of the obnoxiously large screen against the wall. They weren’t comfortable, not even in the slightest, but I was too busy to care.
“Ha! Take that, ‘CeeCee!” I exclaimed with a grin. “There’s no avoiding the blue shell-”
Before I could finish my statement, I watched as the top corner screen’s character slipped from first place into second. The new first place character, Bluestreak, got hit instead.
“Gah!” Bluestreak shrieked. “Not again!”
Arcee’s holoform just smiled and shrugged. “Not my first time.”
I rolled my eyes, but I smiled back at her. “Nice going.”
I was never good at Mario Kart. It was rare that I got first place, though I usually did crack the top five. I was in fourth place now. Arcee was back in first, Bluestreak had dropped to third. Hound was in second.
“How do I know you guys aren’t cheating here?” I pouted.
“You just have to trust us, dear Abigail,” Hound replied with a chuckle. “Though, we could if we wanted to.”
“It’s no fun that way,” Arcee said.
“Why would we even need to cheat, anyways?” Bluestreak asked. “We don’t need to!”
I raised my eyebrows. “That so? You saying I’m not good enough?”
They were all silent.
I sighed again, louder this time. “That was a joke. You guys need to stop walking on eggshells around me. I’m not going to break. I’m just going through a little life crisis. Lighten up.”
I almost threw my controller when I ran into a banana peel. Maybe I was going to break. Who knows.
“What’s the deal now, anyway? With the Decepticons? Are we planning to attack, ambush, what?”
“We’re settling in here,” Hound said. “We don’t have the resources we need to plan an attack yet.”
“Do we know where their base is?”
“No.”
“How come the bad guys always have the upper hand?” I asked, then I frowned. “Servo, I guess in this case.”
None of them had an answer. The focus was no longer on the game.
I decided to change the subject.
“Was it weird for you guys when I started dating Jazz?”
There were a few moments of silence before Arcee finally spoke.
“By the time you began your courtship, we all had a few years to come to terms with it,” she said, nudging my shoulder with hers. “You’d been around for a while by then. I didn’t quite expect it, but it wasn’t weird.”
“Humans and Cybertronians aren’t all that different, when you think about it,” Hound told me.
“Some humans aren’t even okay with people dating people who aren’t the same skin color,” I said. “I’m not sure if you guys would have had any similar… Thoughts. Since we aren’t the same species.”
God, I knew some people would have a problem with me dating Jazz if his holoform was actually him. I was about as pale as they come, and he simply wasn’t. I never had a problem with things like that personally, but even in my family I knew there’d be some tension about it.
“When you really think about it, Abby? We may be taller, stronger, heavier, live longer than humans-” Hound smirked and shook his head,”- but in terms of what counts? Do you notice a difference?”
“You guys, from what I’ve gathered, live for thousands and thousands of years. Longer than I can wrap my head around. Humans are lucky if we live to reach triple digits.”
“In a perfect world, a perfect universe, we’d all live for many vorns,” Arcee told me. “But right now? It’s hard to know who all is left. It is rare for us to offline of ‘old age’, as you’d say. There’s no guarantee of tomorrow.”
“You make it sound grim,” I said softly. I was now in last place.
She nodded. “It is. It’s the way it is now. Nobody knows when the war will come to an end. The fact that we’ve made it this far is a miracle.”
It was starting to make sense to me, but only vaguely. I didn’t know much about their war. I didn’t ask. I didn’t feel like it was any of my business.
“I’m sorry if I ruined the vibe, guys,” I said, laying the controller on my thigh. “This was supposed to be fun.”
“No, that was my bad,” Arcee said.
“Don’t be sorry, Abigail!” Bluestreak said after her. He smiled at me. “Would you like to play a different game? Since there’s more of us, we could play Cards Against Humanity (we can say it’s Cards Against Cybertronians if you’d prefer, don’t wanna offend you or anything), or we have Giant Jenga, or there’s always Uno-”
I shook my head. “No, I think I should probably go.”
Did they just remember to pack all of their games before the base was ambushed? Sheesh, he had way too many options. I doubted that was even the tip of the iceberg.
“Nonsense!” a voice boomed from the entryway. When I turned around, it was Sideswipe and his brother. “This party’s just getting started!”
Sunstreaker rolled his optics. “Why are you all in holoform?”
“I don’t think they have mech-sized controllers, Sunshine,” I said.
He scoffed. “Whatever.”
“What's on your agenda, Sides?” I asked, craning my neck to look at him. They were even taller when I was sitting down. It was a wonder I wasn’t scared of them anymore. One flick and I’d be gone.
“Heard through the grapevine that you were simply ‘dying from boredom’, huh?” he grinned. “Thought we’d come to help! What are we playing?”
The console could only handle four players at once, so we decided that we’d take turns. I was fine with just spectating, but Bluestreak simply insisted that I’d have a turn. I wasn’t going to argue.
They never treated me like I was less than them. To them, I was their equal, their friend. I just wish I could remember the rising action to that. I felt like a fraud.
By the time my stomach was screaming at me to get some sustenance, it was the last thing on my mind.
“You did what?”
“I did!” Bluestreak beamed at me. “He didn’t even see it coming!”
Mario Kart had turned into Mario Party, which then turned into exchanging war stories. I could tell they held back from saying some pretty dark stuff by the way they all looked at each other. I could have been upset by that, but then I realized I’d rather not know the gory details. I didn’t need to know.
“How is that even possible?” I asked, my eyes wide.
Bluestreak’s holoform puffed out its chest. “Well, you know, I just found a ramp and gunned it. Once I was over him, I transformed mid-air and just landed on his back.”
“And he just flew away?”
“Tried to,” he winked at me. “Didn’t last too long before we were both on the ground again. Screamer didn’t even remember what he was doing before that, he was so caught off guard.”
I snapped my fingers in thought. “And Screamer is… Starscream, right? Is he Megatron’s right hand mech?”
“Technically he’s their second in command,” Sunstreaker said flatly. “Air Commander.”
“Why don’t any of you guys fly? Can’t you just scan a plane and transform into it?”
I must have said something funny, based on the laughter that erupted.
“If only it were that simple, Abby,” Hound said, shaking his head. “We can’t just be anything we want.”
I pushed out my bottom lip. “But I thought everybody said you can be whatever you want when you grow up?”
“We have frame-types that we can’t exactly change.”
“Why not? Can’t you just give yourselves upgrades?”
“Yes, and no,” Arcee said. “Upgrades, sure, but our bodies have to be able to accept them. Some simply aren’t compatible. It’s why you won’t see me as a sports car, and why you won’t see Optimus as a bike.”
Optimus Prime as a bike. Now, there’s a thought.
“How did you choose what you wanted to be?” I asked them. “Here on Earth.”
Hound cleared his throat, though I figured it was for effect more than anything. “We were able to access the internet when we arrived. Some of us chose the first thing that would both work for our frames and blend in. Others took ‘hiding in plain sight’ in a different way.”
I could feel my face forming into a frown. “If you guys were supposed to be hiding in plain sight, why on Earth would you choose vehicle forms that cost hundreds of thousands of dollars?”
“As I said, it was left to interpretation for some.”
“I’ll say.” I couldn’t help but just stare at the twins. They were so obviously who I was referring to. Hound was some sort of Jeep, nothing too out of the ordinary. Arcee was a nice motorcycle, but nothing too extremely obvious. Bluestreak was a sort of two door coupe. But the twins?
Lamborghinis. The both of them. It was almost obnoxious.
No, it certainly was obnoxious.
“Like what you see?” Sideswipe grinned at me.
I squinted. “I think I’d rather trust Past Me’s judgment.”
“Oh, word?” he said, tilting his head. “All the way?”
“We’ll see,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m still deep in processing everything.”
“Don’t do that too long, you might have an aneurysm.”
“Do you even know what that is?”
“It’s bad.”
“Well, obviously,” I snorted. “Something to do with high blood pressure, which I’m not exactly known for having. Yet.”
“Stick with us much longer and you might! Though we’ve known you for seven years, and you haven’t gotten it yet!” Bluestreak quipped.
I patted him on the shoulder. “Wise words from Bluestreak, everybody.”
“Are you ever going to talk to your mates?”
The fact that the words came from Sunstreaker caught me off guard. I almost forgot that I needed to breathe. “What do you mean? They’re not my ‘mates’ or whatever.” I shuffled myself to my feet. There was no way he was bringing this up now. No fucking way.
“But I thought you said you were going to trust Past You’s judgment?” he hummed.
Damn. Got me there.
“Like I said,” I continued, waving my hand in the air. “Processing. Remember, that’s how we went from that to an aneurysm and then to high blood pressure.” Where was he going with this?
“Human, you have nothing but time to process, and yet here you are.”
And yet, here I was.
“You really are a tough nut to crack, Sunshine,” I said, looking up at him. He was the only one not using his holoform. “Why is it any of your business?”
The ridges above his optics rose. “Our second and third commanding officers’ mate? You believe something like that is none of my business?”
“Sunny-” Sideswipe started.
“Don’t call me that,” he snapped at his brother, then he turned to me once more. “Your indecisiveness will be the death of us all.”
“Sunstreaker!” Sideswipe’s holoform was gone in an instant, and now he stood by his brother. “This isn’t your place.” He spoke through gritted teeth.
My gaze fell to the floor. I didn’t know what to think. Was he right? Was I compromising everything by simply not knowing what I wanted, and becoming a distraction for their leaders? What even was I doing here? What was the point of all this?
“I think I’ve worn out my welcome here,” I said quietly.
“Abigail, don’t think-” Bluestreak started.
I raised my hand. “Chill out. I’m just going back to my quarters. Not like I know my way out of here, anyways.” I doubted I would make it as far as the exit without company, if I ever found it. Even if I did find it, I wouldn't survive a day out in the wilderness. I knew myself too well.
My footsteps weren’t the only echo I heard behind me as I walked back to my room. I didn’t care to turn around until I was turning into the small hallway containing my quarters. The light furthest in the hallway flickered, making a small hum as it did so. It hadn’t done that this morning.
“Abigail?” Jazz’s voice was gentle, even as it projected from so far behind me. His footsteps were the ones I heard, but they had been quiet, stealthy. Did he know what just happened?
I stopped, closing my eyes. “I don’t think I’m going to remember, Jazz. I’m sorry.” As the words left my lips, I could feel something catch in my throat. I tried to swallow, but it was difficult. Damn it.
He continued towards me, his large form towering over mine. “No, Sweetspark, I’m sorry.”
I shook my head, my eyes beginning to sting. “Why can’t this be easy?” I forced a smile. “Why can’t this be like those fairytales, with a happy ever after?”
The mech knelt down beside me, and now his face was only a few feet above mine. His visor dimmed slightly. “Who says it can’t be?”
I knocked on my head with a closed fist. “This damn thing,” I muttered. “Fucking useless brain.” Useless, useless, useless...
His metal hand caught my arm carefully. “What do you need? What can I do?”
I thought about it for a moment. “Jazz. Everyone here has accepted me from day one, it seems. Well, most everyone.”
“As it was before,” he hummed, rubbing his thumb softly against my arm. It tingled. “Who has not accepted you?”
“Not important,” I said quickly. I didn’t pull away from him. “That part is just fine, though I'm working out some kinks... It j-just kills me that… I mean, I fell in love, and I missed it… Do you have any idea how that feels? How sad it feels, how lonely it feels, how hollow I feel?”
“I don’t,” he said quietly.
“But we fell in love, I think,” I continued, trying to choose my words carefully. I took a deep breath. The lump in my throat made me choke. “And Prowl… Here I am, talking about myself, and I haven’t even begun to think about how this has affected the both of you.”
Sunstreaker might have been right. I was so focused on myself and how I felt. I couldn’t imagine how they were feeling. Were they feeling the loneliness too? They had each other, they were bonded for whoever's sake, God or Primus or whatever, they had each other, but if they loved me, were they feeling those emotions too?
“We’re strong mechs, Abigail, I promise you that,” Jazz told me. He continued to speak softly, gently, at a volume even I could barely here. He was closer to sitting down now, instead of kneeling, his forehead only a foot above mine, tilted down to look at me. “I waited for you for thousands of years. I can stand a little more.”
“And Prowl?”
“I have little influence on that end,” he admitted. “But not unlike mine and Prowl’s, your relationship with him remains a mystery to many.”
