Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For a while, it felt like you were falling. Or, at least, dreaming about falling. You couldn’t tell. Your senses weren’t working as they normally did.

There was a steady amount of commotion outside of your unconscious bubble. You were only able to pick out a bare minimum of words that came close enough to the edges, however any attempt to reach out further was always overcome with a wave of fatigue.

Occasionally, you had dreams. Just loose events and feelings carelessly mangled together, like scraps of fabric from over the years sewn together into a misshaped blanket. If you were lucky, you could probably find threads anchored to a dream that resonated like a memory. However, the exact details were fuzzy, like the edges of a cloud on a summer’s day or an impressionist painting of a scene you vaguely recognized.

The last thing you remembered was being handed a broken canister of sorts. It had been leaking a strange green substance, some of which dribbled onto your hands. A similar sensation to warm water being poured onto your fingers, until they tingled with a strange numbness.

Then, someone pushed you, flinging you from reality, before you had a chance to wipe it away.

You tried to keep hold of these vivid details, of your name, your existence, and your life. You grasped onto them tighter than roots in soil, to remind yourself of who you were. They were some of the only things you brought with you as you kept falling, falling down, through an abyss you did not belong in.

==

Earlier, Arcee and Jack had been informed of an energon signal not too far from Jasper. A faint signal, Ratchet had told them, one that seemed more like a glitch in a system than anything. But, it was usually better to check them to avoid drawing the attention of the Decepticons.

When they were near the location, Jack couldn’t see anything unusual from the rust-colored desert. Since they were pretty close to a road, he decided to hop off to get a closer look, while Arcee stayed in her vehicle mode.

However, just as Jack approached two large rocks, he heard a low resonating ringing. A bright light, similar to that of a groundbridge, burst from the ground like a green firework. From the impact, large gusts of wind carried handfuls of dust, circling around him like a tornado. He had barely heard Arcee call out to him.

The next moments passed like a forgotten nightmare. He remembered he could not see through the tears as sand and dust blew onto his face and that he was wheezing and coughing. Arcee must have transformed at some point because as soon as the winds began dying down, Jack saw her looming over him protectively.

“You okay?” She tentatively asked. He nodded.

As the sand and dust settled, they saw that the light had disappeared. In its place was a human.

Slumped over the rocks, they looked like they were sleeping. Besides the dust covering their back, their clothes were relatively sand free. However, there were several rips and tears in the cloth that did not seem like a fashion choice. 

That’s when Jack noticed the blood seeping through the fabric. 

Arcee and him tried to wake the person up. Yet, they were met with silent indifference, and the person stayed still, unmoving. Jack was suddenly very aware of his own heartbeat.

“Arcee, what… what do we do?”

Arcee’s expression hardened. Then, she transformed into her alt-mode and gestured for him to get on.

“Load them on quickly. We need to get to a human hospital as soon as possible.”

Jack nodded. He picked up the person as gently as possible, positioning them so they wouldn’t fall off of Arcee. Soon, the three headed off as if they were fleeing Decepticons.

Along the desert of Nevada, Arcee pushed against her limit as she raced against the setting sun. Jack held on tightly, heart skipping as he saw the outskirts of town. 

They got to Jasper just as the sun’s edges were kissing the horizon, and Jack was able to get the attention of several paramedics standing outside the hospital. 

They asked him several questions ranging from who he was, where he found the unconscious person, and why he was out in the desert alone. He answered the best he could, trying to follow the paramedics while they transported the person into the building in case he could learn about their well-being. However, someone reached out an arm and stopped him from going in.

“Young man, it’s best if you head back home. We’ll take it over from here,” a paramedic said. Jack lingered long enough to see the person being carried into the hospital. Behind him, Arcee rolled up as hospital staff began trickling back into the building.

“Come on Jack. It’s already getting dark. Your mom is going to worry.” 

He tried to swallow the lump that formed in his throat, slowly nodding as he got back on. As they drove towards his house, he glanced over his shoulder. 

Later that evening, Arcee pinged the base of a report. Though there hadn’t been anything of Cybertronian origin, she detected a faint energon signal from the human they found. 

The next morning, the signal re-emerged at the hospital.

==

You found yourself in a blank void.

Oddly enough, it wasn’t empty, as there was an array of orbs surrounding you. Most of them had blended into the background, thrumming a faint, colorless light. If you hadn’t nearly bumped into one, you wouldn’t have known they had existed.

As your vision adjusted to the brightness around, you noticed one of the orbs, a few rows away from you, was vibrating a tinted red color.

You had taken several steps towards that orb. Up close, you noticed it was constantly moving, rotating upon itself. It looked a bit like a tiny star. You had waved a hand over and underneath it, to see if there was anything holding it up. There was not. 

Faintly, there was a voice coming from the orb, but far too muffled to be understood. It was much noisier compared to the colorless orbs, which hummed like soft electricity.  Interesting.

You reached to touch the orb.

It reacted like static, immediately jumping to make contact with your hand. 

Its voice grew louder, much clearer, in an unfamiliar language that you weren’t sure was possible for humans to speak.

A warmth spread to your fingertips. Then, a surge of sensations and experiences rushed through your mind.

The smells of smelted metal and the silhouettes of giants melded into your mind. Pain, sorrow, anger, at the fading thrums of lost lives laid before you through memories of someone else.

Briefly, your eyes matched with their burning, blue ones.

Overwhelmed, you woke up.

==

Your first sight was a hospital room, surrounded by medical machinery. The ceiling lights buzzed and the heart monitor beeped.  

Someone with a white coat walked in. Instinctively, you tried to sit up to greet them, failing as your lack of energy made it difficult to focus. 

More people seemed to enter the room. Words and phrases flew past your head, and you did not catch them at all. You responded to questions with nods and head shakes, but you could not remember them in your drowsiness. The only thing you wanted to do was go back to sleep. 

Chapter Text

Agent Fowler couldn’t say he was surprised something like this would happen. Of course, he didn’t expect it, nor was he pleased, but a human giving off a faint energon signal did not seem like the strangest thing he’d seen since working with Team Prime.

As usual, he informed the higher ups and did his best to keep the situation on the down low. That was relatively easy, as very few people even know about the person found in the desert, nor had they seen Arcee in her root mode.

The difficult part came when his unit was ordered to investigate their desert person. 

For starters, they had not appeared in any databases Unit: E had access to. Even with extended help from Team Prime, they could not find anything about the person. As if his job wasn’t hard enough, trying to keep the Earth safe from a revived warlord flying and residing with his army in the Earth’s atmosphere.

At this point, the only available solution that wouldn’t waste any more resources was to just ask the person themself, who was comatose when they were transported to the hospital. Agent Fowler still left contact information for the hospital, in case there had been any changes to their condition.

He had not expected the phone call in the afternoon right as he was dropping in at the Autobot base to see how the team was doing after the whole Bumblebee/Megatron fiasco from last week. He excused himself from the conversation he was having with Optimus Prime at the time to answer the phone.

It had been from the hospital, and the news they gave him was a pleasant surprise. Turns out, the person had gained consciousness. Additionally, they were recovering exceptionally well to the point where they could probably begin physical therapy within the same week. 

Taking the chance, he scheduled an appointment to meet with the patient within a couple of days. Although they were unlikely to go anywhere before or after then, the faster he met with them the faster his team could know where to start looking to get answers.

All things considered, it was going better than it normally would. And that made Agent Fowler cautious of what was to come. Situations like this inherently led to more questions than answers. 

He wasn’t looking forward to the headaches in the months ahead.

==

In your dream, you were standing in front of a city.

The city was nothing like anything you had seen before. Skyscrapers, shaped like stalagmites reaching for the sky, glowed against the night sky. Highways and roads seemed to wrap and climb upon every building, like vines on a wall. From where you were standing, the city had been so wide that it seemed to block out the horizon. Below you was a wide road made of metal, coming from a desert that was bare aside from some large rocks that were present.

Occasionally, a vehicle would pass by you to go out of the city. While most of them were the size of a car, or a truck, they were shaped oddly. Prominent linear lines that were shaped into a rectangular box, sometimes even lacking windows. 

Everything else was a blank space. The road itself seemed to disappear into it, like it was part of an unfinished painting where only the subject was materialized. You realized the entire place was silent, and you could hear your own blood pump in your ear. You frowned as you noticed these details.

Then, you heard a series of mechanical creaks from behind you.

A couple feet away was a gigantic red robot. The first thing you noticed about the robot was that they had bullhorns on top of their head. The next were the car parts that were integrated into their frame, with a car bumper that made their torso and wheels placed where their shoulder blades would be. Their eyes, with their glowing blue pupils, widened in disbelief.

“How are you here?” They asked, bewildered.

“...Am I not supposed to be here?” You responded, wondering why you were dreaming about a Transformer.

They looked around, gaze lingered at the blank spaces of the city, hesitating. “I don’t know. Isn’t this the Well? Can humans even go to the Well?” 

“...What is that?”

Before the robot could respond, the city seemed to fade. Like an old image, shedding flakes away from a blank page. Each time a chunk had been removed, it felt like the ground underneath you was disappearing. The ground underneath seemed to crack, before shattering like glass.

Just before you fell, a gray hand reached out to you.

==

At 9 o’ clock in the morning, your vision, hearing, and thoughts felt blurry. You felt like an old porcelain figure, stiffer than a wooden door and creaking even more than one. Your mouth was drier than sand, and you felt like you had been torn apart atom by atom. What an odd dream you had.

One of your arms was loosely wrapped in a bandage with IV needles hidden underneath, connected to tubes filled with clear liquids. As usual, a slew of machines you could not name beside your head. The white room was dimly lit by the outside sky dotted with clouds.

Running a hand down your face. After taking a few deep breaths, you heard the heart monitor behind you steadying into a normal pace. 

How did you get here? The massive bruise, alongside some cuts and smaller bruises, that littered your right side, and the fact it took you days to remain conscious indicated something serious happened. However, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t remember what it might have been. How long had you even been out for?

You grimaced. Regardless, you weren’t eager to know about the potential cost of this hospital stay. 

Your thoughts were interrupted when the door opened, revealing a doctor that walked through. She had initially been looking at her clipboard, until she noticed you were sitting up.

She stood for a moment, surprised. Then, she began asking questions. Apparently, this was the first time in three days since you had first been conscious.

A few minutes later, she introduced herself as Dr. Rodriguez, your primary care doctor since you were brought to the hospital. Now that you were conscious, she had wanted to discuss your recovery plan.

She detailed the exact treatments you were receiving and the ones you wouldn't need anymore. You nodded along, though a lot of information slipped past due to a combination of general confusion and lack of medical knowledge. You did hear mentions of physical therapy sessions being moved to tomorrow, which probably was a good sign.

“Is there anything you wanted to ask me?" She asked once she was done explaining.

You thought about it, before deciding to ask her where you were.

"You're in Memorial Hospital in Jasper, Nevada."

You paused. " ...Jasper, Nevada.” You repeated.

"Yes. Is there something wrong?"

You didn’t recognize the town’s name at all. “...Could I ask how I got here?” You started. “Like, how was I brought to this hospital?”

Dr. Rodriguez wrote something on her clipboard. “Unfortunately, the most I know is that you were found in the desert by someone who helped you get here on a motorcycle. If it helps, I believe there are people investigating your situation, one of whom wants to visit you later this week to try and help you.”

You gave a distracted nod, mind racing trying to find an explanation. Noticing this, Dr. Rodriguez put her clipboard down next to a computer monitor. “I imagine it must be very stressful right now. How about this? Considering that you seem to be fine physically, I’ll just do a quick check. Then, I’ll leave you to rest for a bit. Sounds good?”

The doctor did a few quick tests to test your strength and checked some of the bandages on your body. She asked several questions, but they were easy enough that you could nod or shake your head to answer it.

“You’re healing remarkably well,” she noted as she looked at a ginormous scarring scratch at your side. “If I hadn’t seen it myself, I wouldn’t have believed the wound you had when you came in was the same one.”

Once she was done, she recorded some things onto the form on the clipboard and instructed you to relax as much as you could. While it was expected for you to fill out some forms, as long as you finished them by the end of tomorrow you could do them at any point you wanted to. You just had to call for a nurse when you were ready.

When you gave her a thumbs up in confirmation, she left the unit, closing the door with a gentle click. 

You laid back down onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. Yes, you felt tired, but with what you were just told, and what you had just seen in your dreams, you were hesitant to go back to sleep. 

Something wasn’t quite right, and it made you anxious. Restless.

==

The city had disappeared the next time you had arrived… here. Wherever this was.

You squinted as you looked around you. It reminded you of the gigantic white void with the array of the orbs from earlier. Without them, it felt more…constricted. Far too quiet, far too empty. You could hear blood pumping past your ears.

You tried walking away, to see if it would change something. It didn’t seem like you were moving at all. These dreams were beginning to feel far too organized and vivid to be normal.

“Weird,” you said to no one in particular.

“That’s a little rude,” someone from behind replied. You jumped at the sudden noise, before recognizing who it was from. 

Behind you was the red robot. The same one that talked like the Rock. “Oh, sorry,” you began apologizing. “I wasn’t talking about you. I meant-”

“I was joking,” they interrupted. “What happened last time? One klik, you’re falling through the floor, the next you disappear, and now you’re here again. I didn’t even know you humans could do that.”

“I don’t… know? It might be because I’m dreaming. Albeit, some weird dreams,” you muttered the last bit to yourself.

The robot raised an eyebrow. “Dreaming?”

“The thing that happens when you sleep…?” You suggested, shrinking into a shrug. Seeing the confused look they gave you, you decided to change the subject. “So, what is this place? It seems… spacious. Very unique.”

The robot snorted before their face turned serious. “I don’t know. I thought it was the Well and I just happened to be reliving memories, but you being here goes against that.”

“What’s the Well?” you asked.

“Right, you wouldn’t know since you don’t have a spark.” The robot paused as if they were trying to think of an explanation. “...you know what an afterlife is, right?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“So the Well of the Allspark is the afterlife for my species, which you can only enter if you have a spark. I don’t know how it exactly works, since I’m not a scientist or religious expert, but I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t be here if this is the Well. Though, it’s not like anybody knows what happens in it. This could be a figment of my imagination as I’m dying,” they joked.

You fell silent. “...I’m sorry to hear that.” You settled on saying.

The robot grew quiet, averting their gaze to the area next to you. “Don’t apologize. Your species wasn’t responsible for it.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, trying to think of how to respond. After a minute, your companion let out a huff.

“How about you? What’s your story?” They asked, crouching down to match your eye level. “How’d you get stuck here?”