I wasn’t quite sure how I thought about that yet. It was a sort of complicated relationship. I knew that he cared for me, but he showed it in such unconventional ways. Some days, I wondered why or how he even found me tolerable. We weren’t very similar.
It was still hard to wrap my mind around. These two mechs, these two beautiful creatures, saw something in me. Something they cared for. It had to mean something.
“I’m a shell of the person you fell in love with, Jazz. I haven’t grown and learned from the experiences she has, Past Me has. So much seems to be the same, but I’m still different. I’m still Abigail, but I’m not the same. I can feel the chemistry between us, but it’s foreign to me, how it makes me feel, knowing you know so much more about me than I do.”
We waded in silence for a few moments. I hadn’t thought much about the words I said before I said them, but as I echoed them back to myself, I realized it was possibly the most truth I had spoken in a while. They were from my heart.
“I might have a suggestion.”
“I’m all ears.”
“What if we completely disregard the past? You don’t recall it anyways. Start from scratch.”
“Would that be weird?”
“Stranger things have happened.”
“Hopefully, it’ll take me less than five years to catch on, right?” My eyes weren’t stinging anymore, at least not as badly. I blinked a few times before looking back up at him. “Start from scratch. You’ll have the upper-hand. But I guess that’s not really an issue.” If he was going to woo me, it didn’t hurt to know what he was doing. It wasn’t like I could expect him to just forget the details like that.
I just hoped he wouldn’t use it against me. Surely, he wouldn’t think of that.
He shrugged, but he was smiling now. “Always did, Sweetspark.”
“You know,” I started, jabbing him in the shoulder with a finger, “I was never a fan of power imbalances.”
“Trust me, we know,” he laughed. It made my heart soar. “What do you say?”
I took a small step back. “I think this is something I can get behind.But I want the whole kit and caboodle. Do you think you can make me fall head over heels again?”
Jazz began to stand up again. “Hopefully it will be for the last time.”
You and me both, dude. I wasn’t sure if I could go through this again.
The Life {and Death} of Abigail Parker, Chapter 16
I cried for about half an hour. Compared to the rest of the drive, it was just a blink of time, but once I started I couldn’t stop.
Before I started, though, I could feel it coming. I didn’t cry often, but I knew when the feeling was sneaking up on me.
“Prowl?”
“Yes?”
“This means absolutely nothing, and don’t you dare look into it, but I’m going to have a little cry session.”
“Would you like me to deactivate my holoform?”
I wasn’t about to say no. Even when I knew he could ‘see’ me still, it put me at ease just the littlest bit knowing he wouldn’t be looking at me with eyes.
The glove box at my knees popped open by itself. It was deeper than I expected it to be, with a few side compartments inside. I wanted to question it right then, but simply grabbed the unopened box of tissues and shut it.
Then, I had my cry.
It all happened for me. It happened, in my life, and I missed all of it. I’d never be able to relive those moments, even if I did end up remembering them somehow. It wasn’t the same.
I was grieving for my false memories. But I was also grieving for the ones I had lost, possibly forever.
In my false life, I never married. I hardly dated. In my lost life, I not only dated, but I courted. Two. I was engaged, somehow.
And I missed it.
At some point, Prowl had explained that the relationship between me, him, and Jazz was on pause, in a way. They were not going to push me, and what happened next would be up to me. It was my decision. There was no rush in making it.
All things considered, my relationship between them was on the back-burner. They had just been ambushed by the Decepticons. Love wasn’t going to be top priority, even if it was now on the forefront of my mind.
The silence I sat through now wasn’t uncomfortable. I was too in my head to properly carry a conversation.
“How far?” I finally asked. “You can turn your holoform back on now, if you want.”
His human-like form appeared once more in the driver’s seat in an instant. “Eighteen hours to go, if I keep up this pace.”
“It probably helps that you’re a police cruiser, huh?”
“It might.”
“At least you’re not a police officer. I don’t have the best past with those.”
“I was an Enforcer before the war.”
“... Somehow, that sounds worse than a police officer. No offense.”
“More or less,” he replied with a small laugh. “I’m well aware of your trouble with authority. It did not hinder your relationship with me.”
“Probably due to the fact that it was millions of years ago.”
“I am still a military strategist. According to your rank, I am your superior.”
I snorted. “That doesn’t sound like it flies with me.”
“No, it does not.”
“I have a rank?”
“It is more of a formality than anything,” he told me. “For NEST’s benefit. It justifies your clearance and permissions to fraternize.”
“Did I have a title?” That excited me more than I realized.
Prowl shook his head. “But you often claimed that you were Number 5. I assume it was a reference to one of your favorite movies, Short Circuit, and the addition of Jazz and I’s ranks.”
If I remembered correctly, Jazz was third, and Prowl was second. I wasn’t very original.
“I do love that movie.”
“We are aware. You held a movie night centered around it.”
“I sure stayed busy with you guys.”
“That,” he said, “you did.”
“Maybe I need to get high again to jump-start the new turning point in my life.”
“That is considered one option. Jazz is in full support.”
“Glad to hear it, but I’m mostly joking,” I laughed. “Mostly. We’ll see.”
Why did it not surprise me that Jazz was in favor of me smoking weed?
I took a short nap after that. When I woke up a few hours later, it was from Prowl gently nudging me. We were at a gas station.
Oh, I had never been more relieved to release my bladder. I didn’t even realize I had to go.
Prowl didn’t need to fuel, at least not the kind that was available, but I did. He had water bottles and protein bars in the glove box as well, but he had handed me a credit card and told me to get what I wanted.
Nobody had ever done that to me before. I was like a little kid in there.
“You will have to relieve yourself again if you drink all of that.”
“I can pace myself,” I assured him. “It’s just two bottles.”
“Of your favorite liquid. Abigail?”
“I promise.”
“... Alright. We won’t be able to stop again for ten hours.”
“Where are we, anyway?”
“We are in northern Iowa.”
Well, that explained all of the fields.
Prowl had explained to me that their communicators were off. Radio silence. Everybody supposedly knew where to go and how to get there. I imagined they were able to figure out routes ahead of time, maybe even downloading them. It surely seemed that Prowl could figure his way out of anywhere.
Even when I distracted him with my nonsense.
“It’s so nice that the rest of the world is learning to appreciate the goodness that is blue raspberry.”
“You managed to skew the local grocery store’s purchasing statistics with that beverage.”
“No shit?”
“None.”
“Forgotten-me sounds like a boss,” I noted, placing my almost-empty bottle in the cupholder beside me. “No wonder you fell for her.”
That earned me a chuckle, but nothing more.
“Prowl? I know you said that it’s all radio silence and whatnot, but do you know if-?”
“Jazz is not far behind us, Abigail. We can still communicate through our bond.”
Must be nice.
“What’s it like, to be bonded?” I asked. “I know what it is and what it means, kind of.”
“When you are sparkbonded with someone, you are never alone. You can feel them inside of you, feel how they feel, and communicate without a trace.”
“That’s so much more romantic than marriage.”
“You always said as much.”
I decided not to ask what changed my mind. According to him, I had been engaged to both of them.
Before I knew it, Prowl was pulling off to a rest stop, even though he had just said we weren’t stopping for hours.
“What’s going on?” I asked him.
“This will be our last stop before we reach our destination. Holding your bladder could lead to-”
I stopped him before he could finish. “Yeah, yeah. Probably a good idea.” I had already finished both of my beverages. Whoops.
I had considered buying something from the vending machine on my way out, but I decided against it. I still had a few snacks and a full bottle of water. I’d survive until we made it.
Prowl’s holoform was pacing in front of his altmode when I was walking out. I hadn’t noticed this before, but he was armed. Their real forms held hidden weapons, I knew that well, but it didn’t occur to me that they might arm their holoforms as well.
“Penny for your thoughts?” I asked him once I had made it over. The lot we were parked in was dark, only barely lit by the few street lights. Most of them were burnt out. Only one light had worked in the bathroom. It was nothing fancy.
“Are you ready?” Prowl asked me, clearly avoiding my question.
I cleared my throat. “Are you?”
“I am.”
We just looked at each other for a few seconds. Neither of us said anything. We were a few feet from each other.
Why did I want to hug him?
Before I could reconsider the impulse, I had closed the gap between us. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, burying my face in his chest.
For a split second, he didn’t move. As I was starting to regret acting on that impulse, I felt his arms wrap around my waist.
My life was so insane now. But I decided that I didn’t want it any other way. I would get through this, one way or another, and I was going to enjoy it. If I didn’t, what was even the point?
-
“Abigail, wake up. We’re arriving soon.”
“Oh, shit,” I cursed, trying to bury myself deeper in the seat. “Five more minutes?”
“You may want to run a comb through your hair.”
“That so?” I grumbled. “What, is there one in your glovebox?”
As if on cue, the glove box opened. Right in the middle was a white comb that I swore hadn’t been there before.
“Don’t tell me you guys are magical, too,” I said. The comb was already catching on the ends of my hair more than I hoped. “How much do you keep in there, anyway?”
“My glove box is linked to my sub-space.”
“That sounds convenient.”
“Yes.”
We were really learning how to have a conversation together, see. Good, thorough, meaningful conversations.
I had to readjust the seat from its reclined position. Once I did, I managed to clear through the rest of the tangles in my hair. I flipped the visor down to look at myself in the mirror.
“Prowl, be honest with me. How do I look?”
“You look like you’ve been through a Decepticon attack and a two day long road trip.”
I frowned at myself in the reflection. “Aw, do I really?”
Sure, it was technically correct. As he usually was. Why had I wanted a different answer?
“I guess that’s to be expected,” I said finally, flipping the visor back. “This new base should have a water heater, right? That’s probably standard.”
“I’m not sure.”
My fingers were crossed so hard for that. I desperately needed a hot shower, both mentally and physically.
I hadn’t even realized we were approaching the base until we were inside of it. One second, Prowl was driving off road towards a mountain. The next, we had passed through the mountain somehow, and were approaching a large metal door.
The base was camouflaged. Wicked.
“We’re not the first ones, are we?”
“No.”
Once we passed through the metal door, we were in a large curved hallway. It led to a large hangar, where I quickly saw that Prowl was correct. We weren’t the first ones, not by a long shot.
The easiest bot to see was Optimus, he was just a little taller than the others. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker stood out as well, as they always did somehow. Chromia. Hound. There were many others I couldn’t quite distinguish from that far.
Jazz wasn’t here yet. He had been behind us a ways.
Next thing I knew, I was on Prowl’s shoulder and at optic level of everybody. It felt good to be up there. I wasn’t afraid to fall.
I didn’t see any of my military friends, or any other humans for that matter.
“- just like I said, they were waiting for the opportune moment,” Mirage said. “It had been in the works for a while. They knew what they were doing.”
“The attack at the park must have been a distraction,” Ironhide said. “It can’t be a coincidence that they decided to attack the base just a breem later.”
“Whatever the case, evacuation was a success. There were no casualties, human or Autobot,” Optimus said. His voice boomed.
It put me at ease to know nobody died. It would have been better if I knew nobody got injured, but I couldn’t kid myself. Those Decepticons were dangerous, and they didn’t care about destruction.
“Abigail, how are ya? Doin’ okay?”
“Jazz!” My face lit up. I wasn’t mad at him anymore, I couldn’t be. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
Jazz was a little shorter than Prowl, and I hadn’t realized it until now. I was almost taller than him just by sitting on Prowl’s shoulder.
“I’m just that good, huh?”
Some of the other Autobots around us were speaking, but I couldn’t have cared less about their conversations. I was otherwise occupied.
“Are you upset with me?” I asked him quietly.
Jazz quickly shook his head. “Primus, Abigail, why would I be upset with you? I was worried you’d be upset with me. With us.”
I did have a right to be upset. But so did he. He did what he thought was best, and who could have predicted this outcome? Certainly not me. He couldn’t have known. It wasn’t fair to either of us.
Jazz lowered his helm, almost like he was bowing to me. I placed my hands on it, also steadying myself in the process. “I’m not upset anymore,” I mumbled. “I think I’ve passed that by now.”
“In a good way or bad way?”
“In a progress way,” I clarified. “I hope.”
When Jazz looked up again, my hands fell to his cheeks. His metal cheeks. My hands were so small even compared to them. The warm metal felt nice against my skin.
“Whatever ya need, Abster, and ya got it,” Jazz told me. His voice was softer now. “Promise.”
-
The new base was cold, no matter where I went. It was still summer, and I hadn’t really prepared for this. I wasn’t even sure where I kept my colder weather clothes at my house.
“We didn’t do any time traveling on our way here, right?”
“No, but we are high up in the mountains,” Prowl had told me. “Did you not notice the snow?”
I hadn’t. “I might’ve been too concerned with the fact that we were driving straight into a mountain.”
It was only when he had shown me to my quarters that I realized how much I underestimated the preparedness of the Autobots.
‘Condo’ would have been a better description than ‘suite’ here. The ceilings were higher, the rooms were bigger, and there were more of them to explore than my last living area. The cupboards were already stocked, as was the fridge. There was an entire shelf of blue raspberry soda in there. Blue raspberry flavored vodka was in the freezer.
There was a note on the kitchen island.
Hope it’s enough! - Hound
I’d have to thank him later.
It was more than enough. There were even clothes I recognized hanging in the closet.
I had an ensuite bathroom.
Yeah, this was alright.
I spent the night by myself. Jazz had sent me a message that popped up on my television, basically telling me that they were all on duty until further notice, and to try to make myself at home.
By ten, I was sitting on the couch in the living room, flipping through Netflix. I was thankful they somehow got internet services here in the middle of Nowhere, Canada. There was a white mug filled with hot chocolate next to me on the end table.
It was warmer in my quarters than it was out in the hallway, but not by much. I assumed some of it was the heat from my hot shower. There was still steam in the bathroom. I had mentally made a goal to just stay in the shower until the water started to run cold, but after thirty minutes, I had given up. My skin was still a little pink and wrinkly.
I went to bed earlier than usual that night. For a while, I just sat up in my bed with my lamp turned on next to me. I took in the eerie silence that surrounded me. The walls were soundproof. I finally decided to load up Spotify on the television in the living room for soft noise, and I kept my bedroom door open so I could hear it.
I could barely get my head wrapped around this whole thing. But I had made it through all of my bad days before, and I was going to make it through this now. I was going to just roll with it.
I left Prowl’s office angry, but not in the way I had expected. I wasn’t angry because I was being held responsible for my actions, that I understood completely. What I was angry about caught me totally off guard.
In the midst of my rage, I had seen something in Prowl’s eyes. Not even his holoform could hide his emotions from his eyes, at least not in that split second when I was bellowing how I had messed up and what it meant to me. What I saw in his eyes in that moment was the entire reason I continued to fight myself to stay with the Autobots.
What I saw in Prowl’s eyes was what I saw more commonly with Jazz, at least when I could see his eyes.
In my fit of rage, I saw Prowl’s walls completely drop. In a split second, I saw him not as Prowl, but as a being that truly saw me and my experience. For a fraction of a moment, Prowl saw me not as a mess, but as someone who was trying, and failing, and trying anyway.
I hated that in my fit of rage, how Prowl looked at me made me understand exactly why I fell in love with him in the first place.
The Life {and Death} of Abigail Parker, Chapter 15
“Prowl? Where are we?”
“Quiet, please, Abigail.”
I pressed my lips together. If I wasn’t so tense, my entire body would have been trembling in the seat.
Timing, it seemed, was not on our side.
It had been such a blur. One second, I was breaking down in front of my supposed lovers. The next, I was in Prowl’s altmode on a highway I didn’t know. But we were going North-East, the opposite direction of the base.
I doubted we would go back now.
I pressed my cheek against the cool glass window. In the side mirror, I could see that my eyes were bloodshot. My throat burned, either from my shouting at Jazz and Prowl or from the screaming that followed.
It had been my second time seeing a Decepticon for the first time. I couldn’t have imagined it going any worse.
“They were waiting for us, Abigail. They were watching. How we didn’t pick up their energy signatures, I don’t know. But we are going to be okay. You are safe.”
I am safe. Jazz had said that to me many times. It had been easy to believe him.
But with Prowl, it wasn’t just a promise. It was a fact.
“How long do you think they were waiting for that moment?”
“I suspect they’ve been waiting since April to strike. It had been unwise for us to leave the base all together.”
“Did they attack the base, too?”
“Yes.”
I shivered. “Any… Casualties?” I gulped.
“I don’t know.”
“Are you lying to me?” Again? I internally added.
“There were no Autobot casualties. I’m not sure about the humans.”
My fingers were crossed for them. Even if I didn’t remember their names.
“Is this my fault?”
“No,” he said sternly. “It is not your fault.”
I was silent again.
One minute, I was crying and screaming at them. I don’t know what I suspected they were keeping from me, but it wasn’t that. Being in a relationship with not only one, but two of them? At the same time?
I could barely handle my own needs, let alone the needs of two others.
Had Prowl said that Jazz was trying to court me for five years?
This is a lot more than I expected.
“This was not how we hoped you would find out, Abigail. I give you my deepest condolences.”
“What was the best case scenario here?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
His holoform wore a serious expression. “Best case, you would have gotten your memories back by now. You wouldn’t have had to find out this way. Or, if you did not remember, we would let it be as it would.”
“What do you mean?”
“I did not plan on pressuring you into something you didn’t want.”
Ah.
“Sounds like it was serious,” I said quietly. I closed my eyes. “Man, I had two- boyfriends? Partners?”
He hmphed. “Something like that.”
“Why?”
Prowl blinked at me, his eyes off the road. It didn’t make me feel as uneasy as I thought it would. “Why?” he repeated.
I shrugged. “I guess I’m just trying to understand. You guys can have sparkmates, whatever your version of marriage is- but if you had each other, why me, too?”
He was quiet for a few seconds. “It was not something Jazz and I had on our ‘Bucket List’, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
I snorted. “Duh, I’m not sure anybody has ‘threesome with an alien race’ on their bucket list. At least, probably not.”
“Is that what you believe this was?”
“No,” I shook my head. “But thinking of it like that helps right now.” Maybe. Maybe not.
The Decepticons had jumped us at the park, right in the middle of my breakdown. I hadn’t gotten to finish before I was ushered away. Something told me that the bench we had been sitting at wouldn’t be there next time.
Poor Sarah Wiggins. Maybe I’d have to memorialize her in some way, something that wouldn’t get damaged nor destroyed by the Decepticons.
“Jazz and I have been bonded since before your kind knew how to walk on two legs. Hundreds of thousands of your human years. This civil war began when your planet was still young. As I’m sure you know by now, our race is not so unlike humans in the ways of affection and intimacy.”
I couldn’t help but squirm a little in my seat, but I didn’t say anything, only nodding. I rested my cheek against the window again and closed my eyes.
“It did not surprise me when Jazz approached me about you.”
“Had you guys ever done anything like this before?” I asked.
“No, it had not come up. But I could feel through our bond how you made him feel. It wasn’t unlike how he had felt about me so long ago.”
“Did that make you upset?”
“No. We had never discussed being open to something like this, but we both knew it was never off the table.”
When I didn’t say anything, he kept going.
“That was in 2015, the year you joined us. When Ratchet had cleared you from your injuries, you just didn’t want to leave. You had made fast friends with many of my comrades. Morale was somehow rising exponentially, even among our human allies. When Jazz approached me, I decided to put in a good word for you. That’s when you got your suite on base.”
Prowl was the reason I could live there?
“Even when you eventually moved out, the suite stayed as you put it. And not a month went by where you didn’t use it at least once, if not for many nights at a time. Jazz was well into his attempts to court you, but it would be years until you realized what was happening. You were best friends.”
“It took me years to realize Jazz was hitting on me?” I gaped. Was I really that dense?
“It has taken you three months to even consider the possibility that the life you live now is your reality.”
“Touché. Go on.”
“Once you came to your senses, it wasn’t long before you were official. Jazz was quite pleased with himself. At this time, Abigail, you were not in a relationship with me,” he added.
I could feel my forehead wrinkle in thought. So I was dating Jazz, and Jazz was bonded with Prowl, and Prowl was ‘just friends’ with me?
“We did have a discussion about it,” he went on. “You did not want to hurt my feelings, but you had already decided to court Jazz, not me. I was pleased with that. If something were in the cards for us, there would be no need to rush.”
Prowl wasn’t one to beat around the bush, I knew that much about him. But the way he spoke to me then… I could just tell he was trying to be gentle. I wasn’t sure if it made me feel better or if it made me feel like he was patronizing me.
I chose to believe it was in good faith. It had to be.
He cleared his throat. “It wouldn’t last that way. At the beginning of this year, both you and Jazz approached me about becoming an ‘exclusive triad’. I don’t think I need to go into many details about that.”
“This is a lot to take in,” I breathed.
“I know it is, Abigail, but we need you to trust us again. My decision to keep this from you broke it.”
I scoffed. “So you decided this was the right course of action? Some boyfriend you were.”
“Some fiancé I was.”
Wait. Fiancé?
“Prowl, you can’t just be dropping this on me like this. Did you just decide to omit this from your slideshow? Is that why I wasn’t on it?”
“Much information had to be omitted,” he replied. “We did not want to overwhelm you, in your condition.”
“I’m not sure if me trying to kill myself coming to my own conclusions was the better option.”
I could feel his hand shift to my knee. But it wasn’t a grab, and I could barely feel it.
“I will forever regret that decision, Abigail. I’m sorry.”
The way he said my name now was different. There was something behind it.
“How stupid would it be if I wake up tomorrow and remember everything?” I forced myself to laugh. I didn’t move my leg away from his touch.
“We can cross that bridge when we get there. I hope that you can let us help you.”
At the very least, I knew how they felt about me now. They truly cared for me, whether they showed it in appropriate ways or not. I just didn’t know how I felt about them yet.
But if Jazz had truly been that patient with me, I had no doubts they would be the same way now. I didn’t have to decide how I felt right then.
“I don’t remember doing much dating,” I said quietly. “Much less more than one person at once. I guess I never considered polyamory.”
“It isn’t uncommon for our race,” he told me. “Jazz and myself had many conversations based around boundaries, some of those included you. You were hesitant at first.”
“But that didn’t stop me?”
“You were keeping an open mind, as we all were. While not completely uncommon on our planet, there has been less of a focus on relationships in general since the war. Even less, relationships involving more than a couple.”
“That was a bold decision, from me.”
“You often said that you enjoyed the surprises of life.”
“One of my biggest fears is the unknown.”
His hand was fully resting on top of my thigh now. “Another bridge we must cross. It seems that such a pivotal decision in your young adult life was altered.”
“The decision to quit school?”
“And what brought you to that point, Abigail. It wasn’t just some random thought you had one morning.”
“Do you know what happened?”
“Are you ready to hear it?”
~
January 2015
“You aren’t happy, Abigail.”
“Oh, yeah? Who’s to say I’m not?”
“Just look at yourself.”
I scoffed at my computer screen. My mother was as persistent as ever, even from fifty miles away. “What makes you think I’m unhappy?”
“You don’t smile like you used to, Abby. I just know you’re unhappy.”
“Why should I be unhappy?” I asked. “I’m doing everything right. I’m doing well at my internship, I have all of my credits lined up to graduate.”
“You are too young to be putting off the rest of your life.”
I never wanted to believe my mother was right, even when I knew she was. Ever since I had been a little girl, she had expectations for me. I always met them. Until I didn’t.
After high school, I had taken a year off to travel. I wasn’t worried about falling behind in classes, I already had a few credits thanks to courses in high school rolling over, and I decided to travel the country with my friends.
It had been some of the best months of my life.
The fall the following year, I went to school, just like I had promised. Now, I was just months from graduating.
But I wasn’t excited.
“This can’t be it.”
“You aren’t happy. How many times do I have to tell you?”
“At least one more,” I grumbled. “But I can’t just throw it all away. I have to see it through. I’ve never been a quitter.”
Mom’s expectations for me changed after my gap year. Until then, she pushed me harder than my older sister to seek a higher education for a guaranteed good future. My sister got her degree, and I was going to get mine.
Even if Mom didn’t believe I could do it, I would. I was going to finish college with honors, and land a good job by next fall. I had to.
“If you run yourself to the ground like that, I won’t stop you. I’ll be here to help if you need it.”
Confusing woman.
-
February 2015
“Are you sure it’s safe?”
“Come on, Abby, one won’t kill you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I’ve had hundreds, and I’m still here. I’m fine!”