“...I don’t know,” you admitted. “I think… I’m in a hospital right now? But I don’t really remember why I’m there, so that’s a bit worrying.”

“Scrap. Seems rough.”

You shrugged. “It’s not as bad as it could be. Apparently, I’m healing up fast and I might leave soon. All things considered, that’s pretty good.”

“That’s a surprisingly positive outlook.”

“It could always be worse.”

==

“...What did you say the year was?” You balked. 

Neal, the nurse helping you fill out some forms, raised an eyebrow. “2011? Is there something wrong with that?”

“...Hasn’t it been over a decade since 2011?”

Neal’s other eyebrow decided to join its twin farther up his forehead. He looked down at the form, tapping the pen in his hand against the clipboard. “How about we complete this later? Front desk doesn’t really have this right now, and we can do it when it’s not that late.”

As much as you wanted to confirm that you were right, you had been filling out medical forms for hours. You conceded and watched as Neal left the room, once again being left alone to your own devices. While you probably should have gone to sleep immediately, you kept turning the conversation in your head like it was a puzzle to be picked apart until it was solved.

The calendars that you saw the next day as you went down to your first physical therapy session had not helped.

Chapter Text

“How are you doing that?” the robot asked the next time you saw them. 

“Doing what?”

“Disappearing and reappearing.”

You pointed to yourself, confused. “Am I doing that?”

“No, I’m talking about the other human that occasionally stumbles upon here and talks to me about my memories. Obviously, I’m talking about you.”

“Well how do you know humans can’t do that? How do you know I’m even human?”

“...Are you human?”

You motioned with a wavy hand. “I was, last time I checked.”

“So you’re not aware of it.”

“Nope. Though that could be because I’m pretty sure I’m still dreaming.”

“You’re still going on about that?”

“Considering I only see this place when I go to sleep, yeah. Though, the fact that these are really connected to each other and I’m remembering them when I’m awake probably means these aren’t normal dreams. Of course, the time travel isn’t normal either…” You started, trailing off as you remembered the calendars throughout the hospital.

The robot stared at you. “Time travel,” they stated. You nodded. “How does that happen?” 

You shrugged.

“Well, doesn’t that make things easier,” they muttered under their breath. They sat down in a crossed-legged position, head resting on a clenched fist. “You’re oddly calm about it.”

“I think it just hasn’t set in yet. Besides, I’m already talking to a Transformer in my dreams.” You paused. “Are you a Transformer?”

“I don’t know what that is. What is it?”

“They’re robots that turn into vehicles,” you explained. “They’re part of a really big fictional franchise of the same name. My friend was really into it, and I think it’s pretty popular, but I don’t know much about it.”

The robot frowned. “I’ve never heard of it. Besides, we’re called Cybertronians, and we’re nothing like anything on Earth.”

The term sounded familiar, but you couldn’t place where you heard it. You sat down, and stared into the void. “So, any particular reason why you’re here talking to me, or…?”

”I’d rather be anywhere else for my afterlife,” the transformer deadpanned. “Not that you’re bad company, but this place has nothing. No matter how far or how long you walk, it stays empty. Most I can do around here is  revisit my old memories, regardless of how I feel about them.”

“...Was that city from a while back one of them?”

“Sure. It was… one of the better ones.” 

The two of you sat in silence, looking at a horizon that didn’t exist. You stayed like that with them for a while.

Out of the blue, you decided to ask for the cybertronian’s name. They turned towards you, glowing eyes staring at you curiously. “Why do you want to know?” They asked.

“I never asked before. I think if we do end up seeing each other again, it would be better to know who I’m talking to, y’know?”

They grinned. “Fair enough. Name’s Cliffjumper. What about you?”

==

The room you were sitting in, slightly smaller than the ICU room, seemed like it hadn’t been used in years. Even though the table and chairs were wiped down, there were still large dust particles that were dancing around like snowflakes under the sunlight. The overpowering lemon-lime sanitizer scent was overpowering. 

As the room was illuminated brightly by the rising sun, you had your head down and focused your attention on your ankle. Strapped to it was a large ice bag which hid your foot from your view. You mentally cursed at the 5-pound weight blocking your path back at the rehabilitation center, especially as the needle-like pain around your ankle was beginning to worsen.

Ah well. At least you got out a bit earlier, meaning you could actually think about what you wanted to talk about during this meeting.

You scratched at the cold bandages underneath and the skin surrounding the ice bag. Despite the forming reddish hue, you could barely feel anything in those areas. You stopped picking at it as your hand was starting to feel the same way too.

You heard a knocking at the door. Through its small window, you saw a man on the opposite side. He was wearing an open gray suit with a striped tie sitting cleanly against a crisp dress shirt. Before you could react, the man turned the doorknob and entered the room. In his right hand, there was a large, black suitcase.

Considering that the room was very tucked into the back of the hospital, it was unlikely the man was lost. Despite never seeing or talking to this man in your life, you knew who he was as his description matched the one Neal gave to you just as he was escorting you down here. 

“Agent William Fowler, right?” you asked, putting your leg down on the floor.

“Yes. And you’re the patient that was found in the desert?”

“That’s me, I think.” He sat down on the opposite side of the table.

“There is a lot to discuss here today, all of which revolve around what has happened to you within the past week,” he began. “My job is to find out more about your situation, and how my organization may react to it. All you need to know is that lying will not be in your favor.”

He placed the briefcase onto the table, and, with two satisfying clicks from the metal clamps, he pulled out a stack of papers. You recognized the sheet on top as a photocopied version of the form Neal was filling out several days earlier. However, the sheet was covered in intelligible red markings that reminded you of the corrections your teachers made on your tests. The agent slid it right towards you.

“This is the form that your nurse turned in a couple days ago, correct?” 

You nodded.

“Is the personal information on here what you told the nurse? Address, emergency contacts, phone numbers, and all that?”

“Yes. Is there something wrong with it?” You asked, reading through it once again.

“My team wasn’t able to connect any of this to you.”

Any emotion you had was replaced with shock. You looked at the agent, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Every contact listed here either doesn’t exist, or don’t know who you are.” The agent laced his fingers together and held his hands right over his chin. “Now, I’m not accusing you of anything, but this is highly unusual and concerning.”

You weren’t sure how to react, nor how to respond. You could tell him that you possibly time traveled, but you didn’t know how to prove that without trying to recall huge events that would take days or months to occur.

In your stunned silence, your eyes wandered to the bottom corner of the briefcase. On it was a lettering imprint of the name Unit:E . Not recognizing the name at all, you frowned.

“...Is the team you’re working for called Unit:E?” you asked. 

“That’s rather sudden.”

“I’m aware. At the same time, if everyone I’ve ever known suddenly just disappears or doesn’t recognize me, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to be a little wary of the situation I’m in.”

“I see. Very well. How about I ask you some questions, and I’ll answer as much as I can. I hope we can come across a mutual understanding as a result.”

“...alright then.”

Agent Fowler nodded, before placing his folded hands on the table. “Let’s start with my question. Why can we not find anyone who can vouch for your identity?”

“I don’t know. Are you sure you found nothing when you were searching for information about me?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if we did. Do you at least remember what happened before you were found in the desert?”

You tried to recall what had happened before you were brought to the hospital, as you did you did many times before this conversation. You shook your head. “I remember that I was driving somewhere, but that’s it.”

“Sounds inconvenient.”

“Tell me about it. Can I ask my question?”

“Go ahead.”

“What does the E in your organization stand for?”

“That’s classified.”

“Why? Is your organization involved in any activities related to time travel, or something?”

“...pardon?” The agent responded, a little surprised.

“Nevermind, I shouldn’t have asked that.”

“No, let’s go back to it. Why are you asking about time travel?”

You hesitated. On one hand, you really wanted to know if Unit:E could have a connection to your case. On the other hand, the exact situation you were in was hard for even you to believe in. 

Sensing this, Agent Fowler spoke up. “My team has seen and done a lot that most people will fortunately never have to. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if time travel exists. If anything, it might explain a lot about your situation. Once again, I’ll remind you that lying will not be in your favor.”

That helped. So you began to tell him.

==

Over the last couple of days, you realized you really couldn’t predict what happened after you slept. Sometimes it was a normal nap, with normal musings that you wouldn’t remember. Other times, you’d see Cliffjumper again.

As much as you grew to like him, there were definitely times where you wanted to rest normally. So after you saw the void again, after the hours long conversation with Agent Fowler, you groaned and laid your head back on the ground.

“Nice to see you too,” Cliffjumper greeted, rolling his eyes before sitting down. “Something bad happen today?”

“Not bad, just a conversation on what happens after I leave the hospital. It was a little awkward when I had to explain why I think I time traveled, but it worked out. It was just long. Also found out I don’t exist.” You stretched your arms out until your muscles felt less stiff. “Anything interesting happen to you?”

Cliffjumper let out an amused huff. “Just more memories. One of them was about the time I accused my friend of being a traitor, and then had to convince the whole crew he wasn’t one after finding out he was mind-controlled. It was energon in a hot spot last time I checked, but not my proudest moment.” You tilted your head at that.

You realized you didn’t know much about Cliffjumper. Sure, you knew he was a Cybertronian, you knew some details about his past, but nothing else. The tidbits he offered about what had happened in his life were… interesting, without their contexts. 

“What exactly did you do when you were alive?” you asked as you sat up.

“I never told you?” You shook your head. “I was a soldier.”

He told a little bit about what he did, a little bit about the war he fought in. How it had started on a planet millions of lightyears away, how he and his friends were hiding on Earth before he died.

“I wonder how they’re doing now,” he mused to himself.

You didn’t think he’d appreciate it if you tried to push, but you couldn’t think of a proper response that seemed out of place. As you watched his plastered smile fall off his face, you two lapsed into silence.

==

A week since Agent Fowler’s visit, you had been cleared to leave the hospital. Until the agent’s team could figure out how to respond to your situation, he would help you settle in somewhere.

The day you were set to leave, you woke up with a jolt when a splash of sunlight shone on your face. 

You heard something get placed besides your legs. You noticed that it was very warm and soft. When you reached down to touch it, you realized it was clothing. It felt different from the typical patient wear you had on currently. You looked down and noted that it was a normal and plain set of clothing. By the existence of the tags, you assumed they were brand new. Beside it was a plastic bag filled to the brim.

You looked towards the windowsill, to which you saw Neal standing next to the windowsill with a wide grin brighter than the sunlight coming in. 

“Good morning. How are you feeling?” You gave him a so-so hand gesture before asking him where the clothes came from. 

“Mr. Fowler bought them,” he responded. “Most of the clothes you came in were in less than stellar condition. Of course, if you still want them, they’re in the bag over there. Anyways, Mr. Fowler should be here in several minutes. We should probably meet up with him before then. I’ll be waiting outside while you change, alright?”

You gave him a thumbs up and watched as he left through the door. You let out a roaring yawn before hopping out of the bed and onto your chilled floor. You spent more time ripping off the tags, but you were able to rejoin Neal five minutes later with a bag in your hand. You were feeling freshest since you arrived at the hospital.

“Are you okay with walking down there?” Neal asked.

“Yep. I feel fine.”

“Alright. Don’t hesitate to ask for help if you need it.”

The both of you made your ways downstairs, racing towards the bustling cafeteria. You pulled your shirt over your nose to avoid catching a whiff of anything. It didn’t work as much as you hoped.

“Do you want anything to eat right now?” Neal asked, lingering around the place longer than you thought was possible. “We can stop to get some breakfast if you like.”

You shook your head. “I’ll get something to eat later.”

Eventually, the both of you made it to the receptionist desk. As usual, Neal greeted the woman behind it with a very bright smile. After exchanging some final words, you watched the nurse head down the halls while you waved. Once he was out of sight, you turned towards the receptionist as you were instructed to fill out several forms before you could leave.

They mostly just called for you to read over some things and fill out your name. By the fifth one, the receptionist accepted those forms before typing something at her computer.

“Alright, you’re free to go with Mr. Fowler as soon as he gets here,” she said as she looked at her monitor. “Besides some occasional trips to check up on your health, you’re basically free from here. Congratulations on your recovery!”

You thanked her, before you saw a familiar suit out of the corner of your eye. You turned towards the front door, and you saw Agent Fowler walking in. He looked the same as on the day you first saw him, without the briefcase.

He acknowledged you and the receptionist as he approached. 

“Mr. Fowler! Great timing. Everything that needs to be filled out is already filled out. Both of you are free to go with you as long as you don’t have any questions.”

The agent glanced towards you, and you shook your head.

“I believe both of us are good. Thank you very much for your help.”

“You’re welcome! Have a good day!”

You waved back to her, before seeing Agent Fowler to gesture to you to follow him. You jogged over, and the both of you made it to the parking lot where a black car was sitting. 

Before entering the car, you looked at the town around you. There weren’t many tall buildings around, and you could see the desert from where you stood. You looked at the sand, wondering if you could find where you had been found.

You took a deep breath, savoring the chilled air, listening to the early morning wind.

After entering the car, you buckled your seat belt. As Agent Fowler began driving, your eyes kept following the room that you stayed at. It was hard to believe you had only stayed there for a week and a half. 

There was a lot you didn’t know about your situation, and the many questions you had didn’t have easy or simple answers. 

You were apprehensive about what was to come, unsure about what you could or have to do. But it was still a step closer to finding out what was going on, which was better than nothing.

Chapter Text

“Why am I staying in Jasper?” you asked. The car was turning onto a thinner road surrounded by houses on both sides. “I know it’s near where I was found and all, but it's in the middle of nowhere. Not that that’s bad, but it doesn’t seem to be the most convenient place to relocate somebody.”

“On the contrary, it’s actually easier for me and my team.”

“How so?”

“It’s easier to keep track of someone in the middle of nowhere.” 

As you stared at the passing homes through the window, you tapped against the window switch. The plastic created a very clean clicking sound. The both of you returned to the silence that had lasted the majority of the ride.

Eventually, the car began to slow down in front of a set of salmon buildings similar to that of the desert under a sunset. Agent Fowler parked in front of one of the rectangular buildings jutting in front of the others. He exited the car, gesturing for you to do the same.

You stepped out, stretched your arms, and let out a silent yawn. The warm temperature greeted you. It felt like you were standing next to a preheated oven. You put your arms down when you heard a car door slam behind you. 

The both of you entered the building through a creaky white door that stubbornly stayed open. Inside, there was an opaque green and blue swirl pattern that seemed to cover the floor with white walls that looked like barely frosted cake. Embedded in these walls were two doors with metallic plates reading 44a and 44b with their respective mailboxes next to them. Next to room 44b, there was an unpainted staircase covered with an ugly black rug leading to the second floor. 