“That’s debatable,” I replied.
Madison just grinned at me. “I can’t believe you finally gave in! Who says peer pressure doesn’t work on you?”
“You said it can help me relax,” I pointed out. I hadn’t been able to shake my mom’s words. “So it’s necessary.”
I had never tried drugs before. I wasn’t a huge fan of alcohol, either. It just never interested me, to be so willingly out of control of my body. I liked to be in control. Predicting what would happen based on my words, my actions, and I was good at it.
But I just couldn’t get those words out of my head. I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t unhappy, but my mom said so. As much as I hated to admit it, she was usually right.
I needed a change of perspective. Hence the cannabis.
I held the drag in my lungs for as long as I could before coughing out a small cloud of smoke. It was so dry.
“Here, wait a few minutes before you take another hit,” Madison instructed me. She handed me a bottle of water. “Don’t need you getting blasted on your first go. Hand it over.”
I carefully transferred the lit joint from my fingers to hers.
“I’ve known you since freshman year, Parker. Why the sudden change of heart?”
“My mother. What else?” I said, trying not to cough too badly between words. “She thinks I’m unhappy.”
“How unhappy could you be? You’re smoking a doob with me!”
“I don’t feel particularly unhappy,” I responded. My head felt like it was full of helium. “What am I doing wrong?”
“Well, for starters, why are you unhappy doing what you’re doing now? Didn’t you want this?”
I nodded. “Sure, I did. A stable future. I don’t want to go through life unsure of if my bills are going to be paid, if I’m going to eat dinner, if I’m-”
“You really think you’d let yourself get to that point?” Madison laughed at me. As she exhaled, wisps of smoke left her lips. “Not so.”
“I feel like I keep waiting for my life to start, so I can enjoy it.”
“You’ve put so much thought into your great life plan that you forgot the most important part.”
I looked at her. “What is that?”
“You forgot that you need to live. Not just survive.”
I grabbed the joint from her. “And how do you suppose I do that?”
~
“You tied up all of your loose ends,” Prowl continued. “And you left.”
“I got high with a friend and decided it was a good idea to quit school?” I gaped. Was I even the same person?
“No, but that conversation - according to you - was the turning point. You knew what you did not want, and you left to find out what you did.”
“And I became an events coordinator for you guys?” I questioned him, my brows raised.
“You became our friend. And you gave us one more thing worth fighting for.”
Silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable this time.
I reached over to him. “Thanks, Prowl. I know I can be… Difficult sometimes, especially lately. But I’m trying. And I’m going to try harder now, at least when I can.”
“That is acceptable.”
That definitely sounded like Prowl.
“What now? Since we can’t go back.”
“Now,” he started, “we switch gears. There is a base in Canada we will use from now on, far from civilization. We will meet the rest of the Autobots there.”
“And Jazz?”
“He will be meeting us there. We split up to distract the Decepticons and keep them from following.”
Another base to figure out my way around. Splendid.
The Life {and Death} of Abigail Parker, Chapter 14
Alien robots that love. Not only alien robots that love, but their equivalent of marriage was something far more permanent and romantic, in my humble opinion. It was beautiful. Marriage was just a signed piece of paper, and not something I ever thought would happen to me in my lifetime. The one that wasn’t real, at least.
Maybe I thought differently here.
Chromia hadn’t gone into any of the gory or explicit details of how they loved, and I had a feeling it was none of my business anyway. She did explain a bit about their sparks, and how those can come into play when showing love and affection.
She made only a few references about herself and Ironhide, mostly about how they came to be a pair. They had worked together in the field, in the beginning of the war so long ago. They came to be friends, but they hated each other at first. Ironhide finally asked her out when he was afraid she had offlined in battle. He couldn’t find her, and instead of anything else, he was worried. That’s how he knew.
Chromia made it sound much more romantic than that, but I digress.
“Okay, okay, okay! Abigail, truth or dare?” Bluestreak asked me.
“Um,” I hummed, tapping on my chin mostly for theatrical purposes. “Truth!”
“Have you ever been arrested?”
Damn, that was a good one. “Once, but I wasn’t booked. He let me go after a stern talking to.”
“What in Primus’ name for?”
I grinned. “I had a little problem with authority when I was younger. Probably just before I was legally an adult, I was mouthing off.”
Oh, I had been lucky he didn’t take me to the station. He had really wanted to, but I knew my rights. That just pissed the guy off more. Good times.
“Hmmm, okay!” I laughed. I was trying to figure out who to pick next. Bluestreak just went, so definitely not him. Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, First Aid, Arcee, Chromia, Hound, Prowl- “Prowl! Truth or dare?”
The mech paused. “Truth.”
Hmm. Truth. “What is your opinion on inter-species relationships?”
Side chatter that I didn’t know I was listening to stopped. Everybody stopped. Everyone was silent now, looking between me and Prowl.
I was almost ready to retract my question when Prowl began to answer.
“They can certainly be positive, given the right circumstances. That is a broad question.”
“Humans and Cybertronians.”
He paused this time before continuing. “Ah, yes. The relationship between a Cybertronian and a human is not unlike the relationship between two Cybertronians. Does that answer your question?”
“Yes.” I decided it was good enough for me. “Your turn!”
The side-chatter continued like normal after that. I couldn’t quite figure out what pushed me to ask him that question, but his answer put me at ease. I didn’t understand it.
It was like everything else in my life now. So polar opposite, or just different enough to throw me off, or just like I remembered. I didn’t understand.
But that was okay. I was going to be okay. I didn’t know what was going to happen now, or what my future looked like, but that was okay. I would be okay.
I was trying my best to accept that. Some days were easier than others.
“Abby, are you still with us?”
“Hm?” I was abruptly taken from my thoughts. “Yeah, sorry. I was just in my head.”
“I’d be worried if you weren’t,” Chromia replied, and I swore I saw her wink. “What’s ticking in that brain of yours?”
“I know we just had that party last week and all, but it got me thinking. I’m either going to remember stuff that happened before, or I’m not. But that shouldn’t stop me from trying to make new memories with you guys, right?”
Her face lit up. “That’s the spirit, girl.”
“What do you have in mind, Abigail?” Prowl asked me.
I just shrugged. “Haven’t thought that far yet. Nothing too strenuous. What other kinds of things did I put together before?” Although I didn’t want to just copy the past, it wouldn’t hurt to get some inspiration.
“Movie marathons, themed dinners,” Hound began.
“Karaoke night,” Sideswipe added.
“Game night was pretty poppin’,” Jazz said.
“Did we ever do anything outside of here? Outside the base?” I asked them.
~
That had, apparently, been enough to warrant a field trip. None of them told me where we were going. All I knew was that it was outside the boundaries of the base. I couldn’t have been more thrilled.
The base was huge, and I still got lost in there, but it was still just that. A base. It was hard to stay there all the time, surrounded by familiar and unfamiliar.
“Are we there yet?”
“Almost, Abster, almost,” Jazz chuckled at me. His holoform was on, and it certainly looked like he was driving. I didn’t know if his holoform was actually driving, or just going through the motions.
“Is it a surprise? You know I don’t-”
“Ya don’t like knowing about surprises, but if they’re complete surprises, ya don’t mind. I know ya, Abigail. We aren’t too far.”
The way he spoke to me was oddly calming. I knew I was safe with them. I was safer with them than I would be on my own. But he seemed to calm something inside me that I didn’t know existed.
I relaxed in my seat. “Have you ever been in love, Jazz?”
The engine seemed to sputter. “What now?”
“What, like I’ve never asked you that before?” I laughed, patting the side of the seat. “You can tell me. You said we were really close friends, right? We’ve probably talked about this before.”
“Last time, took ya a year to start askin’ questions like that,” he said through what sounded like a forced laugh. “What piques your interest now?”
“I’m just curious is all.”
“Yes, I have been in love before.”
“Do I know them?”
“Ya do know them.”
“Am I allowed any more questions?”
“Nope, we’re here!”
We had arrived at some sort of nature park. The mix of high tech, expensive cars and motorbikes stood out in the landscaping of soft green grass, strong oak trees that would tower over even Optimus Prime, and an assortment of summer flowers and floral weeds.
I took in the deepest breath I could, and closed my eyes. The sun cast a layer of heat on my cheeks, but I didn’t mind, even though I had forgotten sunscreen.
It felt marvelous.
“Are there any trails here?” I asked.
Arcee’s holoform gestured in a few different directions. “There’s a couple, they’re all about the same distance.”
“Where should we go?”
Not too far in the distance was a large childrens’ playground. There were a few sets of swings, monkeybars, and a few neon colored slides. That was an option.
Though, I wasn’t sure if our group hanging around a playground was the best idea.
I grabbed on to Jazz’s arm and began to usher him in the direction I wanted to go. “Come on, let’s go this way!”
~
“This feels disturbingly familiar.”
Prowl was on one side of me, and Jazz was on the other. About half an hour ago, we had decided to split up into groups to explore. We had agreed to meet back by the ‘cars’ if we found anything interesting.
“What makes you say that, Abigail?” Prowl asked me.
“It just…” I stopped, taking in another deep breath. “I know I’ve been here before. I can feel it.”
“Yes, ya’ve been here before,” Jazz told me. “With us.”
“What was I doing here?”
“Would you like the answer to your question, or would you like to make new memories here, Abigail?”
“Just a general summary is fine, I don’t need details.”
Jazz and Prowl looked at each other before Jazz finally said something. “This was your favorite place to visit when ya first came here, Abs.”
It was where I found the sliver.
“Where did I find it?” I asked quickly, looking around. “If I just see it, I might just-”
About fifty feet ahead of us was a wooden bench. I couldn’t make out the engravings along the back of it from here, but somehow I knew what it said anyway.
“In Memory of Sarah Wiggins,” I mumbled to myself. I broke out into a jog to get a closer look at the bench. How did I know what it said?
My fingers traced the engraving, which had been burned into the wood. The stain must have covered the burn mark, the shade was just slightly darker, and something told me it wasn’t done that way on purpose.
I walked around to the other side of the bench.
There was a crack as big as my arm running through the back and top edge of the seat, the stain had altered the color of that as well. It was darker, like it had been burnt as well.
“If something happened here, why didn’t they just replace the bench?” I mumbled to myself, my fingertips lingering on the mark behind the seat.
The mechs behind me were silent.
“No, this isn’t where I found it,” I said quietly. “This is where they found me. The Decepticons.”
Part of me knew this from what Jazz had told me, but another part just recognized this place. This spot. This bench. It was too familiar to look at with my own eyes.
I kept going. “Mirage, Bluestreak, this is where they found me. This is where the Decepticons found me.”
My eyes shot to the trees surrounding us. There were a few that were obviously missing branches, but not recently. They were old wounds.
“I know, I know they just wanted that piece of the AllSpark,” I began to mumble again. “But why would they mess with me now? What good am I to them now?”
I looked back at Jazz and Prowl. They were standing shoulder-to-shoulder, just watching me, not saying anything. I blinked.
It just didn’t make sense. Why was I important enough to screw with? It was no random attack for the AllSpark, and I was sure it was no random attack when they messed with my brain. There was no way. Such coincidences didn’t exist.
Unless they knew how close I was to the Autobots. I still didn’t know quite how close.
“What does ‘sweetspark’ mean?” I asked them.
It took a few seconds, but Prowl answered. “It can be equated to ‘sweetheart’, an endearing term for those close to us.”
“How close?”
Jazz’s chin was slowly beginning to tilt down, but I still couldn’t see his eyes over the rim of his sunglasses. “Is this because I call ya Sweetspark?”
“Maybe,” I shrugged. “I don’t know. I was just wondering.”
Mirage had been so open with me, but yet so conservative with what he shared and how he shared it. I was beginning to notice the same with Prowl and Jazz.
“Was I ever more than… ‘Just friends’ with any of you?” By the time the words had escaped my lips, my stomach was doing somersaults. They weren’t going to tell me anyway.
That had to be it. It was the best explanation.
“Abigail, I am not going to confirm nor deny your inquisition. It will do us no good.”
“I’m not a child, Prowl, I can handle the truth. I can handle what happened.”
“Can ya? Ya just declared that ya wanted new memories, not old ones.”
Damn it, he was right. Of course he was.
“Using my words against me just isn’t fair,” I said through my teeth. “But, I guess none of this is. I just have to roll with it.”
I looked down at the bench again. I didn’t look away. When my eyes began to sting, I looked up at the sky until I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore.
“In my-” I started, but I had to clear my throat before I could start again. “In my false life, I never married. I never dated. I was too focused on success. My success. I had a few friends, but looking back, they never felt like real friends. They were just people I spent time with outside of work to pass the time.”
When I sat in the middle of the bench, Prowl took a seat on one side of me, and Jazz on the other.
“I don’t remember pursuing anybody. I didn’t look forward to the weekends. The highlight of my day was when I got to clock into work. How sad is that?” I shook my head. I could feel tears begin to roll down my cheeks. “It sucks ass that it wasn’t really like that, and I just can’t fucking remember any of it.”
I sniffled, and wiped my cheek with the corner of my jacket. “This is an amazing life I had here with everybody, so many amazing experiences, and I missed them. I miss them.”
Jazz was rubbing my back now. “Shh, it’s okay, Abs. Ya can let it out.”
“And to top it all off? I might’ve been in love here. But I don’t even know that.”
“If it is meant to be, it will be again, Abigail.”
“How could you-”
Before I could realize it, I had wiped my eyes, and was now standing in front of the sitting holoforms on the bench. I pointed at Jazz. “You. You have a sparkmate.” I switched to pointing at Prowl. “As do you. I just know it. I just-” My hand popped over my mouth. My eyes were wide.
I took a step back. “We aren’t just friends, we- we-”
“This is not how she needs to be finding out, Jazz-” Prowl started.
I was starting to get hysterical. “Did I break you guys up? Is something going on- what happened at my party, at my birthday- oh, my dream from that night-”
“Prowler, we can’t let her break down like this!”
“This is not how we wanted this to happen.”
“Oh, frag it all!” Jazz threw his arms up in the air in defeat. “It burns my spark to see you like this, Abigail, and for so long-”
“Were we a couple, Jazz?”
“Actually,” the holoform began with a nervous laugh. “We were.” Jazz first gestured at himself, then at me, and then at Prowl.
Prowl.
“We were- we were what?” I coughed out. I ran my fingers through my hair. “How can I not remember this??”
Prowl cleared his throat, but I knew it was more for effect than anything. “Ratchet and Prime believe the Decepticons know of your relationship with us, and tampered with you as a distraction.”
“Distraction for what?” My voice was becoming a shout. “Forgetting about all of you is just a distraction to them?”
I was suddenly angry. “And you two thought keeping this information from me was a good idea? How dare you! I’ve been all sorts of fucked up the last few months, and you knew how this was all affecting me, and keeping more secrets from me was the right move?”
Prowl quickly stood, and now he towered over me. “Abigail. It took you five years to realize Jazz was attempting to court you.”
“And I’m dating a married man?”
“Prowler was well aware of-”
I put my hand up in the air. “No. I think I’m done for the day. Please take me home.”
“Sweet-”
“You don’t get to call me that anymore. Neither of you do. You lied to me, and you keep lying to me. You aren’t my friends. Friends don’t-” I could feel something catching in my throat. I shook my head instead of continuing.
It was too much. My head began to throb.
“Is that what everyone has been keeping from me? My relationship with you two?”
“Yes.”
Fan-fucking-tastic.
“Abigail,” Prowl began once more. “We understand if-”
I pointed at him. “Nope. You don’t understand. You don’t understand how alone I felt. How alone I feel, even when I’m surrounded by people that know me. People I should know, but due to your sworn enemies, I don’t. I just remember being alone. For years. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. It’s supposed to- it’s supposed to feel right, it’s supposed to happen the way it-”
The Life {and Death} of Abigail Parker, Chapter 13
I didn’t dream like that in the days that followed. It had been a memory, actually, not just a dream. I was sure of it. But by the time I was halfway through writing down the details, everything that I could remember, it started to get clouded in my mind. I couldn’t remember the ending. I didn’t get the chance to write it down.
Damn it.
The bowl of cereal and milk in front of me was starting to congeal, and I just looked at it. If I stared long enough, it was almost like a live time lapse of it getting soggier and-
What the hell was I doing?
My notebook was beside the bowl. It was open to the first page of the only entry. The dream from last night. The memory. I couldn’t look at it.
Why couldn’t I look at it?
“Ugh, why is this so hard!” I suddenly exclaimed, slamming my fist down on the table. “Is this what I get? Mental turmoil for what? What did I do to deserve this?”
I wasn’t speaking to anybody in particular. Like most mornings, I was alone in my suite. I usually wouldn’t leave until about nine, but this day I didn’t leave.
When the clock struck noon, the bowl still in front of me was beginning to smell. I threw the whole thing away, bowl and all.
I glanced at the open notebook once more before fishing my phone out of my pocket. I couldn’t digest this by myself. So I called the one who stuck out to me the most from my memory. The one who was maybe hiding the most from me. Literally.
“Abigail? What do you want?” Mirage’s voice came through the speaker.
“Raj?” I said quietly.
“Abigail? What’s wrong?”
“If you’re busy right now, I totally get it, but-”
“I’m coming over. Stay right there.”
Not even five minutes had passed before his holoform was standing in my living room, arms crossed. He was staring at me with raised eyebrows.
“Were we… Close, before?” I started. It was so hard for me to figure out how to approach him. He didn’t seem to be mean, none of them really did. But it was obvious now that he had been avoiding me. I needed to figure out why.
Mirage’s holoform heaved a sigh. “Now, we get to it.”
“I’m surprised you even answered my call,” I started, trying to match his facial expression. “Since you’ve been ignoring me for so long.”
“You haven’t called me that since before, Abigail,” the holoform replied, shaking his head. Though I expected him to be far more upset with me; after all, isn’t that what people are when they avoid people? Upset?
“I haven’t called you much of anything recently. I haven’t really seen you.”
“That’s a fair point,” he said. “I haven’t exactly been present.”
My eyes suddenly widened. “You were there when I first met you guys. It was you and Bluestreak, wasn’t it?”
“Are you remembering this?” he questioned.
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I think Jazz might’ve told me.” I was sure he had at some point.
Before we both decided to sit down on the couch to talk, I quickly grabbed the notebook from the table. I sat with it in my lap, the cover shielding him from reading the words. Then I placed it between us.
“I had a dream last night. I think it was some of my memory trying to come back. First Aid suggested writing down my dreams, just in case they were actually me remembering from before, and I did the best I could. I got most of it written down before I couldn’t remember anymore. I haven’t read through it since I wrote it down at almost five in the morning.”
Mirage reached for the notebook, and grabbed it when I didn’t stop him. “Is this why you haven’t left your quarters?” He took it, holding it with both hands. He didn’t open it.
“How did you know I haven’t left?” I asked. How on Earth did he know?
The holoform flashed me a small smile. “Your actions aren’t exactly a secret on this base, dear. Not right now, at least. Prowl made sure everybot knows to keep an optic out for you.”
Of course he did.
“Nosy fraggar,” I muttered, but I didn’t mean it. They cared. I couldn’t be too upset with that. “I couldn’t even finish my breakfast this morning. It’s unsettling.”
“What all came to you in this dream?” he asked.
“I think it was a surprise birthday party for me.”
“Your twenty-eighth,” Mirage responded. “Was that it?”
I sat up just a little straighter. “Yeah, it was. I think. Do you want to read what I wrote?”
The notebook was unopened in his hands. He stared at it for a few more seconds before setting it back down between us. “No. That was written for you, by you. I don’t need to know it from your perspective. I was there.”
“I know. You’re in it.”
“Oh?”
“It was when I called you ‘Raj’, you had asked me if I was having a good time.”
“And you were, of course, as you always did,” he mused, tapping on his thigh absentmindedly. “It really shouldn’t surprise me, of course, that it’s taken you so long to want to talk.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It is not only a river in Egypt, chéri.”
“That’s not even a clever joke, Raj.”
He smirked. “You have always been good at, how would you put it? Calling us on our shit? Even when you ignored yours so well sometimes.”
“What did I ignore?”
“My mistake, I meant present tense. Even now, here you are, ignoring your shit, Abigail.”
“If you’re trying to upset me, Mirage, it’s working,” I grumbled, absolutely refusing to look at him now. “What did you guys expect me to do? Act like everything’s fine, that I should just accept this reality with no questions asked? That’s ridiculous and you know it.”
“You are fighting in a battle against yourself. You can’t accept that your life didn’t go as planned, as you remembered. Not doing what is expected of you is killing you inside. You had almost succeeded in overcoming this, and your brain was altered. None of us blame you for this. But we can’t help you unless you want it.”
Who was this guy to make such accusations towards me?
He continued. “When you first came to us, you were overcoming your need to please others. You were on a spiritual journey of self-pleasure, finding the joy in life yourself, not by what others wanted it to be for you. It seems now that you haven’t reached that conclusion yet, and there is nothing we can do to help you. You will have to find it within yourself.”
God damn. Where was this coming from? This wasn’t even what I wanted to talk to him about!
“No, you listen. I thought I’d call you because out of everybody in my dream, you stuck out to me the most. Because unlike the others, I’m not close to you right now. Not like it seemed like I used to be. It came so naturally, becoming friends with Bumblebee and Jazz and Prowl and- and, well, everybody except for you!” My voice had raised to a shout, and I could feel my heartbeat strong in my chest.
Mirage leaned slightly further in. “You are shouting, chéri.”
“I know that!” I groaned. “What is wrong with me?”
“It is as I said-” Mirage started, before he shook his head. He began again. “It took us five years to successfully plan you a surprise birthday party.”
I had closed my eyes by then.
“It wasn’t for lack of trying, of course. But you always found out one way or another. It was hard to keep a secret from you.”
“Can’t be too hard,” I grumbled. He was obviously keeping things from me as well. Fraggar.
He ignored me. “Parties were typically hosted by you, Blue, and Sunstreaker sometimes. This one was thoroughly planned by five, and it was their job to keep it from you. But that year, you finally stopped questioning them.”
“Who hosted?”
“Jazz, Prowl, Sunstreaker, Bluestreak, and myself.”
Oh. Why did he want to help plan my surprise party?
“Jazz and Prowl did most of the planning, Sunstreaker wanted to head decorations, Blue made sure refreshments were to your liking, and I nailed down the smaller details. It took until that year to figure out that it would be best kept secret from you if no words of planning were spoken aloud. The other humans didn’t know what we were planning. You weren’t even aware of the fact we were planning anything.”
“You seem to be pretty proud that I didn’t have a clue.”
“We all were. It was our gift to you.”
“Why would I deserve a gift like that from you guys?”
“I’m sure someone’s talked to you about how you were harder to get rid of than the plague around here.”
“Sure, but… They said it nicer than that.” That just sounded rude.
I opened my eyes, and he was laughing.
“The humans we had encountered before you did not treat us like you did. They always treated us as either aliens they did not understand or tools for their own benefit. Sometimes both. You, however, treated us like equals. Sure, we were bigger than you, lived longer, better looking, but we were the same. You didn’t treat us any differently than if we were humans ourselves.”
“Would be hard not to, with forms like that.” I gestured to him.
“Even still,” he smiled. “It was a pleasant change for us all. See, you were not scared, and you didn’t desire to take advantage of our power. Optimus Prime unofficially considered you one of us. It had been so long since we had a new face on our team, it was a refreshing change.”
I clicked my tongue. “So… I was basically besties with all of you, so it took you how many years to successfully plan a surprise party for me?”
He blinked at me. “You just had to put it like that, didn’t you?”
“Unwise of you to expect anything less.”
“Touché,” he replied. “I guess I am saying that I hope this time, it doesn’t take you that long to give in. Question us, but listen to our answers. Don’t just hear them and question them more.”
“How am I supposed to do that when I know there’s still stuff you guys are keeping from me?”
“What we are keeping from you is not to harm you, Abigail. Some things, you just can’t be told. If it is meant to be, you’ll figure it out on your own.”
“You sure are feeling philosophical today,” I said. His words weren’t easy to hear. It was easy to do what was expected of me, because I always knew what came next. I knew one expectation would lead to the next, there was a very clear path.
But none of this was expected. None of this was predictable. This was the least predictable time in my life. Hell, two weeks ago, I hadn’t even heard about the parties I supposedly hosted on base. Now? Now, it was just a few days after a party I hosted. And I had a good time.