You followed the agent as he headed upstairs. The stairs whined and shrieked underneath the weight of both of you. The smell of unpolished wood followed.

“This should be your new apartment,” Agent Fowler said as he pointed to a door labeled 44d, taking out a key from his pants pocket. “Not the fanciest, but suitable for our current needs.”

It was a tiny place, only really suited for one person. It had your bare essential rooms: a kitchen, a bedroom, and a bathroom, as well as several closets placed for your convenience. It looked slightly worse than the pictures that the agent showed you days before, as the furniture you were looking at looked older and dustier. You were also seeing dust and cracks that weren’t noticeable on camera.

“It’ll do,” you said as you headed into the bedroom. There was a small-sized bed frame with a thick, fluffy looking mattress on top. There weren’t any coverings or pillows on it yet, but that didn’t seem to matter as you flung yourself on it. It was still soft enough for you to sink and fall asleep if given the chance. Compared to the hospital beds you had slept in hours before, this was heaven as long as you ignored the dull pain from the injuries on your side.

The agent coughed. “Anyways, there are several things I need to give you before I go.”

As you turned around to face him, the agent reached into his pockets and pulled out a blue credit card. He handed it to you.

“You can use the card to buy anything you need for the time being. There should be enough for essentials and more, but those purchases will be monitored. If, for some reason, you need anything, you can call me. However, I can’t guarantee all of your requests are going to be fulfilled.”

You took it, thanking the agent. “Anything else I need to know or have?”

“A couple more things.” He handed you a silver flip phone and the key. “The phone should have my phone number already, and the keys are self-explanatory. There will be more things coming your way, depending on how things turn out. Any questions?”

You shook your head. “I’m good for now.”

He nodded, before straightening his suit. “Do not hesitate to call me if there are any problems.”

With that, the agent began heading off. You waved to him as he walked downstairs, before returning to the apartment. 

Now that it was quiet, you noticed that you could hear cars driving by on the highway nearby. While quiet, it was somewhat comforting to be able to hear a familiar sound that wasn’t silence.

You placed the items the agent gave you into your pockets, making sure they wouldn’t fall out as you walked. You went to fix yourself up in the bathroom.

Your reflection had looked more tired since the last time you saw them, as they returned the neutral frown you gave them. You shrugged and left the apartment.

==

There weren’t many people out in Jasper at this hour, so it was a lot quieter. Even though you were wandering around town without a map, you still managed to find the stores rather quickly. You expected to get your shopping done in under twenty minutes.

However, as you began surfing through the shelves, you realized that you needed more than just food to last you through the week. So, you began searching for other essentials: shampoo, soap, toothbrush, toothpaste, bandages, and anything else that may be useful. You also bought extra pairs of clothes so you didn’t have to wear the same thing everyday.

Jasper got a lot hotter as the day approached noon. When you burst into the apartment two hours later with armfuls of grocery and plastic bags dangling below, you were sweating heavily with a flushed face. In your pocket sat a new wallet with a card and several crumpled bills in it.

You closed the door with your leg and threw the bags onto the kitchen table that was luckily within a safe throwing range. Once your arms were freed from the plastic weights, you slumped against the front door. You needed a break before you could do anything else.

Instinctively, you reached into your pocket for your phone, hoping to scroll through something to distract yourself. However, where the usual flat, rectangular smartphone would have sat was replaced by a bulkier, pod-shaped object.

The upper lid had screens on both sides, with the outer screen presenting the current time. Still, it was limited in what you could do. It was hard to imagine that a decade ago, these had been the main communication devices everyone used. While you did see some smartphones on your shopping trip, a majority of people you saw were largely using similar models to the flip phone you had in your hand. 

Sighing, you put the phone back in your pocket and rested your head against the door. It was the subtle differences from your time and this time period that were the most jarring. You still were trying to figure out how to react. Jasper Memorial Hospital certainly didn’t have many opportunities that allowed you to get used to it.

Though, if it truly was just time travel, why couldn’t Agent Fowler find anything about you?

You stood up and sighed. You shook your head to shake the wandering thought from your mind. Right now, you had groceries out in the open. You could worry about the details of your situation later.

You began taking out the items from the bags until all you had was a large, crinkly ball of plastic. You tossed it into a drawer next to the sink, to which they separated like a ramen brick in boiling water as soon as they were freed from your grasp. 

The next hour, you walked around the apartment with mountains of items in your hands, threatening to topple every step you took, before unceremoniously throwing them onto the ground and putting them behind any door that wasn’t the front door; the kitchen refrigerator and drawers were filled with foods and cooking utensils that you were definitely going to use during your temporary stay, and the cabinet under the bathroom sink was filled with anything that could reasonably be found in a bathroom. Everything else was haphazardly thrown into the closet in the hall.

Once you were done, you collapsed onto the couch, ignoring the aching singe across your chest. The temptation of rest brushed its hands across your drooping eyes, but you shoved it off as you got up again. Considering that you really only ate several pieces of fruit and nearly spoiled beverages at the hospital, you were definitely going to cook something that wasn't a questionable slop. 

Then, you would take your nap.

==

When your friend asked you to help them move last summer, you had expected to see some boxes of figurines that they collected over the years. 

However, there were more than you had expected. The boxes themselves were already massive as they could barely fit through the door through the apartment. The fact that there were enough boxes that could be stacked  on top of each other to reach the top of the moving truck’s roof was impressive.

“The number of Optimus Primes you have in your collection is worrying,” you noted as you carried another box full of figurines up the flight of stairs. “Knowing how much these suckers cost, I’m starting to think you committed an Optimus Crime to get these.” 

They groaned. “First of all, that was awful. Second, they’re not all Optimus. Besides, some of these are gifts from other people,” your friend retorted ahead of you.

“Still, isn’t it a bit much to have a box full of Optimii?” you asked, taking out one of the freed figures from the box as the both of you reached the third floor. 

“The one you’re holding isn’t even Optimus.” Your friend answered as they opened the door with their foot, revealing a room filled with sitting cardboard boxes that had yet to be open. 

You looked at the green figure in your hand. “Ah, right. I guess this one is just Optimus Lime.”

You laughed as your friend groaned into the box they were carrying.

“If I have to hear one more pun from you, I will revoke your knee privileges,” they threatened, placing the box down onto the table, to which you did the same. 

“And let yourself sort out your own Optimus Grime?”

By the time they turned around, you were already out of the door.

You swiftly descended down the stairs, laughing hysterically as you saw your friend out of the corner of your eye at every turn you made. You could practically hear them breathing right behind you as you were chased towards the moving truck. Yet, just as you were supposed to gently slam into the truck, the half-full streets began to shift.

Just like a tsunami wave, the roads began folding over you, bringing alongside the buildings and apartments into gigantic arches. They were molding together into one solid subject, a dull sheen laying against a duller color and creaking like a rusted bridge. As your eyes followed this transformation, you realized this was mirrored to your other side. 

Suddenly, you tripped. 

You flailed your arms as you fruitlessly tried to balance yourself before your eventual fall onto the floor. Just as you shut your eyes, two pairs of hands caught you. 

They didn’t help you up to your feet. Instead, they dragged you across a metal floor. Their grip felt like they were clawing into your arms, enough to prevent you from escaping even as you tried to shake them off. 

You tried to look at your confiners, but the most you could make out were two tall beings. They blended very well with the dark hallway hanging over and you would have likely not seen them had it not been for the red visors glowing in the dark.

Once again, your body was in pain. However, it was unlike the pain you felt when you first woke up in the hospital. It was almost like you had been in a fist fight, and your opponent just happened to bring a knife.

There was a small, funny feeling in your eyes as well. It felt as if they were pushing into your sockets, like they were broken. The more you blinked, the more they seemed to press deeper into your face.

Your captors dragged you onto a platform which began to rise. You squinted, wincing at the sudden pressure, as you entered a room illuminated by a large magenta overhead light. 

In front of you was the silhouette of a figure, taller than you by at least two times and with wings the size of a fighter jet. They turned around, revealing red eyes that stared down at you, like a cobra waiting to strike. The back of your mind, which felt too distant to be you, thought they looked like a moth with long legs. 

The way that light seemed to bounce off of them made you suspect they might have both been made out of metal. You should have wondered how that worked, but you didn’t.

This was when you realized there were cracks in your vision. Like cracks on glass panes, as the light from the screens behind them were basically dancing into lightning patterns around the edges of your eye. Had your eyes been shattered? It would explain why you could barely see anything at the moment.

You called out a name in a cocky voice that was masking the fear in your chest. Yet, you did not recognize what you had just said, nor the one who was standing in front of you. The voice was not your own, no matter how familiar it was.

You spoke some more. Despite not knowing the language itself, you still understood what had been said. 

“It’s been a while.” You paused to cough. “So, where’s your master?”

The metal moth person had responded quickly. They smirked as they referred to themself as their own master. 

Before you could react or process those words, sharp talons were thrusted into your side.

==

You jumped out of your bed, scanning the room for any signs of those red glaring eyes above you. Your heart was pounding hard and you felt like adrenaline was coursing through your body. Your hand reached to your left side. Even though there weren’t any new injuries there, it took you a moment to recognize you were somewhere completely different.

Right. You were in Jasper, sitting alone in the dark with a near empty room with a bed and a flip phone. Not in the sunny parking lot with a moving truck and helping your friend carry boxes to their new apartment, and not in a gigantic, metallic room with a gigantic robot staring down at you.

You tried to remind yourself that everything was fine, you were alive, while you stared at the dark ceiling. You let out a hesitant breath.

Although you hadn’t slept much, you didn’t feel tired anymore. 

You sighed, shakily, before grabbing your flip phone and hobbling your way to the bathroom. The sudden yellow light blinded you a bit before you could actually see anything, so you squinted at the phone to check the time.

1:00 AM. It matched with it still being dark outside. It would have been less of a problem if you had something to do.

“You know what? How safe is Jasper at night?” You muttered to yourself as you headed back into your room. “It’s a small town. Besides, Agent Fowler says he’s got people watching me. They won’t let me get hurt, right? A walk seems nice.”

You got dressed pretty quickly before heading downstairs. It was way chillier than when the sun was up, but you could deal with it if you walked around enough. 

There was no light besides the ones from the rows of street lamps spread sparsely on the street. As you stalked past them and the houses behind, your steps echoed back to you. 

The moon was barely a sliver in the sky, barely a sickle to cut through the darkness that was around you. The stars around had to work to fill in for that. You could see them twinkling the brighter they shined. 

Maybe you would look at the stars for the next couple of hours, or maybe you would walk around town like an unbound ghost. Just anything that could permanently steer your mind away for a couple more hours.

You walked down the road, hugging yourself tighter against flowing winds that had chilled your fingers and toes. You made a turn down a road, expectedly given the same sights as before.

Around the corner was a purple car at the other end of the street, which slowed to a halt. It was boxy, with odd, linear headlights that shone directly at you. Squinting, you could make out a rear wing on the backside.

As you walked past you couldn’t help looking over your shoulder. The car was still there, on the street, seemingly refusing to move. Only when you got to the other end of the street and made another turn did the vehicle start driving away. 

Quickly, you walked back to your apartment. 

Chapter Text

You flopped back onto the bed, not quite feeling tired. You could blame your heartbeat for that. You still closed your eyes to try and go to sleep anyways. 

Just as you could hear more than blood pumping past your ears, you hear something scratch at your window. From behind your curtains, a beam of shining light flooded your room’s floor with red. 

You slid off your bed, wincing as the floors creaked underneath, and reached to grab your phone, which laid casually on your bedside table. Your limbs felt as if they were turned to plastic as they squeaked when you shuffled towards the window.

Slowly, you brought your hand towards the fabric curtains, lightly gripping it. Though it was cool, you felt yourself sweating. Bracing yourself, you inhaled. 

You ripped the curtains open.

A gigantic helmet, larger than the windowpane, appeared in front of you. It stared at you with a V-shaped bright red visor.

You stumbled backwards, looking upon the metal giant. Your heartbeat in your veins pounded loudly in your ears.

“What the- What are you?” you muttered under your breath.

The being let out a low, gravelly rumble. “Energon signal detected on the human. Waiting for further instructions.”

Who are they talking to?

You gazed at the metal giant in anticipation and bated breath. Though your hands felt like they belonged to a plastic doll, you tentatively pried it open. You cautiously looked at the soft blue light of the screen as you searched for Agent Fowler’s contact number.

Just as your thumb hovered over the dial button, the being made an affirmation to their communicator. A claw, larger than the wall itself and sharper than knives, burst through the window.

Glass flung like sideways rain, and you felt cool metal against your body just before you dodged being grabbed. You looked at the claw, seeing that it lodged itself in the walls of your room.

As quickly as possible, you ran out of the room. You slipped on the wooden floors once, but you frantically got up to hide in a corner of the hallway. Mentally, you chanted a string of curses to drown out your thumping heart.

With shaky hands, you took out your phone and texted Fowler. The walls shook violently as something behind you got crushed. When you glanced back at your room, the claw was loose. It scraped against the floors and walls as it tried to feel where you were, leaving deep scratches into the wood. You hoped you weren't going to be the one paying for the damages.

Realizing that thing could grab you at any moment, you shoved your phone into a pocket and crawled towards the front door. You grabbed your wallet on the kitchen table too as you passed it.

In the main hallway, you quietly tiptoed down the stairs, hoping your steps were as quiet as your pounding ears made them sound. For what felt like hours of descending, you had never been so happy in your life to see a parking lot.

As you pushed open the creaky door, a chill breeze rushed past you. It was silent, and even as you strained your ears, you could not hear any signs of the metal being you saw before.

Walking on the sidewalk, you gazed at the town and the ever-expanding desert in front of you. Goosebumps lined your skin, and you rubbed your hands for heat. You would prefer not to sleep out in the cold for tonight, but you did not have an idea where you could go. 

You heard a car engine from behind. You turned, watching as a green jeep pulled up next to you. Its backseat door swung open, revealing a wave of warm air and black leather seats.

“Get in,” a voice said. You peered into the windows of the front seat, but the tinted glass and the darkness made it impossible to see who was driving.

“Sorry, I don’t get on rides with strangers. Stranger danger, and all that.”

“I’m with Fowler. Your life is in danger if you don’t, and we’re running out of time.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’ll explain later. Right now, I need to get you to a safer place.”

You heard a roar from behind, and when you turned your head, you saw vertical lights shine upon you. A purple car with a boxlike shape barreled towards you at a terrifying speed.

Between getting run over and being kidnapped, you made your choice.

You leaped into the backseat of the jeep. Before you could put on a seatbelt, it sped off. With each sharp turn, you were swung around like a ragdoll in a washing machine. Soon, the buildings of the town disappeared into seas of sand underneath the night sky. As you checked the rear-view window, you saw empty roads behind you.

“Are they gone?” You asked, heart pounding in your chest.

“Don’t think so, but you’ll be safe in here.”

“Huh.” Your eyes flickered towards the front seats, only for you to notice an empty driver’s seat. “What the-”

A roar from your right cut you off, and something rammed into the jeep’s side. Had you not been buckled and strapped in, your entire right side would have been bruised.

“Scrap! Bee! I need back up!”

The jeep returned the gesture to the purple car. Though it faltered, it pushed back, and you were skidding down a rocky, sandy slope. “Slagger!” the voice cursed.

“Where is that even coming from?”

“Later! We’ve gotta go!”

The jeep drove alongside the rocky path. However, it wasn’t as fast as it was on asphalt. Through the windows, you could see vertical lights speeding ahead on the road above. The car turned, and it too was off the road. This time, it was turned towards the car head on.

“Hand over the human, Autobot.” Your eyes narrowed. You glanced towards the radio of the jeep as it seemed to huff.

“What happens if I don’t?”

Two barrels, triangular shaped, emerged from the hood of the car. A glowing charge crackled within the metal. “Then you will die.”

You huddled between the seats and over your legs, moving away from the sides of the door. You shut your eyes tightly.

Two shots were fired. More followed. Soon, metal scratched and latched onto metal, with something being tossed it until you heard dents being formed.

Then, the noise waned, until the loudest thing you heard was the humming of a car driving on a clean road. Tentatively, you opened your eyes.

You could still hear hints of clashing metal, and you saw two large humanoid figures, one yellow, and the other potentially purple, off the road in the distance behind you. Though the darkness made it difficult to see what they were doing, you knew they were fighting. A familiar red visor flashed several times in your direction. There was no trace of a purple car anywhere.

“There is no way any of those things are humans,” you whispered as the fight grew smaller, dipping behind several large rocks alongside the road. 

The voice chuckled. “Don’t worry, the yellow one is a friend of mine. He’ll take care of the Con for the time being.”

You nodded, slumping in your seat as you looked out the window. As time passed, shadows of canyons, cliffs, and mountains appeared next to the lone road you were traveling on. They loomed over the jeep, watching as it drove by.

“Hand over the human, Autobot, ” the words of the car repeated in your mind. The word ‘Autobot’ stuck to you the most. You recognized the name, even though you knew very little about the franchise it originated from. 

Why was Agent Fowler’s team, if the jeep and the yellow car were a part of it, named after a fictional faction? 

Even if you reasoned that the cars were self-driving with cameras and speakers attached, that still didn’t explain the robot that had turned into a purple car.

You glanced cautiously at the radio.

==

It was agreed that you probably shouldn’t return to the apartment for the time being. So, the jeep dropped you off at a motel at the edge of Jasper. It was a small thing, barely two floors tall and barely wider than the dusty parking lot it was connected to. There were two cars parked nearby. The light from the front doors illuminated them. Yet, as you stepped out into the cool night, it was eerily silent.

You looked around at the desert around you, unable to see what was not lit up by the jeep’s front lights. “I wonder if any other cars are going to chase me down later this week,” you said, mostly to yourself.

“They won’t, as long as we’re around.”

The jeep told you to call Agent Fowler if any issues arose. You nodded, thanking the vehicle while watching the car roll out of sight. You walked towards the building.

The main lobby held basic furniture strewn about, some paintings tacked onto a wall, and a couple lamps. There was a distinct smell of chlorine and dust. Aside from you and the receptionist reading a newspaper, the room was devoid from life.

When you approached the desk, the newspaper lowered. On the receptionist’s shirt was the name ‘Paul’ printed on a black name tag.

“Good evening, could I get a room?” you asked, noticing that the clock behind the desk had read 2:32 AM. 

The receptionist glanced at you and his brows furrowed. “What’re you doing this late at night?” he responded, putting aside the newspaper.

“My apartment had some… safety concerns. I’m new in town, so I don’t have any friends to crash at the moment,” you lied.

He sneaked a peek at the parking lot window. “How’d you get here, then?”

“I walked.”

“And those injuries on your arm?”

You blinked, before realizing the receptionist’s gaze directed towards your left arm. You lifted it up, noticing a slew of small scrapes and scratches on it. Some of them stung when you ran a thumb across them.

“These are from a stray cat. I tried to pet it. The cat didn’t like it.”

The receptionist stared at you with suspicion, and you gave him an awkward shrug with a matching smile. The receptionist exhaled.

“Can you pay?” he asked.

You pulled out the blue debit card from your wallet. “Of course.”

“And a valid ID?”

You paused, lowering your wallet in your hand, and frowned. When you were released from the hospital, they didn’t seem like a top priority. Both Agent Fowler and you had thought you were going to stay in Jasper in your temporary apartment for a while. In your defense, neither of you had accounted for a gigantic robot to destroy said apartment.

“I’ll pay double?” you suggested, beads of sweat forming on your head.

The receptionist sighed. “That’ll work.”

When he asked you for basic information, a sigh of relief escaped you.

Very soon, in your hands was a brass key with the number ‘203’ marked on it, and a first-aid kit that you asked for. When you tried to thank the receptionist, he waved it off, reminding you to bring both back before 12 PM.

You raced up a flight of stairs, covered in a dusty green carpet. The floorboards creaked underneath, and you felt if you moved any faster the whole building would crumble.

Passing a line of white, painted doors, you found your key’s room. With a click, it was unlocked, revealing a musty smelling place with a bed covered in white sheets. There was a box TV on a black shelf in a corner. Despite being located in a desert, it was incredibly humid. 

You sat on the bed, placing the first aid kit down next to you. Before you bandaged yourself, you looked at the wall. 

You sighed. “It’ll do.”

Chapter Text

The rest of your night had been relatively calm, as you had rested normally. However, in the morning, as you were getting ready for the day, you were left alone to stew in your thoughts.

There had been a theory bouncing around in your head that time travel wasn’t your only problem after your conversation with Agent Fowler. As ridiculous as it sounded, it seemed that particular theory was getting proven right with each passing day. 

It didn’t explain everything, such as why a purple robot had tried to break into your apartment, or why you were talking to Cliffjumper in your dreams. But, it explained why the Autobots could exist, and why you didn’t. 

You were going to need to ask Cliffjumper a lot of questions the next time you saw him.

Breaking you out of your thoughts, your flip phone rang. After fumbling with the buttons, you answered it. “Hello, Agent Fowler?”

“Are you still at the motel?” The agent asked.

“Yeah, I am. Is everything alright?”

“As well as they can be. I assume you have questions about the events of last night.”  

A bit of an understatement. Gigantic robots turning into cars tend to have that effect.

“For security reasons,” the agent continued, “I won’t be able to say much. All that you need to know is that you are going to need to stay somewhere else for now. While you do have options, they’re more limited in comparison to before.”

“Do I have to choose immediately?” 

“The sooner, the better. However, there is someone who wants to meet with you. You can choose now, of course, but he wanted to talk to you to help give more context on those options. Even if it makes my job harder,” the agent muttered under his breath.

“...Where should I meet him?” 

“Someone will pick you up. Remember the green jeep from yesterday? He’ll meet you in thirty minutes.” 

==

When you went downstairs later, no one else seemed to be at the receptionist desk. However, you could see the green jeep through one of the windows.

Not knowing if the meeting was urgent, you placed the keys and the emergency kit on the table and left the building.

You glanced around at the parking lot while heading towards the jeep. It seemed like most of Jasper was still asleep.

“Good morning,” you greeted as you approached the car. “Thanks, by the way. For last night, and this morning.”

“You’re welcome,” the voice from the jeep responded. The passenger seat door flung open, revealing no one was sitting on the driver’s seat. You got in and buckled your seatbelt. Afterwards, the jeep began driving into the desert.

“Are we going far from town?” you asked, watching the town disappear into the lanes of sand outside the car’s window.

“It’ll only take twenty minutes.” 

The conversation ended there. That was fine, as you were distracted by the driver’s wheel moving on its own.

Now that it was much quieter, or at least more tranquil, than last night, you were beginning to notice things within the car that you hadn’t before. If you rested your head closer to the metal frame, you could hear a slight buzzing reminiscent of electricity. It was layered between small whirls and scratches, similar to what you could hear from a computer monitor. Like there were many computers just within the door itself.

You also realized the car seats, although lined with a leather covering, weren’t made of cloth. While it was malleable, flexible, and not completely smooth, the material seemed to match more to metal. You wondered if you would have seen these details without the context you currently knew.

You leaned back into the seat, staring out the front window on the asphalt road. In comparison to the streets in Jasper, which were graying and cracked, it seemed newer, more intact. It weaved between the large mountains that were growing larger.

Squinting, as the bright light reflected the orange cliffs ahead, you saw that the road seemed to end at the foot of a mountain. There were no other paths, aside from a straight, black line. 

The cliff grew larger, until you weren’t able to see the top of the mountain. The jeep made no sign of stopping or slowing down.

“Are we… going to crash into the mountain?” 

The jeep let out an amused huff. “You’ll see.” Your eyes flickered to the door handle. As your hand reached towards it, the voice spoke up again. “Don’t do that. Trust me, it’ll hurt a lot more.”

Your hand retracted, returning to its original position. Still apprehensive, you gripped the sides of the seat as you shrunk into it, eyes wide as the wall grew larger.

Just before the expected impact, the wall opened.

A rectangular doorway with jagged teeth had revealed a hallway decorated by gray, cement walls. Artificial lights sparsely lining the top lit the prism hallway. It reminded you vaguely of ramps of underground parking lots, or tunnels that ran underneath bodies of water.

You stared out the windows, mostly in surprise, as the jeep spiraled downwards into the tunnel. It opened into a much larger room, one that seemed to fill in the interior of the mountain. 

You could see the ceiling was made out of rock from the mountain. Smaller, man-made structures, made of metal and cement, were embedded into the walls, sometimes lining it. A series of platforms with stairs led up to a octogonal tower at the center of the room. which extended into the ceiling. 

The ground below, a stone gray, had a large insignia on it, more than twice the size of a car. It had the appearance of a rectangular face, with wide eyes, burned into your mind with recognition. Next to this marking was a large, long stone tunnel, lined with metal in the shape of a hoop.

What had caught your eye the most was the three, somewhat translucent, green screens that were placed near the entrance. On a raised platform, the three screens were attached to a stand that made it appear as if they were floating. They displayed diagrams, images, and texts over a ginormous control panel/computer system, which had its own large keyboard that emitted a similar hue. The whole system was as tall as a two story building. On a smaller platform next to it contained a similar, but ten times smaller model that seemed more suited for humans.

Standing next to the keyboard of the computer system, pausing from typing, were two large robots. Cybertronians, your mind supplemented. 

One cybertronian, with red and white plating, stared down at you in disdain with glowing blue eyes similar to Cliffjumper’s. The plating on their forearms was decorated with a human heartbeat, and the red lining on their face gave them the appearance of furrowed eyebrows.

The other, twice as tall as the previous, had red plating on the upper half of their body, which made them appear to have broad shoulders. The deep blue plating on their lower half wrapped around a gray frame and sets of wheels.

“Welcome back, Bulkhead,” this cybertronian had said. “Were you able to locate the human?”

“Sure did, Optimus.”

The jeep opened the door once again. Hesitantly, you stepped out, walking further into the room. Then, you heard a familiar series of whirls and clangs. When you looked back, you saw the vehicle had been replaced with a cybertronian with green plating. As he stepped away from you, the ground seemed to tremble. 

In the presence of these metal titans, you were left speechless, as you were made aware how small you must seem.

Optimus crouched down to better match your height. Despite this, you still had to crane your neck to look back at him.

“Hello. You must be the time traveler.”

Slowly, you nodded. “...Are you the one that wanted to meet me?” you whispered, in awe.

“I am. My name is Optimus Prime. I hoped I could provide context and answers you might have with your situation.”

Optimus Prime, as in the leader of the Autobots. Who, until last week, you had only known as a fictional character. “...I think… I think I need to sit down, first.”

“Very well. There is a couch you may use.” The cybertronian gestured towards the orange chair that seemed to be in the distance. Wordlessly, you let your feet carry you up the stairs.

When you sat down, you felt overwhelmed, unsure how to react. Head in a singular hand, you stared down at the coffee table in front of you. 

This was happening, wasn’t it? Here you were, sitting inside a mountain, surrounded by metal titans, in an alternate universe, time traveled to more than a decade in the past. What was going to be next?

You took a deep breath in, and exhaled a long sigh. Then, you turned towards Optimus Prime. “...What is this place? Who are all of you?” You began.

"We are the Autobots, Autonomous Robots originating from the planet Cybertron. Our primary mission is to protect the Earth and humanity from whatever harm may arise, while remaining undercover. You are currently in Autobot Base Omega One. The mech that brought you here is Bulkhead. The mech standing beside me is our Chief Medical Officer, Ratchet. There are other members of our team who are occupied with other matters, but you may meet them eventually.”

“Nice to meet you,” Bulkhead greeted. Ratchet huffed, with a brief nod of acknowledgement, before giving a pointed look at Optimus. The medic turned back to the computer system afterwards.

“...Nice to meet you all,” you settled on. “Why was I brought here, of all places?”

“We have reason to believe your situation, as detailed by Agent Fowler, may be connected to our actions. Our enemies were able to track you down as you have been emitting an energon signal, which should only have pertained to our species. For your safety, and our own, Agent Fowler and I agreed it would be best if you remained somewhere more secure in the future. One of the locations I had proposed for you to stay in would be the Autobot base. This way, not only would you be kept under careful eye, there would be opportunities to fully understand your situation, as you’ve detailed to Agent Fowler. Of course, if that is not satisfactory, you have the option to be located elsewhere.”

“...That’s a lot to offer to someone you don’t know much about.”

“A concern that I have been made well aware of,” Optimus stated. “However, the observations of my team over the weeks have concluded this may be the better option. Additionally, it is our duty to keep your kind out of harm’s way, especially when we may have been responsible for it.”

“...I see.” 

“While I hate to cut this conversation short,” Ratchet interrupted, “Arcee and Bumblebee are nearly done with their patrol. The groundbridge for yours is ready.”

Optimus nodded. “Thank you, Ratchet,” he stated, before turning towards you once again. “I will be occupied for several Earth hours. In the meantime, you may stay at the base while you make your decision. Feel free to take your time in making your decision.”

He made his way to the massive stone tunnel. Ratchet pulled down on a lever, and suddenly, a massive green vortex, spiraling into a white eye, appeared. 