“It is what you needed to hear,” he answered simply. “Are there any questions you would like answered?”
“I have a feeling we have a complicated relationship,” I said, mostly to myself.
But he laughed anyway. “Indeed, but not your most complicated.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“What other questions do you have for me?”
When Mirage finally had to leave for his shift, I decided to find Chromia. I had recalled speaking to her at the party about doing cardio together, so I knew she’d be game when I asked. It was a beautiful day, after all, and I had a feeling I needed some girl time.
The male species is fine, both human and Cybertronian, but nothing compared to the bond of two females, no matter the species.
“Is it okay if I ask you a few questions, ‘Mia?”
We were already jogging along a dirt path that surrounded the base. I had walked it a few times myself, but not the entire thing. It was a path that went all around the base, but still far enough away from the gates that you couldn’t see them from the path, at least at my height. It made the base seem a lot more out in BFE than it was.
“Long as we keep the pace.”
I groaned. “I’m not sure I can do the whole thing, unless we walk the last half.” We were already at a matching jog, though her strides were easily longer than mine. She was a few inches taller, and I had a feeling it was all in the legs.
“Fair enough,” she responded, “We can walk the last half. What kind of questions do you have for me?”
I had asked Mirage plenty of questions. He made sure not to let slip whatever he was keeping from me by never answering a direct question. I had called him philosophical more than once in that conversation.
Skirting around the point and all. Metaphors were fine, but his avoidance was next level when it came to some things.
I really hoped Chromia would be easier to talk to.
“Do you remember who I was closest to before?”
“You were never one to pick favorites,” she replied, almost a laugh in her voice. “No matter who asked. Why do you want to know?”
I just shrugged, trying to keep my eyes forward on the path. “Probably also has to do with my disdain for making decisions. And favorites. Sometimes.”
“Right. You didn’t know a stranger around here, that’s for sure.”
“Did I have any enemies? Or, frienemies?”
“Not particularly. You and the twins bicker like siblings, but they like that. Ratchet- well, I’m sure you can guess.”
I snickered. “Definitely a love-hate type relationship there. He calls me ‘sparkling’, whatever that means.”
“Has nobody told you? You don’t remember?”
“No.”
Chromia shook her head, her black ponytail swinging from side to side on her back. “A sparkling is like a baby. Youngling would be about the equivalent of a child or teen.”
“Right, yeah, that makes sense- he’s calling me a baby? Ouch.”
“I’m sure it’s endearing.”
“Oh, sure it is.”
She laughed again. “You’re the only human he doesn’t aim for. It must count for something.”
Huh. I thought he just didn’t aim for humans. Maybe he wasn’t that afraid of hurting them.
“And then, so… Sorry if this is weird to ask, I’m sure I asked it before- actually, who explained the Cybertronian birds-and-the-bees to me the first time around?” That almost seemed like a better question to ask.
“I believe you were hosting a slumber party - this was back when you were still just getting to know us - and we were playing the game Truth or Dare. There were a few of us there, and you asked it to one of us as our ‘Truth’, but we all explained it, together. Some humans find it confusing.”
“Did I find it confusing?”
“No, you called it ‘inspirational’. But you were a few drinks in at that point.”
“What, have I become an alcoholic or something since I met you guys?”
“I’m not saying that. It was typically by occasion.”
That made more sense to me. I only ever remembered liking to drink if it was for a purpose, to let loose at a party or something. Drinking on a random Tuesday after a long day at work was unheard of for me. It wasn’t rare if I hadn’t had a drink in months at times.
I just had more occasions now.
“Would you like me to explain it to you?”
“Well, we definitely have the time. Sure. Might as well.”
The Life {and Death} of Abigail Parker, Chapter 12
It was my own fault, really. It had been months since my last drink. I wasn’t too big on drinking- it didn’t taste great usually, and I typically didn’t care for the feeling unless it was for a purpose. Celebrations, mostly, and sometimes a random Saturday.
“That’s it, Abigail, in and out.”
“This is so stupid. I’m twenty-nine years old and I can’t hold my liquor.” My microphone was the inside of a toilet bowl; I could hear my words echo all around the bathroom.
“You ended the night at eleven drinks,” Prowl informed me. He was sitting behind me, his hand rubbing up and down my back. “You typically max out at six drinks.”
“You could’ve stopped me, you know.”
“Really?”
“... You’re right, I was unstoppable.”
Human clubs and bars typically closed around two in the morning. Past that, they weren’t legally allowed to serve alcohol. But we hadn’t been partying at some bar. The party ended as the sun began to peek out beyond the horizon. It was almost six in the morning.
I sniffled before wiping my lips with my wrist. “Can you start the shower for me, Prowl? Please?”
“Do you need my assistance in-”
“No, I can do it myself,” I said quickly. “Just want the water to be warm by the time I get in.”
I was still wearing my pink dress, but I had no idea where those black heels were. I had been escorted back to my suite when the party ended, but I couldn’t remember who did. I hadn’t even taken my makeup off before melting into my bed by myself.
It was a few hours later, and I had rushed to the toilet. Classy, I know.
“What time is it?” I groaned.
“Oh-nine hundred,” Prowl responded, patting me on my back once more. He had already turned on the shower. “Will you be okay by yourself, Abigail?”
“Yes.” Even if I didn’t know for sure, I was determined I would be. I had to. There was no way that mech was helping me in the shower, hot or not.
The holoform stood up behind me. I dry heaved into the toilet a few times before sitting in a relaxed position on the floor. When I looked back at him, he was now holding a large bottle of water and three pills.
“Tylenol,” he told me. “For the hangover.”
I never questioned how Prowl knew I was sick. I just figured he had heard me somehow. It was odd that Jazz wasn’t the one to come to my rescue, but I wasn’t about to complain. Any help in my condition was much appreciated.
My solo shower was glorious. I had picked out one of my favorite pairs of pajamas I had to wear after, and I put them on as soon as I was dry enough. I didn’t even bother to dry my hair before laying down for a nap.
My alarm started to go off at noon. I was still tired, but knew that sleeping any more would just screw up my sleeping schedule more than it already was. I didn’t need help with that. I then decided that I wanted food that wasn’t made by me, so I changed out of my pajamas into more base appropriate attire before heading to the mess hall.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty! Or, should I say, afternoon?”
“Haha, very funny, Lennox,” I said with a roll of my eyes. “What’s the menu for today?”
“Nothing too bad,” the man replied with a laugh. “Chicken and potatoes.”
“Oh, nice!” My favorite.
Instead of eating with the soldiers, I decided to take my food to the AHC (Autobot Hangout Central, but that’s a mouthful) to see what the damage was. Surprisingly, there was little to no sign that there was a wicked party the night and morning prior.
Save for some glitter on the floor, but it made me smile knowing the stuff was not just hard for humans to clean up.
“Hey, Abby!” Blaster greeted me, waving his servo in the air as a ‘hello’. “Man, that was some party last night!”
“This morning, you mean?” I hummed in response. “It was really fun, wasn’t it?”
The mech only grinned at me.
“You finally up and about, huh? What did you think of our party, Abigail? Did you have fun?” Bluestreak. “It sure looked like you did!”
“Too much fun,” I laughed, picking a place to sit. The mechs were not in their holoforms, but I didn’t mind. They didn’t scare me or make me nervous anymore. “Someone could have told me how late it would go, though. I wasn’t prepared for that.”
“It seemed you had been preparing yourself with your own High Grade,” Ironhide retorted.
“Too bad I didn’t get my motor running like you did, ‘Hide,” I shot back, but I was smiling. The mech only scoffed in response, but he didn’t look angry.
“So, Abigail! When is our next party?” Bluestreak had transformed and now his holoform was sitting beside me on the couch. He looked at me eagerly. “Did you think about my suggestion? Prom as the theme for the next one?”
“Blue,” I said, placing my hand on his knee. “Let me tell you something. I spent two hours this morning ejecting the contents of my stomach into the toilet. No, I haven’t given the theme much thought, but I have a feeling it’ll be a while before our next party. My liver requires it to be at least a few weeks.”
“No problem! More time for planning!”
I didn’t eat my lunch in peace, but I didn’t mind. Mechs and femmes came and went from the hangar, and all of them greeted me when they arrived, said goodbye when they left. It was nice.
All except for one. The mech I knew as Mirage.
He didn’t stay long, even when I waved him over. While he did make eye-optic contact with me, he didn’t say a word. He came and left.
“What’s up with him?” I asked once he was out of sight. I internally crossed my fingers that he couldn’t hear me; I still didn’t know how good their hearing was.
“He’s been in a funk for a while,” Sideswipe told me. “About since you lost your memory.”
“Do you think he’s upset with me?” I asked.
“No,” Sunstreaker said. I wasn’t even aware they could roll their optics, but he certainly could. “You’d know if he was upset with you.”
“Oh, would I, Sunshine?” I teased him with a grin.
“Bite me.”
“You wish,” I laughed, setting my now empty tray down on the table in front of us. I leaned back against the couch, with my eyes closed. “This is all so crazy still. I almost can’t believe it.”
“What’s on your mind, Abigail?” Bluestreak asked.
“Well, you guys probably all know the story,” I started. “Something about Energon poisoning, essential Energon or whatever. Decepticons messing with my brain. That’s why I don’t remember any of this.”
“But you don’t fully believe it,” Sunstreaker stated. “Even now, sitting with us, you still think you’re from another universe or something.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know what to believe. It’s why I never got into religion, there was no hard evidence to convince me of a higher power.”
“The evidence of your brain malfunction lies in Ratchet’s medbay.”
“What, I’m just supposed to believe that, too?” I shut my eyes. “I still can’t remember. No matter how hard I try.”
“Have you been writing out your dreams, like I suggested?” First Aid asked from across the room.
I paused. “No.”
“Well, there’s an idea! Maybe your memories will come back in the form of dreams,” Sideswipe suggested. “And I hope you dream of me, and Sun-”
“I’ll stop you right there, before you say anything dumb,” I laughed. I had clapped my hand over his mouth to keep him from going on and on. “You guys are hot, but too much for me. Even if you weren’t Cybertronians.”
“Hey, at least you’re getting our terminology down!” Bluestreak told me with a smile. “Only took you a few months this time.”
“This time? How long did it take me before?”
“It almost took you until your twenty-third birthday,” he informed me. “You were still calling us ‘aliens’ and ‘robots’ until about then. That would’ve been what, eight Earth months?”
I was grateful they were using Earth terminology for time. Klik, vorn, breem, it all went straight over my head. In one ear and out the other.
“Eight months to learn to call you by your race? Why did you guys let me stick around then?” I half-laughed. “I hope I wasn’t offensive.”
“No-no, not at all! You were just learning still,” Bluestreak said. “We gave you space to learn. It was actually kind of fun, a human who wanted to learn all about us.”
I smiled at the holoform. “Well, I’m glad.”
An hour passed, and most of the Cybertronians were gone. I still wasn’t quite sure what they all did all day, but it sounded important. A few of their job titles were pretty self-explanatory. Ratchet, the medic. Obviously, he was busy most of the time, no thanks to me. Optimus Prime, the leader. I’m sure he had a lot to do every day. There were some others I knew of their titles, but I never knew exactly what any of them did.
It would probably go right over my head as well.
“What do you say, Sammy-boy, movie night tonight?” I asked as I flipped through the options on the screen. “Looks like we have our choice of any movie ever created and put online.”
“No, ‘Bee and I are leaving soon,” he told me. “This is my last summer before I graduate, and I think my parents are expecting me to live at home. I figured it’d be best to break the news in person.”
I shook my head, turning off the screen. “You poor soul. Hopefully, Bumblebee will help soften the blow. You’re going to devastate them, Sam, are you sure you want to do that? What harm would there be in-”
He waved his finger in front of me. “Oh, no, you’re not laying on the guilt while I’m still here.”
“Oh, but I am.”
“Y’know, you may not remember your time here, but you’re the same person,” he chuckled. “Seriously. Tactics and all. Have you gotten any of your memories back?”
I sighed. It wasn’t the first time I had answered that question today. “No, but First Aid had a good idea. He thinks they might come to me in my dreams. I haven’t really slept since yesterday, with the party lasting until the ass crack of dawn and whatnot, but if he’s right, I’ll find out soon.”
Sam hummed to himself. “Keep me posted, yeah? We won’t be gone long, I’m staying here until school starts up again this fall.”