It’s hard to describe how it looked when Optimus walked through the portal. One minute, he was standing there. The other, he disappeared behind a white curtain of light. Your eyes narrowed as it reminded you of the void.

When Optimus had gone through, Ratchet lifted the switch back up.

“What is that?” you asked out loud.

“It’s a groundbridge,” Bulkhead responded. “It helps us get to places around the planet faster. Cool, right?”

“How does it work?” 

“You’re going to have to ask Ratchet about that. I’m not much of an engineer.” Ratchet seemed to be focused on something else entirely, glaring at the screen. It was probably best to save your questions until the medic was in a better mood.

Across from you, you noticed there was a flat screen TV. It was small, the size of a computer monitor screen, and it was sitting on top of a cabinet that housed a video game console with several CD cases next to it.

You stood up from the couch and walked over to the cabinet to look at the library cases more closely. Most of them were racing games, though there were some popular games that you recognized. You reached to grab one of the cases, opening it. The disk inside was slightly scratched.

“Are there other humans staying here?” you asked, looking back up at Bulkhead. 

“Sometimes Fowler does. There’s also the-”

“Only Agent Fowler stays when he has business here. Even then, he rarely does so,” Ratchet interrupted. The medic gave Bulkhead a stern glance, before looking back at the computer.

You put the disk back into the case, snapping it closed. “...I didn’t know he enjoyed video games.”

From the tunnel that you arrived in, you heard the rumblings of two vehicles echoing throughout the room. The source came from a yellow camaro and blue motorcycle that drove into the room. 

Immediately, as they stopped, they transformed into two different cybertronians, one with yellow plating and the other with blue plating, who was significantly shorter than everybody else. The yellow cybetronian’s doors became wing shaped, and large, circular blue eyes widened upon noticing you. The blue cybertronian tilted a head back, glancing at you with curiosity. 

“Hi,” you said. “Are you two the others that Optimus mentioned?”

“Sure are,” the blue cybertronian said. “I’m Arcee. The one next to me is Bumblebee.” Bumblebee beeped, with chirps that sounded like electric buzzing, while waving enthusiastically back at you. 

You waved back. “It’s nice to meet you two.” 

Bumblebee chirped something at the other bots. “No, they haven’t made a decision yet,” Ratchet responded. “I’m busy at the moment. I would prefer if you kept your greetings and conversations on the quieter side.”

“How about we show them around the base then?” Bulkhead proposed. “It’ll give Ratchet space to work.

Arced shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind. Anyone object?”

The medic huffed. “Just don’t let them touch something important.”

The four of you began to walk further into the room. The cybertronians slowed down their walking pace, but you still had to lightly jog to keep up with their long strides.

“Am I imposing on anything by being here?” you asked as you thought you were out of earshot of the medic.

“Ratchet likes being cranky when there’s someone new at the base. That’s just how he is. I wouldn’t worry about it,” Arcee responded. 

“Still, if it bothers him that much, I don’t have to stay here. Optimus did say I have other options.”

“As long as you’re not secretly with MECH, it’s fine with us,” Bulkhead stated, just as you began to walk into a large hall. The mountain’s interior was completely covered, with many catwalks, pipes, and large wires lining cement walls. “This is our main hall. All of us living quarters here to recharge. It’s also a storage unit for a bunch of stuff, with training rooms around the corner. I think that room over there is where Fowler stays when he has to stay for longer periods of time.” Bulkhead pointed to a metal door that seemed to blend in with its surroundings. 

“There’s another room like it on the opposite side,” Arcee said, pointing to another door several feet away. “If you’re staying with us, you’ll be staying there.”

“Can I see it?”

“If the door still opens.”

Fortunately, it did. It stuttered as you pushed against it, as a barrage of dust that flew out of the doorway. 

The room was small, hardly large enough to stuff a small bed and a cabinet, as its width was the same as your height. It also looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. The light didn’t even turn on when you flicked the switch.

Your nose scrunched at the loose dust in the air.

“There’s a lot of human stuff in your base,” you noted.

“It used to belong humans. We’re repurposing. We don’t exactly have the resources to clear a mountain by ourselves,” Arcee explained.

“Would’ve been fun if we did,” Bulkhead mused.

Beside an old mattress, the bed was bare. The metal frame’s connecting joints had layers of rust. When you pushed against it with your hand, it sagged and creaked loudly.

Bumblebee buzzed a question.

“We couldn’t find other rooms for humans,” Bulkhead explained to him. “Though, you could be right about the rust.”

“Does rust affect humans a lot?” Arcee asked.

“It probably wouldn’t be ideal to be around it, but it’s probably not that bad.” You sat down on the bed. “This bed would need to be replaced if I stay here.”

Bumblebee chirped once again, almost bouncing as if he had an idea. As the cybertronians seemed to converse amongst themselves more, discussing which other rooms were available, you fell silent.

A wave of apprehension overcame you. With the speed of everything that had happened in the past day, you had only just begun to process it.

Somehow, you had found yourself in an alternate universe where gigantic transforming robots existed. Your friends and family were suddenly gone. You didn’t know why you were here. You knew you weren’t supposed to be here,

Your eyes felt hot, stinging with tears that were building underneath your eyelids. You felt like the ground beneath your feet could shatter at any moment, that you could topple over if you weren’t careful. Every breath you made felt like it was inhaling sand. The lump in your throat began to grow bigger.

Bumblebee seemed to notice first. Bulkhead asked if you were alright. Your hands hid your face, and you hunched over your knees as you shook your head.

Chapter Text

Ratchet had been wary of letting the human into the base. If Team Prime had learned anything with their interactions with MECH, it was that humans were not to be underestimated.

However, Optimus deemed it necessary as soon as the Decepticons began being drawn to Jasper because of the human’s energon signal. Although he didn’t disagree with the assessment, the medic was not fond of having to worry about the wellbeing of another human.

Additionally, that human was an anomaly. The lack of information Unit: E was able to find on them was concerning, to say the least. Even with Cybertronian interference at play, humans don’t just appear from nowhere and claim they time travel.

The other bots could say he was being overly cautious; Ratchet was fine keeping his distance if it meant preserving the wellbeing of his team and ensuring their victory against the Decepticons.

While Optimus was on patrol to investigate an energon signal, and the other three busy trying to get the human acclimated to the base, Ratchet was busy conducting maintenance checks on the groundbridge, and whatever needed to be taken care.

As he was calculating the amount of energon they would need to power the bridge next month, Bumblebee sent him a comm.

::Is it normal for humans to have leaking optics?::

::Just because we share a significant number of similarities to humans does not mean my medical knowledge can be applied to them.:: He paused. ::…What happened?::

::I don’t know!:: The scout panicked. ::One klik, the human’s fine, then the next they’re holding their head in their hands! There’s water coming from their optics!::

::Eyes,:: The medic corrected. ::They were probably just crying, which is a normal function amongst humans, whether it’s to rid irritants from their eyes or in response to positive or negative emotions.:: At the scout’s silence, he rolled his optics. ::Just because I don’t know everything does not mean I know nothing. I wouldn’t be surprised if the dust built up in that room was the cause. They shouldn’t stay in there for too long.::

Ratchet heard Bumblebee relay his instructions to the other bots, and the bots trying to coax the human out of the room from around the corridor. Due to how the base was made, conversations in the halls often echoed into the main room.

That seemed to have worked, as he saw the human walking amongst the bots as they returned to the central control room several minutes later. Their hands went to the sides of their eyes to wipe away any lingering water droplets from the sides of their eyes.

They looked worse for wear, much more tired than they had when they first arrived on the base. Not that Ratchet was concerned, but he knew dust, particularly the kind found in that room, should not have that effect on humans within less than an hour.

Ratchet’s optics flicked towards the three bots giving a questioning glance. Before he could reopen the comm line, a message from Optimus came through to the base’s central computer. With it, a visual feed of several large blue crystals climbing from the ground of a cave.

“Optimus to base,” the Prime spoke, as he sent over his coordinates. “I believe I have found an energon deposit. I will need assistance to transport it back to the base.”

Immediately, the medic began to prepare a groundbridge. “All three of you, go assist Optimus. The sooner we get the energon into the base, the less likely we’ll have to interact with the Decepticons.”

“On it,” Arcee said, immediately, transforming into her altmode. “We’re on our way, Optimus.” Bulkhead followed her afterwards.

Bumblebee hesitated, looking at the human. He was about to say something, before remembering that they probably wouldn’t understand him. He glanced at Ratchet.

“You’ll take care of them, right?” The scout said.

 “Yes, yes, I’ll make sure the human’s still alive when you all get back. Now go. Optimus is waiting,” he grumbled, shooing the scout towards the groundbridge.

This reassured Bumblebee enough to change into his altmode. He revved up the motors to catch up with the rest of the team. Once his signal appeared on the radar, Ratchet felt his plates tense up. His optics darted between various sensors, keeping track of any suspicious movements or stray signals that did not belong to the Autobots.

Logically, he knew that if the Decepticons were to attack, they would have used cloaking technology to avoid detection. The base would most likely be the last to find out. That was why, when larger energon deposits were found nowadays, more than two bots had to be present during its retrieval.

But Ratchet was not a patient mech. He found it never hurt to check anyways, in case it was needed. Besides, it was better than just standing around with idle servos, and constantly watching the human standing beside him.

==

Bumblebee came back first, with an armful of blue crystals. He cheered, with whooping mechanical calls, before placing the crystals on the ground and racing back out.

You approached them, leaning over to get a closer look. Though bits of dull rock were still stuck to them, the crystals continued to glow bright enough to light the surrounding ground a vibrant blue.

Energon, you had heard Ratchet call them. It seemed important, but what exactly was it?

“Don’t,” Ratchet warned, just before you were about to pick up a small piece. “We might not know the exact effects of direct energon contact with humans, but I am not willing to find out today. Now stay on top of a platform, unless you want to get accidentally squished.”

Sensing the medic’s growing irritation, you complied, walking back up the flight of stairs. However, you continued to lean over the railings to look at what was on the screens of the computer that Ratchet was working on. The language it projected was not one you recognized.

The medic seemed to scroll through the same diagrams and charts over again. One of which was a huge map of the world, with various signals that seemed to appear. Each of them had varying degrees of intensity.

A few minutes later, you saw Bulkhead and Arcee emerge from the ground bridge in their vehicle modes. Just as they returned to their robot forms, Bulkhead laughed out loud.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had this big of a haul,” he cheered. “And to not meet any ‘Cons while we’re at it? Today must be our lucky day.”

Soon afterwards, a red Peterbilt truck came through, with a blue trailer full of energon. Bumblebee, as a yellow Camaro, followed beside the vehicle. The other bots began removing the energon from the trailer. When the last bits were removed, Optimus transformed back, towering over everybody else, before picking up the energon from the ground.

“Should we just put this in the distillation room, Ratchet?” Arcee asked, carefully picking up the smaller shards of energon.

“Yes, into the distillation room. Who’s on distillation duty this time? The sooner we can purify the energon, the sooner it’ll be of more use.”

“I believe it is my turn. It may be best if I were to talk with our guest, in the meantime,” Optimus responded, letting his gaze drift towards you. The other three bots headed back into the corridor. You could hear them talk animatedly amongst themselves, with Arcee suggesting to practice sparring in the training room.

“Refuel first!” Ratchet called out to them, before looking pointedly at Optimus. “Are you sure you don’t want to switch shifts with anybody just for today?”

“It would be unfair for me to relinquish my responsibilities, particularly with our team’s current size.”

The medic glanced down at you. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said to Optimus, before returning to the computer.

The Autobot leader didn’t respond, aside from gesturing you to follow. Hesitantly, you began going down the stairs, trailing next to Optimus. Despite his long strides, he made sure to walk slow enough that you didn’t need to jog to catch up to him.

“I have been informed we might have caused harm to you, albeit accidentally,” he apologized as reentered the corridor. “Though it was not our intention, we will be sure to rectify this mistake on our part by finding a tidier room.” Confused, you looked up at Optimus.

“I don’t remember getting hurt?”

“Arcee had told me that you were showing increased amounts of distress when you entered the room. We were not aware of the impacts of dust on humans, but our ignorance is not an excuse.”

“What does dust have to…” Then, you remembered what had happened in the room in the hallway. “Oh, no, it’s fine! The room’s fine. It’s dusty, but that wasn’t the reason why I was… Anyways, I’m fine now. I didn’t mean to make any of you worried,” you frantically reassured the leader.

“Regardless, I do not hope for this base to become an additional source of duress for you. If there is anything we may do, do not hesitate to inform us.” The large bot continued to walk down the hall, turning at the very end to an open room.

It was lit with a bright light, and a of blue glowing cubes on its walls.  In the center was a large machine, which was constantly rotating and creaking from pistons constantly moving. The room itself was warm, padded with a lining that contained the heat to within the room, which large, metal crates rested upon. Next to the machine was a stack of energon crystals.

“This is our designated distillation room. We process and purify emerging here to make it more fuel efficient for ourselves and our equipment,” Optimus presented. “During my shift, we will not be interrupted. You may ask any question and I will do my best to answer to the best of my ability.”

Optimus crouched to enter the room. As he placed the crystals in his hands into his pile, you could hear his metal plating brush against the roof. Despite the room’s width, it was not tall enough for him to stand up straight without bumping his head.

“Is it… safe for me to be in here?” You lingered by the doorway. “I think Ratchet mentioned this stuff isn’t safe for humans to be around.”

“While direct contact with energon is suspected to be dangerous for humans, being in its proximity should not have any effect. There are many areas in the room where energon has not touched at all. If it makes you feel more comfortable, you may stay by the doorway. I will be able to hear you wherever you choose to be.”

You leaned against the entrance, crossing your arms. “I think I’ll stay here, then.” Optimus nodded, before he began grabbing one of the crystals and placing it inside one of the openings of the machine. Afterwards, he grabbed an empty clear capsule, shaped like a cube, from a crate inside the room, attaching it to a long tube. You could hear crackling as the machine gnawed at the rocks.

“What exactly is energon?” you asked first, watching as a blue liquid began filling the capsule. “You mentioned something about how I was giving off an ‘energon signal’ earlier, and it seems pretty important to you all.”

“That is because it does not originate from Earth. It is the lifeblood of our homeworld, Cybertron. It is not only our power, but our primary fuel source. This machine helps distill the crystal forms of energon into a more purified liquid that we and our tools can process easier,” Optimus explained.

“Ah, so then it’s not something humans should have normally.” Optimus nodded. You scratched the back of your neck. “That’s… not going to cause me problems in the future, is it?”