That night I laid in my bed, staring up at the ceiling. My watch told me it was not even ten at night, but I was beat.
After Sam and Bumblebee said their goodbyes, I had dinner by myself in my room. Blaster had stopped by to chat, but besides him, I spent my night alone. I wasn’t complaining by any means, but I still wondered where Prowl had been hiding all day. And Jazz, for that matter.
Ya could’ve commed us, Sweetspark. We were only a comm away.
He was right. I could have contacted them myself. It was partly on me that I barely saw them this week. Up until now, I only spent more time with them because they were just here. If I wanted to spend time with them, maybe I would have to be the one to initiate it.
They’re supposed to be my friends, why are they making it so complicated?
I just had to keep telling myself that I would be okay. Everything was fine. Whatever will be, will be.
I didn’t even realize when I had fallen asleep.
~
“Jazz, where on Earth are we going?”
“Ya’s right about that, Sweetspark, we are on Earth, indeed,” the cheeky mech replied, keeping his arm interlocked with hers. He was leading her, she couldn’t see with the blindfold on.
“You- Ugh!” But she was smiling. “You frustrate me sometimes.”
“Abster, Sweetspark, ya made me promise ya that I wouldn’t tell ya, even if ya asked!”
“Using my words against me, I see,” she responded.
“If ya don’t watch ya mouth, it’ll be me using me against ya,” Jazz teased. “... Ya may take off the blindfold.”
“Surprise!”
“Happy birthday!”
“Oh, wow! A surprise birthday party on my birthday?” she exclaimed. “How did you-”
“No interrogations, Abs,” Jazz said proudly, pushing her forward. “Just enjoy. Ya’ve earned it.”
The two of them entered the hangar together. Really, it looked more like a dance hall than a military base hangar. A makeshift drop-ceiling was made at about twenty-five feet, as opposed to the natural ceiling’s height of over sixty feet. Although their bipedal forms didn’t make her uncomfortable, for this event, everybody was present in a more human form, with their alt modes parked along one side of the room.
On the opposite end of the room from the vehicles was what looked to be a buffet. From a distance, it looked to be salad bar like, but once you get closer, you realize that it’s none other than a mashed potato bar. Sides of different cheeses, both melted and shredded, bacon bits, chives, peppers, sour cream, and anything else you could think to add to a mashed spud. There was never not a line for this.
Hanging from the drop ceiling were beads in blush, silver, and gold, her favorite colors. Even the lighting of the room had that blush tint to it, what she liked to call Millennial Pink. Sunstreaker had determined that although it wasn’t in her ‘season of colors’, it was appropriate to use as decor. How nice.
They didn’t end there. Between the beads were loops and loops of white and pink streamers. Clouds of fog and vapor, smelling faintly like cherry and vanilla, floated around the middle of the room, making a cool effect when the dance floor lights struck through them just right. As both humans and holoforms danced through the clouds, they dispersed, but never faded. It almost made the air look like it was sparkling.
They really thought of everything.
“Happy, happy birthday, Abigail!” a rather cheery mech told her. Bumblebee. He handed her a champagne flute, but it definitely didn’t contain champagne. “Cheers to twenty-eight!”
She laughed, taking the glass from him. “Cheers, Bee!” When she lifted the glass to her lips, she was delighted to find it to be her favorite drink. She called it ‘Blue Drank’, a mixture of blue raspberry lemonade, sprite, and vodka. The perfect mix of easy to drink, but still tasted like a hint of alcohol.
She made her way around the room, greeting and cheers-ing everybody and bot she knew. Which was just about everyone, by that point. Ironhide, Ratchet, Wheeljack, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker. She recognized every one of them.
Holoforms couldn’t eat or drink human food, but were perfectly capable of consuming liquid Energon. It was pretty easy to distinguish human drinks and liquid Energon, except on these occasions where her favorite drank was involved. It seemed every fifteen minutes, somebody reminded her not to grab the wrong color.
They were both blue.
At any point in the night, there was an equal chance of finding her on the dance floor, hip to hip with anybody, making her way through all the toppings at the mashed potato bar, or drinking and gossiping with the others. It seemed everyone was ready to celebrate, and boy did they know how to party.
Even the playlist was perfectly catered. It was lucky that most of the Autobots and humans alike agreed that 2000s music was just about the peak, especially songs that made you want to sing and dance along. Everyone was in a dancing mood that night.
“Darling, enjoying yourself?”
“When am I not, Raj?” she grinned at the holoform, raising her glass to match his. “This is the best birthday ever. All of my favorite things, all of my favorite people- how did I not get wind of this?”
“Humans were only told an hour ago,” Mirage said through a smirk. “Jazz made sure it was comm-only knowledge until then. Did he pick the dress?”
“It was laid out for me after my shower,” she laughed. “Along with a color palette to use for my eyeshadow, blush, and lipstick.”
“Sunny,” he shook his head. “He was in charge of decorations, too.”
“Figures.”
The war had raged on for so long. In order to keep sane, it was clear how much the Autobots valued their relationships, friendships, closeness, togetherness. For a species made of metal, they were rather physically affectionate, and not just with their romantic counterparts. Few humans were able to understand.
Abigail had been flustered when they first taught her some traditional Cybertronian dance. It was like an erotic mix of bachata and mambo, heavier on the footwork, and a big focus on being so close to your partner, you were almost one. It was more intimate than any kind of dancing she knew of on Earth.
Bumblebee had offered to help her, but when she just couldn’t get it, she tried with other mecha. It was hard for her to cooperate with a lead she didn’t share any dancing chemistry with, even with her faint beginner’s knowledge on choral singing, music, and dancing. It was just too unfamiliar.
Until Jazz had pulled her into his chest.
His holoform was almost a foot taller than her, so he had to bend his knees more than usual, his right leg between hers, his left leg outside her right. His lips brushed her ears. “Relax, Abs. Follow me.” Her temple rested somewhere between his neck and his collarbone, and she could hear the mimicked hum of his spark through the holoform’s chest.
For just a few seconds, her heart forgot how to beat.
It was somehow freeing, to so openly dance in such a way. After that, she could easily keep up with any mecha whom asked to dance. It was hot, sexy dancing, and she loved it more than she’d admit to any human who asked.
Of course, this was her party. She didn’t care what anyone thought of her. She could dance how she liked, and with whom she liked, and it didn’t matter what anybody thought about that. It was her night.
The general style of dance was the same, position wise, but the almost electric energy (or vibe, as she often called it) wasn’t always so intimate and sexy. Sometimes, it could be familial, it could be purely platonic.
One of the biggest issues that Abigail found was how difficult it was for humans to sense the difference, no matter how hard they tried. She’d argue that Cybertronians were a more intimate species than humans.
For those reasons, she stuck to more ballroom-style dancing with mechs such as Optimus and Ratchet. It was too hard for her to let herself dance like that with such superiors, even though they weren’t her superiors by any means. She wasn’t an Autobot, she wasn’t military. She was a civilian that had somehow burrowed her way into one of the best kept secrets in the United States.
She didn’t find it hard or anything.
But those two were like the main dads of the Autobots, she often told herself, and she’s not dancing the bachata with anyone who was more dad than Daddy.
Daddy vibes was a different… story, but not one she’d address for a while still.
Where was she again?
Dancing with Bumblebee’s holoform was the most difficult, mostly because he was the closest to her height. Still, they danced in the Cybertronian fashion. With him, it definitely felt more like she was dancing with her brother, close and intimate but not in a sexual way at all.
She couldn’t say the same, however, about the next few mechs who asked for her hand. The twins, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, liked to dance in such a position that Abigail could barely breathe, sandwiched between the two of them. Their dancing almost embarrassed her in front of the American human soldiers, it often mimicked something that you’d only access by video in an incognito tab. It dripped sex, just about any way you could ‘do it’ without actually doing anything and with clothes still on.
Abigail often wondered what it felt like with a lover, and without clothes. But she’d never say that out loud.
Mirage often reminded her of a boy she met in college. They were in the same circles, but never directly friends. But at any moment when they were together, the chemistry was instant and electric. Alas, they were much better off as friends, but it was exciting to be able to flirt (and sometimes smack talk) knowing it was all in good fun and no consequences. Well, little to no consequences anyway.
And then there was Jazz.
One of the first mecha she could remember meeting. She held his almost fatal accident of sitting on her over his helm, and he let her believe she had some sort of power over him because of it. What began as an innocent ‘let me help you’ and ‘it’s not your fault you got involved in our war’, ‘I’m sorry I almost killed you by sitting on you after you got attacked by our enemies, let me make it up to you in any way you can think of’ turned into a genuine friendship within months.
In fact, she always suspected that the reason the government offered to relocate her within ten minutes of the military base was because of Jazz somehow. She knew it didn’t realistically make much more sense, but she decided not to question it. She wanted to be closer to those she called friends.
And when they did the traditional Cybertronian style dance together, it was the most difficult for her to distinguish if it was friendly intimacy she felt or something more. Her brain refused to let her believe it was anything but platonic, but there was a small whisper in the back of her mind that argued it could be more than she thought. And her acting on that whisper, finding out, just terrified her.
But it was close to impossible to hide the way her cheeks began to heat up, turning almost that same Millennial Pink color she claimed was her favorite mixed with scarlet. It was close to impossible to hide the way the tips of her ears turned the same color, and how their temperature began to rise.
And worst of all, it had always been the worst to hide the way she wanted to press her thighs tightly together, crossing her legs in such a way to give some pressure and relief to the area around her groin that just screamed to be touched. With Jazz’s leg in that position, his knee bent in such a way that his right thigh angled just right against her body…
It felt glorious.
“Enjoyin’ ya’self, Sweetspark?” His voice, even with his accent, was as smooth as honey against her hot ears.
Even in all her glory, Abigail couldn’t speak. Her lips were quickly otherwise occupied.
It was her surprise 28th birthday party. Abigail was kissing Jazz.
~
When I woke up, my head was pounding.
I checked my phone.
4:43am
Without a second thought, after wiping the sleep from my eyes, I flipped open the fresh notebook on my nightstand, turned on my light, and began to write.
The Life {and Death} of Abigail Parker, Chapter 11
Oh, Autobots sure knew how to party.
By the time Jazz and I had made it back to the location, it was already full of dancing bodies, both human and holoform. The music could be felt through the ground from hallways away, but it was still a comfortable level of sound when you were inside.
Some sound system.
“No need to push yourself tonight, Abigail,” Jazz mumbled against me. I hadn’t noticed, but we were stopped in front of the room, in the hallway. Did I stop walking, or did he? “Jus’ have fun. Enjoy yourself.”
With his words of encouragement, along with a little liquid courage mixed with blue raspberry goodness, I was unstoppable.
“Hey, Abby! Over here!”
I didn’t recognize the voice as a mech’s, but a human’s. I followed the voice to a small circle of military personnel who obviously knew me more than I knew them.
“Hey, guys! Enjoying yourself? Was it a bad idea to just have one drink available?” Well, one adult beverage and water bottles.
“Less choices to make at the end of the night,” one of them pointed out, a man wearing an outfit similar to Jazz’s. But he didn’t pull it off like Jazz did. “I’ve never had too bad of a hangover from just one type of alcohol.”
“Sounds like I made the right choice then,” I said, giving him a smile.
The four of them then introduced themselves. Three guys and one woman. Thomas, he was the one who called out to me. Jackson made the hangover comment. The two that hadn’t spoken, but shared similar smiles towards me, were Rotham and Pierce. I assumed that those were all last names, and I was right for once.
“I love your dress!” Pierce told me, gesturing. She was wearing a similar dress, but it was very bodycon. Her curves made it look like she was a model. “You haven’t worn that one in a while- though you probably don’t remember.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” I chuckled, finding myself rubbing my neck again as a crutch. My curls were pinned up in a mock-updo, though some of them fell around my face and neck, and I quickly retreated my hand. I didn’t need my hair getting caught in my bracelet. “I’m trying really hard to remember. Ratchet says that if my memory will come back, it’ll be soon.”
“I hope you do get it back,” Rotham told me. He was one of few men wearing an undershirt. I couldn’t blame him. It was hard to compete with the mechs.
“Me, too,” I agreed.
I made small talk with them for a while before allowing myself to wander, sipping on what was probably my third drink. That was the dangerous part about it, it barely tasted like alcohol, when there was actually hundred proof vodka in there. Dangerous little bombs.