“Hopefully, there is no long lasting consequence to your wellbeing. But your health would need to be monitored, just in case.”

“Oh. I… see. Are there tools for that?”

“We have several at the base we may refit for that purpose.”

“Would I have to stay at the base to use them?”

”While we prefer to keep our technology within our premises, if you choose to stay elsewhere, we would not be opposed to lending you something.”

You stared as the liquid in the machine continued to fill up the capsule, illuminating a blue glow that reflected onto Optimus’s face. “…So, if energon is the lifeblood of your planet, how did it get here, on Earth?” You asked.

“Cybertronians have long been traveling through space for many millenia. We had hidden energon deposits on various planets in the midst of wars, in the event they would be needed. During our stay on Earth, they have proven to be extremely beneficial.” Just as the capsule was filled, Optimus turned off the machine. He took the capsule and placed it on top of the stacks of blue cubes. He attached another empty capsule, before turning the machine back on. “Only a select few humans know about its existence, one of which is Agent Fowler himself. You would be considered amongst them as well.”

You looked at the stack. Rows and rows of empty capsules reached for the ceiling, but the amount that was filled barely covered a corner of the room. You didn’t know what the average intake of energon was for a cybertronian, but if everything in this base ran on it, it didn’t seem like there was a lot. “…Earlier, you mentioned that the Earth was in danger. Does it have to do with the energon deposits?” 

Optimus didn’t respond immediately, instead letting his eyes drop towards the machine. It stuttered, as the flow of purified energon had stopped. Wordlessly, he grabbed more energon and dropped it into the opening.

“For the past hundred millenia, cybertronians have been engaged in a civil war, and while our limited energon has certainly heightened the conflict, it is not the main driving force for it,” he began. “The war started as a means to combat the injustices that many cybertronians faced under the ruling council. But many things have changed since then, and due to our actions, and perhaps my own inaction, the war has grown to where it has suffocated and killed our planet. Since then, we’ve been stranded amongst the stars, and the fighting has found its way to other planets, the most recent of which is Earth. Our enemies, the Decepticons, have stopped at nothing to win this war, even if it meant tearing up planets regardless of their inhabitants. Having already lost our homeworld, this is something we, as the Autobots, cannot let stand. While we do our best to protect your home, there is still much to be done to prevent it from danger.”

The thought of a war that was larger and older than humanity itself was not a pleasant one. Though you remembered, mildly, aspects of the franchise that touched upon the conflicts between the Autobots and the Decepticons, the added complexity from the few details that Optimus provided made it uncomfortably complicated.

What did he mean by his inaction? Of how the war started fighting against an unjust council? Were the Autobots on their side? Or against it?

“…How many humans know about this?” You asked quietly, reeling at the line of questions in your mind that were beginning to shake your understanding of this world. 

“Few. It is for the benefit of humanity, and for those that remain of our kind.”

Knowing how humans could be, you could understand. Except the fact that you now knew, too. “Then, why tell me? Why not just leave my whole thing to Agent Fowler?”

“There is the concern with what would likely happen if this matter was left solely to human jurisdiction. Agent Fowler may be a great ally, I am wary of the tactics of his leaders. They would have deemed it necessary to keep you somewhere more isolated under constant surveillance, likely without telling you anything. As this matter is already related to cybertronians, I want to offer another option where you are more informed and less contained.”

“To be honest, both of those choices seem the same, besides the fact that if I stay here at this base, I’m going to be constantly reminded that the Earth is in danger.” 

“Our options are rather limited as the circumstances are not ideal. However, I promise that under our care, we will do our best to make sure no further harm may occur to you, and even attempt to find a way for you to return to your time.”

Eyes closed, you continued to think. “…let’s suppose I do accept your offer and stay at this base. What would be in it for you? While I don’t know much about anything related to all of this,” you punctuated by waving a hand around, “It seems very risky to give resources to a complete stranger.”

Another chunk of energon went into the machine, and another capsule was placed onto the towering stack. “In our experience, we have found humans to be trustworthy allies. Additionally, if we are able to understand how you came here, we would have more knowledge to be used for our benefit in the future. At the bare minimum, helping another is worth offering our resources for.”

It was a lot of trust to put in a stranger, particularly when they hadn’t known much about you. He was also asking you to place a lot of trust in them. The only reason why you were considering it is because you had the vague assumption that the Autobots were generally the good guys in most universes.

But, could you really trust the Autobots? Was it the right decision on Optimus’ part to extend help to a complete stranger, especially when the fate of a planet and his kind were at stake? Was there even a right choice here?

“This is a huge gamble to make, particularly for what’s on the line,” you reiterated. “How do you know I’m not secretly working with the Decepto-whatevers, or I’m not doing this for an ulterior motive that could be worse than whatever they’re doing?” 

“Would you?”

“Would it matter? Humans might not be made of metal, but that doesn’t mean we’re incapable of doing terrible things.”

Amused, Optimus fed the machine the last specks of the energon crystals. “It would not be fair to cast suspicion on someone who has yet to do anything. I would rather we helped a potential enemy than ignore a potential ally.”

“Hm.” You watched as the Autobot leader turn off the machine one last time, taking the final filled capsule into his hands. He walked out of the room, letting himself stretch to his full height.

“Ratchet is currently performing a maintenance check on the groundbridge. He is requesting an energon cube to refuel it. You may accompany me back to the main room, if you wish.”

“…Sure,” you said. Your eyes stayed more focused on the ground ahead, while you heard Ratchet grumbling to himself in the distance. A metal pop was heard afterwards. Then, you stopped. “Wait, how did you know what Ratchet needs? I didn’t hear him say anything at all.”

…Optimus Prime wasn’t a telepath, was he?

“The benefits of being Cybertronian is instantaneous communication between each other, should we choose,” Optimus responded. Immediately, you sighed in relief.  

“…how does that work?” You asked.

“I believe that is Ratchet’s expertise. If you’re interested, he may provide a more in-depth explanation to our internal comm systems.”

You considered it. Though, you would have to muster the courage to speak to the stern medic first.

==

You sat on the orange couch, mindlessly opening and closing a DVD case. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see your reflection on the TV do the same. Their eyes seemed to trail across the various corners of the screen, before settling on the plastic box in your hands.

Aside from some light conversation between Ratchet and Optimus, who both seemed busy from what you saw in their reflections, the entire base was silent. Except for the click and clack of the case, like a counting clock, as you mulled over your choices.

Clack, the plastic box would say when you closed it.

You could either pretend nothing is wrong, throw your hands up, and go to who knows where for who knows how long. It’d save you the time and energy from what was likely to come if you stayed at the Autobot base.

Click, the box called when it popped opened

You could also stay here, knowing everything isn’t alright, and stay here under the careful watch of metal robot titans that came from space. At least then you could come closer to a truth, make the ‘right’ choices, know more about this world you had found yourself in.

Clack.

Surprisingly, the first had more certainty than the other, but the second had the alluring appeal that you could potentially fight whoever or whatever got you here in the first place.

Click.

You were hesitant to choose anything. As exciting as gigantic space robots were, you had known enough to be cautious of the consequences of your actions.

Clack.

It wasn’t just your life that could be impacted if you chose to stay with the Autobots, it was an entire planet’s. It might not have been your own, but it was familiar enough that you felt responsible for its well-being. If something happened to the Autobots while they were protecting you, the Earth would be put at a significantly larger risk.

Click.

But, if you didn’t, you were practically giving up on a way of going home. Like you weren’t going to at least try to find your way back to your friends or your family.

Snap, the box shouted when you shut it for the last time.

Gently, with numb thumbs, you placed the DVD case back onto the coffee table.

Your eyes flickered towards the TV. Your reflection stared back, determined, and ready with a confidence you were beginning to feel.

You placed your hands on your knees, and stood up.

Would you regret what you were about to say? Would it have been better if you had chosen something else? You didn’t know.

The words that would leave your mouth would not be able to answer everything. But, it would give you a path forward. What was the point of judging something that had yet to pass, when you did not have much to lose?

One last glance at your reflection, and you turned around. At your movement, both Optimus Prime and Ratchet looked at you. Voice steady, eyes forward, you spoke.

Chapter Text

After you made your decision, dread had time to settle in. Your mind was plagued with doubts and uncertainties. 

The exact logistics about how you were going to stay at the base seemed…messy. How were you going to get necessities, and would you be required to get a job? While Agent Fowler gave you funds, you weren’t sure if there was a time limit for how long you’d have them. 

Additionally, what exactly were you expected to do around here? Surely, you couldn’t just lounge around and watch the Autobots do their things all of the time, right?

Your stomach gracefully gave you a reminder that you had yet to eat today. Small steps, then, you decided. “Would it be possible for me to get some stuff from Jasper?” 

“Absolutely not,” Ratchet immediately replied. “Unless we want a repeat of last night, and reveal our location, under no circumstance should you be allowed out of the base.”

“Is there something from Jasper you may need?” Optimus asked.

“…There’s some stuff back at the apartment I might need. I’m also pretty hungry.”

You saw Ratchet cross his arms out of the corner of your eye. He scowled at the Autobot leader. 

Optimus simply looked at the medic. “The energon signal only appeared at night. Even then, it is possible to temporarily block the signal. If they’re with an Autobot, they may be able to grab the items they need without much trouble. Would that be unreasonable, old friend?”

After a minute of staring, with Ratchet glaring and Optimus responding with placating eyes, the medic sighed. “…I’ll see what I can do.” He walked back to the operator system. From underneath it, Ratchet pulled a slew of devices and tools, all of which look cobbled together from random bits of Earth technology from over the decades. 

You murmured a thanks, which went unheard over the sounds of electric buzzing and random sparks from the workbench. 

With nothing better to do, you excused yourself to look for cleaning supplies.

The Autobots had repurposed most of the rooms in the base for their purposes. Even in areas that were human-sized, in a room that seemed like it once would have been a kitchen, the countertops were practically ripped off the wall. The only thing left in there was a fridge, somewhat intact, what remained of an oven that refused to open, and a bare sink. Somehow, despite the crusty layer built on the metal surface, there was still a constant water flow.

Yet, there were also rooms that, while not in the best of conditions, seemed like they had been used recently. One of which was a closet near the main room, which housed a bunch of cleaning supplies. The mop was still damp, and a bucket still had droplets of water.

Wordlessly, you loaded the bucket with cleaning rags, soaps, and brushes. You hoisted a mop and a broom over your shoulder, before placing them by the room. 

You pulled out the bed frame and the cabinet, both of which tracked dust into the halls. Shards of rust could be seen too. While small, they had a distinct color against the grey dust. You swept them into a dustpan. Then, for the next couple of hours, you began scrubbing down the walls, wiping away the years of grime from the corners.

When the fibers of the rags were entrenched with dust particles, and the gray sludge in the bucket could not be tainted any more, you sat down on the floor. Your limbs were sore, and you were feeling tired. However, the room was far from pristine.

Mentally, you made a list of everything that you could possibly need, and where you’d get them. Everything in the apartment, like pots and pans, plates and utensils could be reused here. But you would need to buy a portable stove for most of your cooking. Replacement light bulbs for the room, and potentially a new bed, were also on that growing shopping list. A notebook, to keep track of your thoughts, would probably be helpful as well. 

With a sigh, you lifted the bucket from the floor, tossing in the dirty rags, and rested the mop on your shoulder. You headed back towards the sink, shuffling on you way to make sure none of the drops spilled onto the floor. 

As you walked into the central room, you glanced at Ratchet’s workbench. The medic barely paid any attention to you.

You found yourself stopping, watching as the bot’s gray hands carved out a flat section of metal from a sheet, most of which were smaller than your hand. Despite this, each piece came off cleanly, as Ratchet continued to build a small device from the bits of wire and hardware strewn on the desk. 

Every move the medic made as he assembled the parts was elegant. His hands stayed firm, unafraid to mold wires, bend parts into shapes to fit together. Yet, he remained gentle, allowing bits and parts to clip together in harmony. The complaining in your arms seemed to die as you continued to be entranced by his craftsmanship, as he turned an open plate into a neat box.

Ratchet picked up the device, examining it, before he noticed you were staring at him. He made a sound similar to clearing his throat. “Is there something wrong?” the medic asked.

Snapping out of your trance, you stammered. “Oh, uh, no, nothing, sorry. I was just… it was just cool to see you work. I’ll get out of your hair.” You briskly walked into the hall, wincing at the suddenly sloshing water. Some globs jumped out of the bucket, landing on the floor. You became very aware of the pair of blue eyes watching you scuttle into the kitchen.

As you were wringing out rags and refilling the bucket, it felt strange. Something about the mundane task felt less normal, considering the circumstances. You tossed the last of the rags into the bucket and stared at the ripples of water.

You weren’t sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing. You hoped it wasn’t the latter.

==

When you returned to the main room with a fresh bucket of water and clean, wrung rags, you saw Bumblebee and Optimus walking from the hall. Immediately, Bumblebee waved. You couldn’t help but smile and wave back.

“Bumblebee has agreed to take you to Jasper to retrieve your things, whenever you’re ready,” Optimus had said, gesturing to the yellow cybertronian.

You placed the bucket down against a wall. “I think I can go right now. Is there anything I should know, or do, beforehand?”

“Here,” Ratchet said. Then, something was tossed towards you. It bounced on your fingertips, before resting in your palm. The object had been a small box, small enough to hide in your hands. Though it was light, the casing was made from metal. It was painted with a dark color.

“What is it?” you asked, rotating the box along its seams, feeling the minute creases that the welds tried to hide.

“A signal dampener. Keep it on you.”

You stuffed it into a pocket. “Thanks, Ratchet.” The medic huffed, focusing his attention elsewhere.  

You heard Bumblebee speak. Optimus translated. “Bumblebee asked if you were ready to go.” After checking your pockets, and confirming your wallet and your phone were there, you gave a thumbs up.

The fluidity of Bumblebee’s transformation, as his wings turned into car doors, and his wheels reformed from parts of his limbs, of complex machinery that interlocked into a yellow camaro in front of you, made you stare in awe. 

The passenger’s side of the door opened, lifting up, and two car honks beckoned you to hop in. You complied, buckling in your seatbelt as you sat down.

As Bumblebee drove back into the tunnel, you took time to admire his interior. The dashboard was lined with electric blue lights, with buttons, vents, and the lights underneath the seat were all shining a matching blue. A touchscreen, of a familiar green hue, sat in the middle. The air conditioner was on, and everything was sleek and clean. 

“So cool,” you breathed out, beaming. Soon, Bumblebee was out of the base, driving onto the wide open road. 

You sat quietly, watching the desert outside as the cybertronian drove past cacti and rock structures.

It was surprisingly pleasant, with the morning sun peering high in the sky and shining into the car.

The silence was broken from a series of beeps by Bumblebee. Then, your phone buzzed from a text belonging to an unknown number.

‘Sorry, just realized there wasn’t anybody around to help translate. Do you mind if I put on the radio? I think my favorite band is playing right now.’

You stared at the text, and held it up to show the radio. “Hey, Bumblebee, this is you, right?” 

Another text came through. ‘Whoops! Yep, it’s me, Bumblebee. Also, that’s not where my optics are.’

“Ah, sorry about that. How did you get my phone number? Also, feel free to play anything you want.” Eagerly, Bumblebee turned up the volume on a pre-set station. An electric guitar shred shook the sides of the car. You blinked in surprise, while the volume begin to lower slightly.

‘Whoops. Forgot that was turned up all the way,’ Bumblebee apologized. ‘Anyways, I got your phone number from our database. Most of our information for human contacts is in there. Yours included.’

You scratched the back of your neck. “Is that so?” In retrospect, it made sense as Agent Fowler had given you the phone. Though, you were beginning to wonder what the Autobots had on file about you. 

‘Once this song is over, I can put on a channel you’d like,’ Bumblebee offered.

You shook your head. “Nah, it’s cool. Drivers should get to choose what they listen to. By the way, do you prefer if I communicate with by talking or texting?”

‘Both are fine by me.’

To let the Cybertronian listen to his song fully, you decided to message him back.

‘youre a metal fan?’

‘Yeah! This one is from my favorite band, Rear Axle. Have you heard of them?’

‘i have not. the song seems fun. i think ill check them out’

‘You can borrow some of my CDs!’

‘oh neat’

‘wait how do you get a disk in a first place if youre not allowed to reveal yourself to humans’

‘When we’re sending in restocking requests every month I usually ask for a couple of them from bands I like.’

‘agent fowler just lets you get music disks?’

‘Yeah. I still need to get the latest Rear Axle disc though. They released it a while ago, but I haven’t been able to put a request for it.‘

’how come?’

‘Some stuff with the Decepticons.’

Seeing as he didn’t elaborate, you chose not to ask. As the song was nearing an end, Bumblebee turned to a familiar road.

You saw the damage to the apartment minutes before Bumblebee had stopped. A large hole protruded from where the window had once been, with bricks and blocks scattered on the parking lot underneath. The curtains, tattered, decorated the edges of the hole, fluttering like an old bandage on an open wound. People stopped and stared at the damage, speculating what could have happened within the night.

As you stepped out of the camaro, you overheard the conversations of two elderly women whispering in hushed tones. “What a shame,” one of the murmured, shaking her head. “Those had just finished being renovated last month.”

“At least there weren’t many people staying in there. I wouldn’t want to imagine how many people would have been hurt.”

You swiftly walked past them, into the apartment building. You trailed up the stairs, right towards 44d. 

On the outside, nothing was too different. The door was still shut, and any

With a sigh, you turned the knob, and pushed open the door. 

The living room and the kitchen seemed the same, aside from a few objects that had been knocked over when you ran out of the apartment. But as soon as you turned around a corner, you saw most of the damage from the night before.

Long slashes had dragged into the wooden floor. Gashes were gouged onto the walls. Sunlight had to fight through bits of debris just to shine in the room. Wooden splinters had scattered everywhere, accompanied by loose chips of paint and brick. A wood dust scent permeated the entire room.

Images of the long talons that had left these marks behind made your hair stand on the end. None of this had even been intentional damage. You didn’t want to know what would have happened had the Decepticon succeeded. 

You stepped out of the room to find several, large, clean garbage bags. The next thirty minutes was spent getting everything that was yours into the bags. Within the living room, a pile of bags was forming. 

Sitting on the floor, staring at the pile, you exhaled before wiping sweat from your forehead. You took out your phone and texted Bumblebee.

‘stuffs packed up’

‘there isnt a lot but do you think youll have enough space’

‘Back trunk is empty. I’ll be fine. I’m pretty sturdy.”

‘neat’

‘be down there soon’

‘btw do you mind if we go to the store to get a portable stove’

‘Yeah, I don’t mind. Why do you need a stove?’

‘the one at base doesnt work’

‘also id prefer not eating cold food for every meal’

==

Thankfully, portable electric stoves were plentiful at the local appliance store. The box fitted snugly underneath your arm.

Technically, you could have left as soon as you bought it. But, in your trek towards the cashier, you noticed a rack of CDs that span several shelves.

Your gaze landed upon the cases that were propped up by a stand. One of them was a brightly colored distorted image of a car driving on a highway. The headlights showed a bright yellow color directly at a title in a scratched, dark blue title that read out ‘Headlight.’ The writing beside it indicated it was a Rear Axle album, and that it had been released rather recently.

You reached for your phone to search up what the band’s latest album was, until remembering your flip phone couldn’t do that. You sent a text to Bumblebee instead.

‘whats rear axles new album called’

‘Headlight. Why?’

You picked up the album in your hand, grasping it carefully. Then, you searched the collection for any titles you recognized and wanted to listen to.

After checkout, you quickly walked back to Bumblebee with the portable stove and plastic bag full of music discs.

As you approached him, you fished out the Rear Axle album, holding it out in front of him. As you got back into the Camaro, your phone endlessly buzzed with excited messages from Bumblebee. The two of you listened to the album on your way back to the base. 

==

Nothing too interesting happened immediately when you got back from base. You got everything out of Bumblebee, began setting up the portable stove, placed the non-perishable foods away, and put everything else in the closet of your room for the time being. The motions matched all of the times you moved into a new place.

Agent Fowler called. The conversation just went over things you knew, nothing more, nothing less. Afterwards, you made a sandwich for lunch. It was a pretty good sandwich.

==

One interesting thing happened in the early afternoon. The fridge was leaking. You were currently standing in a gigantic puddle of fridge juice, and it was threatening to spread to the entirety of the kitchen. You were trying your best to ward off the spilling army with a mop. 

Then another interesting thing happened. When you went back into the main room, debating whether you should ask Ratchet for help, you saw three children standing next to the Autobots. Human children, not made out of metal. The tallest one looked like the average awkward teenager who’d rather be anywhere else, the middle one with pink pigtails was definitely a troublemaker, and the third one with red glasses, the smallest and the youngest, was carrying a backpack as if prepared for anything. Three of them. 

Before you could ask why there were three children at the base, a third interesting thing happened. Optimus Prime introduced them as part of the team. As in, participating in an intergalactic war that nobody should really know about. Not in normal activities of the youth, like homework, or hobbies. And apparently have been doing so for a while.

You, bewildered that this was even a possibility, looked towards all the bots for an explanation as to how.

“It was an accident,” Arcee said, as if it was a normal clarification for a group of robots in disguise, not meant to be seen by human eyes.

Chapter Text

The kids introduced themselves, one by one. The oldest one was Jackson Darby, though preferred to be called Jack. Miko Nakadai, the girl with pigtails, introduced herself enthusiastically. The youngest one was named Rafael Esquivel, but he called himself ‘Raf.’

Apparently, Arcee, Bulkhead, and Bumblebee were the guardians of the kids. Primary protectors of them, in the event something should happen. Judging by who came with you, you assumed Arcee was Jack’s guardian, Bulkhead was Miko’s, and Bumblebee was Raf’s.

“It’s nice to meet you three,” you said. “I suppose I’ll be working with you all within the upcoming months.”

The group dispersed afterward, with Jack and Raf up near the couch, pulling out homework from their backpacks. The Autobots separated into their duties, with Arcee and Bulkhead going on patrol, while Bumblebee stayed behind to do chores, as Raf translated.

Just before they left, Bulkhead glanced back at Miko. “Stay put at the base, alright? We don’t want a repeat of what happened last week.”

Miko grinned. “I’ve already learned my lesson. Next time, promise you’ll take me with?”

“We’ll see what Optimus says,” Bulkhead negotiated.

The groundbridge opened, and the two bots disappeared.

Miko turned towards you. “Did you really get chased by a Vehicon?” She asked.

You blinked, not expecting to be addressed. “I…don’t know what that is?”

“Big, sleek, purple guys without faces. Y’know, like this!” Miko shoved a pink phone screen in front of your face. Sure enough, it was the Decepticon that broke into your apartment last night.

“Looks like them, alright,” you said. “…How did you get this photo?”

“I snuck on Bulkhead when he got on the Decepticon airship. I have a lot more. Want to see?”

You glanced at Optimus, who did not notice as he was busy with some sort of tablet in his hands. You looked back at Miko, who spent the next fifteen minutes scrolling through her photo gallery at various pictures of Decepticons and telling, in great, and concerning detail, about each one.

“…And this one was from the time Bulkhead scrapped a bunch of Decepticons, one against seven. I wasn’t supposed to be here, so the quality sucks, but it was so awesome! He ripped off the arms of one of the Vehicons, and then beat him to a pulp.”

“I see!” You nodded, increasingly becoming more distressed with each picture she showed you. It wasn’t just the stories, but how close some of the photos to their subjects were. Occasionally, you’d also see Jack and Raf in the background, which only made you more concerned. “…how often do you take photos of the Decepticons?”

“Used to be a couple times a week. I snuck out to take some of these. Now it’s just whenever Bulkhead’s allowed to bring me along.”

“And how often is that?”

“Once a week. Oh! This one is of us dune-bashing!” 

“Oh, that seems fun.”

“And this one was from two weeks ago when Bumblebee got possessed by Megatron.” In the photo she showed you, Bumblebee watching the TV, with Raf sitting underneath him while the both of them were playing a racing game. “Megatron’s the leader of the Decepticons. I think I have a photo of him.”

You blinked. “Bumblebee got possessed?”

“Yeah, he did! Basically, Optimus got the Cybonic Plague and Megatron knew the cure but he was in a coma, and the only way to get it was through a cortical patch that Bumblebee needed to use. Unfortunately, that resulted in Megatron being able to escape his body and take over Bumblebee’s. It was really scary since Boss Bot – That’s Optimus – could have died and we didn’t know what was happening to Bumblebee until it was almost too late. Also, Megatron got revived. Oh hey! Here’s a photo of Megatron!”

You stared at the photo of the large, bucket-headed mech, baffled. “Wait, so is the Cybonic Plague a thing we gotta worry about now, or…?” You also couldn’t help but wonder why Miko had been in the same room as Megatron in the first place.

“No, only Optimus got it, and we have the cure. Also, it only affects cybetronians, so we’re in the clear. Here’s another photo of Megatron! He looks a lot scarier in this one.”

That was true. He was standing with a much more aggressive pose, brandishing a larger canon with outstretched hands. A smile, sharp, like the teeth they revealed, sat on his face next to the scars that ran down to his chin.

But your eyes were focused on the Cybertronian to his left, standing behind him. A figure that arched forward to proudly display a set of metal wings the size of a fighter jet. Wide red eyes, similar to those of a cobra waiting to strike, a sharp jawline, a red crest at the helmet’s center. Then, you spotted the talons.

The same ones that seemed to come out of nowhere, able pierce through metal, into someone’s side.

The room suddenly felt colder.

“Who’s that next to Megatron?” you asked, crossing your arms. You covered your left side with a hand.

“Him? That’s Starscream. Second in command of the Decepticons. He’s kind of a wimp and a coward, though.”

Reminders of that cramped ship, of those cracked lenses, of being dragged across the floor, haunted your mind. “…I see.”

Miko continued to scroll through more photos. Thankfully, she hadn’t noticed your uneasiness every time Starscream appeared.

Minutes later, Optimus walked over. He crouched down beside the two of you, leaning over to speak in a gentle tone. “I apologize if I’m interrupting, but Miko, do you not have assignments for school you must complete? Something about an essay due for history?”

Miko huffed, crossing her arms. “Yeah, but I can do it at home. It’s called ‘homework’ for a reason.”

“It may be best to start it now, so you do not have to stay up late tonight to finish it.”

“But who’s going to catch them up on everything around the base? Like the rules or our adventures?” She asked, gesturing towards you.

“It’s not like I’m going anywhere anytime soon. You can show me your album later. But you should definitely do your homework,” you responded.

“There is ample time to introduce them to the ongoings of the base,” Optimus added.

Miko grumbled, but she went up the stairs towards where the other kids were. She pulled out a notebook and a pen. Jack told her something, to which she smirked and elbowed him into the side.

You realized Optimus hadn’t moved from his spot. He looked at you with concern.

“What’s up?” You said, wondering why the leader had lingered by.

The large cybertronian sat down fully next to you. “You appeared on edge, as the humans might say. Has Miko done or said anything that bothered you?”

You scratched the back of your head, staring down at the floor. “…Maybe not specifically what she said. I saw some of the photos that Miko took, and it looked like they were taken very close to a lot of fights. I guess it’s just concerning how close to danger she and the rest of the kids might have been.”

“Miko is quite… enthusiastic. She is very curious, as expected for someone her age, and she enjoys learning more about this even if it meant sneaking out of the base to see our fights with the Decepticons without regard to her own safety.”

Your eyes trailed towards the couch area. You saw Miko with a mischievous smirk, before swiping an eraser in Jack’s hand. He looked surprised, before trying to grab it back. “…is it really smart to let a bunch of kids get involved with something like this, though?” You asked. “You guys are literally fighting a war. You and your enemies are also literal titans with technology vastly superior to our own. This is, and seems like it already has been, very dangerous to anybody who’s human.”

“Oftentimes, I wonder if it had been wise to let them know about our presence,” Optimus agreed, looking forward to the kids. “For a lack of a better phrase, we may have grown attached to them as our charges. With how they’ve managed to integrate themselves in our lives, it has been very difficult to imagine life at the base without them.”

“…I’m not sure how I feel about that,” you admitted. 

“The sentiment is shared.”

The two of you watched as Jack retaliated by grabbing Miko’s notebook, holding it over his head and using his height to his advantage. Bickering went back and forth before Miko began climbing onto the table. Just before she could tackle her homework out of the older teen’s hands, Ratchet stepped in.

He plucked the notebook and the eraser, returning it to their respective owners, and gave a firm, but brief, lecture to both. Ratchet looked annoyed, but Raf was giggling. The minute Ratchet turned away, the three burst out laughing.

The mini school supply war raged on, with erasers and pens being tossed with hushed laughter. Raf joined in too. This time, the goal was to be kept unseen by the medic, as whenever he went to check on the kids, they pretended they were doing their homework.

You tried to compose yourself, but you couldn’t help but snicker as you watched the chaos. Looking up towards Optimus, you noticed a ghost of a smile on his face.