But they were just so easy to drink.
I found Bluestreak when I was searching through the sea of bodies, human and holoform. After he made sure the drink in my hand was not Energon, we got lost in conversation, already planning our next party.
“What if we do ‘Prom’ as our next theme?”
“That would be so cool! That’s not one we’ve done before. I’m sure Ratchet and Wheeljack will be able to add more clothing to the holoforms’ docket, plus we can-” And on. And on.
The twins, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, were absolutely breathtaking. Man, could they pull off only wearing an open blazer. Sideswipe’s was ruby red, and Sunstreaker’s was a mustard yellow color. Who knew I’d ever be a fan of mustard yellow? It looked good.
“Nice party, Abs,” Sideswipe told me with a grin. “Sunny and I thought we might host a rival party.”
I placed my hands on my hips, though the hand with my drink was only near my hips. Close enough. “Oh, yeah? I really doubt you’d get even half of the count here. Face it, Blue and I throw killer parties.”
Sunstreaker jabbed his brother in the side, but then turned to me. “Nice party,” he repeated. “But ours will be better.”
“Whatever you say, Sunshine.”
The holoform blinked at me. “Why’d you call me that?”
“Sunstreaker? Sunny? Sunshine? Need I go on?” I patted his shoulder with my free hand. “I’m sure I could come up with more if you’d like.”
Yeah, they weren’t too keen on partying with me after that. Sunshine especially.
“Sam?”
How I recognized the guy from the back of his head, I didn’t know. But I was right. It was Sam.
“Hey, Abby,” Sam called back to me, lifting his hand up in greeting. “Long time, no see, huh?”
“Did they tell you?” I asked him, walking closer.
“Bumblebee did,” he nodded. “As best he could. Ratchet’s been so busy with your stuff, he hasn’t had much time to gather what he needs to fix Bumblebee’s voice.”
I paused, my eyes wide. “Oh, Sam, I didn’t mean to-”
Sam waved his hand quickly in the air, as if to erase what he just said. “No! God, no, I didn’t mean it like that. He’s been working on it for ages anyway, Abby, it’s not you keeping Bumblebee from his voice. The Decepticons do enough of that.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, good. The last thing I want to be is a burden here.”
Sam raised his glass, looking around the room. “Doesn’t seem like much of a burden to me. Care to dance?”
He didn’t have to ask me twice. He was no holoform, but he had some moves.
At least he thought so. I wasn’t going to tell him otherwise. He was having a good time.
When Sam got too tired to continue, I was passed from human to holoform, mech to man, dancing both just side by side and together, using each other to stay upright.
It was a blast.
It was getting easier for me to tell who was who, and it was hard to tell if I was just pulling from Prowl’s slide show of information or my own memories. I didn’t bother deciding if it was from the most recent months of my life’s memories or not.
No, my mind was occupied with more pressing, more recent, matters.
“Where have you been? I haven’t seen you all week!”
How many drinks was that?
Both Prowl and Jazz were standing near Blue, somewhere around the drink table. But I was speaking to Prowl this time.
I pointed at Jazz. “I’m comin’ onto you next, mister. Both of you. You didn’t come see me all week! What am I, chopped liver? I thought we were friends.”
The blank stares I received were enough to make me start to backtrack.
“I mean-”
“Abigail, with everything that has happened, Jazz and I thought it would be best to give you space.”
“Just in case ya memories come back and ya want to process ‘em alone,” Jazz added. He reached for my arm, and I didn’t pull away. His eyes, even behind the glasses, had me in a trance. “Ya could’ve commed us, Sweetspark. We were only a comm away.”
Damn it, he was right.
“I guess that’s on me, too,” I finally said, trying to break away from his eyes, but not his grip. “It’s been a long… Few weeks, actually. More than a few.”
It often slipped my mind that I had every human and mech on base’s number on my phone.
“I apologize if that conclusion gave you any distress,” Prowl said, offering me another hand.
There I was, too many drinks in to count, holding both of their hands.
“You guys are so weird,” I concluded with a laugh, letting go of both of them at once. My hands suddenly felt cold by themselves, but I pushed that thought away. “I should probably get back out there, huh?”
“Want some help?” Jazz offered, instead holding out his elbow for me.
I linked arms with him, grinning. “Let’s go, mech.”
I danced with Jazz for a while before Prowl took over. He was a lot more controlled, a lot more subdued with his dance moves. But when I kept urging him to follow me, he gave in, mimicking my more eclectic moves.
I was never all that good at dancing, non-choreographed at least. That wasn’t new.
As more time passed, the room began to empty, save for the mechs. It seemed that the humans wanted to call it quits around midnight, which I could understand, but the mechs? Oh, no. The night was still young.
“Even though it’s technically tomorrow now.”
“It is technically a new day. Today, not tomorrow, you’re thinking of yesterday.” Sideswipe grinned at me. “Are you ready for the party of today?”
Before I could answer, the lighting in the room changed. It was now dim, and there was a shiny silver chandelier in the middle of the ceiling, the small spotlight-like lights dancing around the floor and walls. Was that there before?
Even the music changed, the genre shifting from regular club pop style music to a more techno, yet smooth, kind. It wasn’t nearly as odd sounding as I had first thought.
Now, it was easier than ever to tell who was who, even who was with who. For metal alien robots, they sure loved each other. Not all in the same ways, of course, as I was slowly figuring out.
It had taken me a few explanations to sort of understand the relationship between Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. They were twins, brothers, but they were also lovers. Two halves of the same whole. Split-spark twins. It fascinated me, was a little weird to watch at times, and quite honestly sounded painful. I couldn’t imagine only having half a heart.
But I was also sure it was just an expression, they didn’t only have half a spark each, I bet.
The relationship between Chromia and Ironhide was a lot easier to understand. They were lovers, in a relationship together, and in times like this, everybody knew, whether they wanted to or not. Gross.
I quietly wondered if they kissed in their bipedal forms. They probably did, but imagining the sound of their metal mouths touching-
It made me cringe, not gonna lie. I hoped it didn’t sound like that.
As the music changed again, so did the mood once more. The lights turned a shade of pink, and if I didn’t know any better, I would think I was in a nightclub.
Oh, and there was dancing. Hot dancing.
It made me blush, and I didn’t even think I was a prude. Why were they dancing like that?
“You had the same reaction seven years ago.”
“Bumblebee?” I suddenly gasped. Before I could realize what I was doing, I was hugging the holoform next to me. It hadn’t occurred to me that Sam and Bumblebee would both be here. It would be odd if ‘Bee just dropped him off. But I wasn’t thinking straight. “You’re here!”
“Hey, Abby,” the young man chuckled, wrapping his arms around me. “Good to see you, too. Hey, I heard about what happened. How are you handling it?”
I lifted the drink in my right hand up in response. It was a wonder how I hadn’t spilled it yet. “Gettin’ better every day, I think! Doc says I could remember stuff soon. The right stuff this time.”
“That’s great,” he smiled, slowly lowering the arm I had raised in the air for probably longer than it should have. “Do you wanna dance? I can teach you, again.”
“Oh, would you?”
It seemed less daunting, learning the dancing with Bumblebee. He, like the other holoforms, was hot, yes- but it was somehow different, a more boyish hot than man hot. If I had been younger, I’d probably think otherwise.
Just thinking of dancing with another mech made my ovaries flip, but mostly one or two in particular. There was no way I’d actually learn the dance with them.
“Shhh, can’t tell,” I whispered aloud to myself, a goofy grin on my face.
Bumblebee just chuckled, pulling me out to the dance floor. He had somehow gotten ahold of my drink and tossed it, because I didn’t have it anymore, my hands were free for dancing.
He tried to maintain eye contact with me (he really tried his best, I was making it rather difficult) as he grabbed my wrists to help place my arms in the right spots. He brought my left hand to rest on the back of his right shoulder, tucked just behind the top of his shoulder, and my right hand was directed to his mid-waist.
What made me a little bashful was when he moved my legs. My left leg was outside his right, and my right leg was between both his legs. If you didn’t know what we were doing, which I barely did, you’d think we were humping each other’s legs.
“You okay? Keep going?”
“Yeah,” I said, looking up at him again. His blue eyes were soft, comforting. I felt my posture begin to relax.
Bumblebee gently tugged my body closer to his, and we met in the middle, moving with the beat. I struggled to keep up at first, there was a lot more leg-work involved than you’d think, but I slowly started to get the hang of it.
Before I knew it, the song had ended, and Bumblebee was leaving me to go dance with someone else. I didn’t mind, it was exhausting to dance like that.
“Traditional Cybertronian dance,” Jazz’s voice came from beside me.
I jumped. “Where’d you come from?”
He laughed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. He was so warm. “You were lost when ya learned it the first time, too, Sweetspark. But I had ta teach ya, Bumblebee couldn’t get ya to get it.”
“How did I get it?”
“I asked ya to dance with me,” he said softly, but he was smiling, looking out in the crowd of dancing holoforms. “I had to ask twice, ya know. Don’t think ya heard me the first time.”
“Were we best friends?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said rather quickly through pursed lips with a nod.. “Definitely somethin’ like that.”
I decided I was satisfied with that answer.
“Does Prowl dance like this?”
Jazz hummed before he answered this time. “Nah, not here. He doesn’t care much for PDA, even when it’s just the team.”
“Is it that sexual?” I could feel my cheeks begin to head up again.
Jazz shook his head, his arm moving on my shoulder bit by bit. “Not always, it certainly can be. We Cybertronians have learned how important intimacy in all ways can be. Especially now.”
The war had raged on for so long. In order to keep sane, it was clear how much the Autobots valued their relationships, friendships, closeness, togetherness. For a species made of metal, they were rather physically affectionate, and not just with their romantic counterparts.
“You guys really don’t hold back.”
“What’s a better time to be intimate than war?” he laughed.
“Fragging and fighting,” I snorted in response.
“Who used tha’ word in front of you?” Jazz asked me calmly.
I just shrugged. “Dunno. Why, is it another no-no word?”
Jazz laughed once more, but moved his arm from my shoulders this time. He turned to face me, and had to tilt his head down to look at me. Damn, was he even taller tonight? “Ah don’t wanna get mah hopes up for ya memory returnin’.”
“Then don’t,” I replied simply. “Either it will, and all will be well, or it won’t, and I’ll just have to become friends with everybody all over again like I have been.”
“Wise words for a lady on her ninth drink,” he chided. I had not to sneakily been reaching for another cup to fill. Busted.
“You’re funny with your accent, it’s always changing,” I giggled. Then, I became more serious. I grabbed his shoulder with my spare hand, though it was probably tighter than I intended. “Is there anything that I should be remembering that I’m not?”
Jazz was now still. He didn’t even open his mouth.
When he finally did move, I pouted that he was taking my fresh drink away from me. I didn’t even realize until we were in the middle of the dance floor that we were no longer by the drink table.
Like Bumblebee, he gently helped me get all of my limbs into their proper position. As if on cue, the music switched to another techno-sounding, yet smooth, song, no doubt another Cybertronian jam.
“I don’t know if there’s some sort of singing that I don’t understand,” I said softly, “but this song sounds romantic.”
“You’re right,” Jazz smiled down at me. Only then did it click in my mind what I was doing. I was dancing with Jazz.
I was hot dancing with Jazz.
Even if I wanted to squeeze my upper thighs together, which I so did, I couldn’t, simply because then I’d only be squeezing him as well. He’d definitely notice something was up.
No, I was going to be cool. I was going to be so cool about this, ice cubes were going to be jealous. Yeah, that’s it.
Even with the height difference, it didn’t feel like I had to stretch myself to reach him. Maybe it was the drunk, maybe it was the fact that he was possibly crouching the slightest bit to reach me. All I knew was that it was comfortable.
This felt right.
“How are ya doin’, Abster?” Jazz asked me, though I got what he was saying from reading his lips, not the sound that escaped.
“Fine,” I replied with a sigh to match. My face was relaxed now, but I was smiling. I had completely forgotten that we were even dancing.
It almost made me jump when I felt a soft pressure against my forehead. When I opened my eyes, and I didn’t even realize I had closed them, I could see that it was him. He had pressed his forehead to mine. His sunglasses had fallen down his nose slightly, and his eyes were looking right into mine.