==

Seeing as Ratchet was occupied, you tried to look at the fridge by yourself first. Luckily, the cleaning closet had a set of tools inside, which you took with you to the kitchen.

Greeted by a humongous puddle, you cleaned the floor of the kitchen one more time, before unplugging the fridge. The leaking stopped immediately.

The back of the fridge was covered in rust, leaving behind a rust-stained block on the wall. The back panels were worn, crumbling underneath your touch. Strangely enough, the coils on the fridge seemed fine, if a little dirty.

With a screwdriver, you took out the screws holding in the back panel. You were greeted with a strong scent of rot, which made you gag and step away. At a distance, you looked at the gross, wet, rusty mess, then back at your gloveless hands. You grimaced.

Behind you, you heard a series of footsteps getting closer. You turned around to see one of the kids standing by the doorway.

“Oh, hello. Jack, right?” You said.

“Uh, yeah, that’s me. Sorry, are you in the middle of something?”

You shook your head. “Nope. Just trying to fix a fridge. It’s a bit of a mess but feel free to come in. Is there anything you need?”

“Oh, no, just, um, refilling my water bottle.” Hesitantly, he stepped inside, looking around the room. “Wow, this place looks… different. A lot cleaner than it used to be.” His nose scrunched when he saw the fridge.

“Earlier today the fridge stopped working. Could be the fact that it hasn’t been used for years. Kinda gross, isn’t it?” you explained. “You wouldn’t happen to know if the base has a pair of gloves, would you?”

Jack scratched the back of his head. “I don’t think so. If there was, those gloves could be from the 80s, so they might snap easily.”

“Fair point. Raw hands in the fridge guts it is, then.”

Jack chortled. “Ew. Couldn’t you ask Ratchet for help?”

“I think he’d throw something right at me if I suggested it. I wouldn’t blame him. This is… not ideal.”

You continued to contemplate how to fix the fridge in a way where you didn’t have to touch it, while the teen filled up his water bottle in the sink.

“…So, are you actually a time traveler?” Jack asked out of the blue.

You turned your head towards him. “Where’d you hear that from?” 

“Agent Fowler mentioned it when we asked.”

“Huh. He tells you that stuff?”

“Whatever he tells the bots, we end up overhearing or get told anyways. Sorry, is that…”

“It’s fine,” you interrupted. “Better that it’s out in the open than me explaining it. But yeah, I am from the future.”

“That’s cool. What’s the future like?”

You shrugged. “A lot of it is different, but there’s enough that’s the same. What parts did you want to know?”

“I guess, anything that’s notable? Like flying cars, or something?”

“Oh yeah, we still have planes. Not everyone has one and they keep making the seats smaller, but we still have those.”

“Pfft, okay, yeah sure. How about, what you miss from the future?”

Fond memories replayed in your mind, ones that you had been afraid to reminisce on. A small, bittersweet smile made its way to your face. “My friends. My family. Generally, good people that I remember.” You frowned. “I also wish I had my phone.”

“Don’t you have your phone with you right now?”

“This thing?” You took out the flip phone, looking at it. “Not that it’s not great, but I can’t search things up random questions on this, like how to fix kitchen appliances.”

“You could ask Ratchet to use the side computers,” Jack suggested. “Sometimes we use it for homework or to watch YouTube.”

You considered it. The worse that could happen is the medic would continue to stare at you passive aggressively. You shrugged. “It’s worth a shot.”

==

“Why didn’t you just come to ask for my help first?” Ratchet questioned when you explained why you needed to use a computer. “I would have been able to fix the device much quicker than you can. That would have spared you, and us, more time and trouble.”

“I didn’t… think you’d say yes,” you admitted. “Are you sure you want to fix it? When I say it’s gross, it’s gross. I would not blame you if you changed your mind.”

“I’m a doctor. I’ve seen worse. Just bring it here.”

For the next twenty minutes, you were pushing the fridge through the hall. Bumblebee walked by, watching as you were doing your best not to overly jostle and flip over the giant metal block as it shuffled.

‘Do you need help over there?’ your phone buzzed.

“If you do, I will lay down my life for you,” you heaved, collapsing onto the fridge’s side. The yellow cybertronian picked up the fridge with ease, before helping you stand to your feet. “Thanks a lot. Just bring it to Ratchet.“

When Bumblebee handed the fridge into the medic’s hands, he brought out the workbench again. You went upstairs towards the couch area, slumping into a spare chair, to get a better view at the repairs.

Although he scowled at the mess, he didn’t complain. He just dumped the gross junk into a waste receptacle nearby, before using his tools to replace the parts that had been broken.

==

Around 7:00, Bulkhead and Arcee came back. They stayed around for a bit, watching anything that popped up on TV, or listening to Miko play her guitar as loud as possible.

When it was 7:30, the kids began packing up. Arcee, Bulkhead, and Bumblebee transformed into their vehicle modes. They drove through the tunnel entrance back to Jasper. Optimus stayed to send them off. After they left, Ratchet handed you a fridge, which looked as if it was brand new. He told you not to bother him anymore. You thanked him, before realizing you had to push the thing back by yourself.

Around 8:30, the fridge was back in its proper place in the kitchen. Your food was in there, safe, secure, and spoil-free. The ground had never been drier. You laid on the cement floor, catching your breath. 

At 9:00, you collapsed into your bed, kicking your sheets over yourself. The second your head hit the pillow, you were out.

==

Your eyes opened to a friend’s living room. One that had enough room to fit in a movie party.

Looking around, that seemed to be what it was. Your friends were all sitting on the couch, or the ground, watching something on a wide-screen TV. Popcorn bowls were strewn about, with popcorn kernels on top of blankets. The movie playing looked like an animated film. You didn’t recognize the characters, or what was going on.

“Hey, (Y/N),” one of your friends whispered to you. “You were out for a long time. Are you alright?”

Surprised to see them again, you simply nodded. “Uh, yeah. Just… had a weird dream… What did I miss?”

Your friend shrugged. “Nothing too interesting. The beginning was pretty boring. It’s starting to get interesting right now, though.” Another one of your friends shushed the both of you.

You tried to concentrate on the movie, but it became distorted, with scenes that didn’t make sense. Your friends laughed, cried, screamed, but you couldn’t understand why.

You excused yourself, walking towards the kitchen. When you stepped through the doorway, Cliffjumper was there. He looked uncomfortable, crouching into himself, while his horns were still scratching against the roof. You winced at the screeching from when he moved.

“You need help?” you asked.

Cliffjuper scowled, trying to readjust himself to a more comfortable position. “As if I’m letting my guard down around a liar. The memory’s about to end anyways.”

Just as he said it, the surroundings disintegrated, dissolving into pixels around you. 

When the walls disappeared, the cybertronian fell over. Though relieved at being able to stand up again, his expression turned cold when he looked at you again. A chill down your back. “How do you know about Optimus Prime?” Cliffjumper interrogated.

“…Hello to you too,” you responded, shrinking in on yourself. “What’s going on?”

“Why did your friend have those… figurines? With the Autobot and Decepticon insignias? Why did you know about my leader?”

“…You saw that dream from last night, too.”

“Just answer the question, bud.”

At one point, you supposed something like this should have been expected. Suddenly, you felt tired. As if all the energy from earlier today was beginning to sap away. “…It’s a long story. You might want to sit down. But, you can stand if you want?”

Cliffjumper crossed his arms. Any hints of the friendly mech you met in your dreams seemed to disappear.

You exhaled. “I’m from a world where we only have gigantic, transforming robots in fiction. Cybertronians, like Optimus Prime and Bumblebee, are all part of a human franchise, and do not exist, in the same capacity that they exist in this universe.”

Then, you started from the beginning.

==

Cliffjumper did sit down, eventually. He didn’t speak for a long time, refusing to face your direction. Your eyes trailed towards the void. Although you were resting your head on a palm, your thoughts felt messy, like scribbles on a page.

“…I know it’s hard to believe,” you admitted. “If it helps, I don’t know anything about Optimus Prime besides his name and some stuff that I don’t think would apply to him in this universe.” He shot you an accusatory look.

“That’s a lie. You said you knew about Bumblebee. Also, how’s that supposed to help?”

You held up your hands defensively, avoiding direct eye contact. “I don’t know? Maybe it’s not as bad as y’all might, not be as fictional as the others?” The tips of your fingers felt cold.

Cliffjumper dragged both of his hands down his face. “Bud, I just got told that in another universe, I and my friends only exist as a form of twisted entertainment for your species. I don’t think you can say anything that solves that core issue of our war being watched over, and over, and over again. And for what? Watching us suffer and die in a million different ways?”

“…I’m not the best person to ask this. I only know as much as I do through social osmosis.”

“Are you telling me you came here not knowing anything?” As you sheepishly nodded, Cliffjumper exploded. “Primus, what’s the point then? Why fragging come here at all if you know nothing and can’t even do anything about it?”

You scowled. “Well, I didn’t exactly get a choice in a matter, did I? I have a list of things I’d rather be doing instead. It’s not like this is a normal thing that just happens,” you said under your breath.

“And I didn’t choose to die, or get stuck in the mind of a human. But I guess life finds a way.”

Your frown deepened. You crossed your arms, averting your gaze from red cybertronian. While his reaction was understandable given the circumstances, it didn’t help the stinging feeling in your eyes that you tried to rub away.

Cliffjumper sighed, exhaling for a long, long time. “Alright, what other, fragging, universe-breaking secrets do you have, hm? Better say it now before it gets revealed at the most inconvenient time later.”

“…Even if I did have anything else, it’s not like I can do anything about it,” you muttered.

You could feel the cybertronian stare at you, judging you, silently. The tension in the air began weighing heavy against, pressing down on your shoulders to make them hunch. You gripped tightly at the sides of your arms.

 “…Slag. You’re kinda helpless, aren’t you?” Cliffjumper finally said.

You glared at him. “How am I helpless?”

“You don’t even know how you got here, can’t even do much about it, only here by whims you don’t even understand. That fits the definition of helpless.”

“I guess it’s a good thing I’m good at lying, then.”

“And I’m not the best judge of character,” he admitted. “Well, what’s the next step? Where are we going from here?”

You raised an eyebrow. “‘We?’”

“Not like I have anything better to do. If you ask me, you should get in contact with Optimus and the Autobots. They’ll be able to help, especially if you’re trying to make it back home. Even though rule number one means limiting cybertronian contact with humans, they’ll make an exception for you.”

 “…Funny you should mention that,” you said, before recounting the events of last night. From the Vehicon, to your stay inside the silo near Jasper.

Cliffjumper simply remained silent when you were finished. “…You’ve met Optimus already,” he repeated, to confirm.

“And Bumblebee. And Bulkhead. And Arcee. And Ratchet. And Jack. And Miko. And Raf.”

“…who are Jack, Miko, and Raf?”

“The… other humans at the base? The kids?”

“Wait, you’re saying they broke rule number 1 already?” Cliffjumper barked out a laugh. “That’s hilarious! Who was it? How long?”

“Not sure, who broke it, but it seems like they’ve broken it for awhile.” You uncrossed your arms. “I guess you knew the Autobots?”

“Knew them? I was an Autobot!” He bragged. “It was us six against an army of Decepticons on a world full of organics. Bumblebee was the scout, Bulkhead was the muscle, Arcee was the speed, and I was the best-looking one. We did well, holding up our own against swarms of Vehicons. Until, well, what you saw.”

You averted your gaze to the ground, again.  “…I’m sorry you had to relive that.”

Cliffjumper groaned loudly. Surprised at the sudden noise, you looked at him to see what was wrong.

He pointed at you with an accusatory finger, lowering himself so you met eye to eye.“I already told you to stop apologizing for things that aren’t your fault. Your name’s not Starscream, you’re not the one who killed me. It’s not like you control what happens here either.” A realization seemed to pass on the mech’s face. He huffed, before he gave you a reassuring smile. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m still not excited about being considered ‘fictional.’ But at the  end of the day, you’re just someone as lost as I am.”

You didn’t respond immediately, but you allowed yourself to smile as the weight lifted from your shoulders.

After a while, the cybertronian spoke again. “How are they? Are they alright?” he asked, softly.

“I haven’t been with them long, so I can’t really gauge how well they are. But, they seem… fine.”

Cliffjumper nodded. “As long as they’re alive, that’s good enough. Tell me a bit more about the three new humans at the base. What are they like?”

You told him as much as you knew. About the photos that Miko showed you, about the school supply fight they had, and how much the bots hovered over them like mother hens. A fond smile stayed on Cliffjumper’s face. He laughed, commenting on how they fit well with the team.

As the two of you sat in comfortable silence again, he slowly grew solemn again. “Bud, do you mind doing something for me?”

“Sure. What is it?”

“Take care of them, will you? And I mean, all of them, including the kids.”

“…Of course,” you answered.

Chapter Text

You stumbled through the darkness, trying to find the door. One downside of this room, and most of the base, was the lack of natural sunlight.

When you finally pushed down on the door handle again, the room was flooded with the artificial, bright lights of the base. You squinted as you navigated your way to the kitchen, holding a hand against the wall. It guided you to the main terminal, as a brush of cold air from the vents froze the tips of your finger.

You saw Ratchet standing by his workbench once again. This time, his hand was holding a boxy device, cobbled together with parts and bits of human technology. The screen looked like it came from a cathode ray TV, attached to a makeshift plastic panel of buttons and dials.

As you approached, he looked down at you and frowned.

You were trying to think of what you did that warranted such a reaction, or if that was just how his normal face was in the morning when he finally spoke. “Go to the nearby podium,” he commanded, pointing towards the ledge where the smaller sets of computers were held. “There are some diagnostics I need to run on you.”

“…Can I get breakfast first?” Ratchet glared at you. “Coming over, right away.”

He had you sit down on one of the chairs while he adjusted the dials on the device. You saw a meter appear on the screen, as well as some graphs that seemed to spike as he moved around.

You tilted your head. “What is that? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Energon sensor. A bit primitive, and less precise than I’d like, but it’ll do the job.”

He tested the machine by holding it close to himself. The meter jumped to the highest setting, clicking, and displaying a symbol on the screen. When he held it away, the meter went to the lowest setting, changing the symbol to another screen.

After a couple more adjustments, he put the sensor closer to you. The meter spiked. Not as much as it did when it was near Ratchet, but it was still significant enough to cause him to frown.

You sank into the chair. “Judging by that look, I’m guessing that’s not a good thing?”

“Hm. Have you ever been exposed to long periods of energon before?”

“I was standing outside the distillation room when talking to Optimus. Could that be the reason?”

“Not unless the distiller was exuding air particulates, which is highly unlikely as I did a maintenance check last night. Even if it was malfunctioning beforehand, it doesn’t explain why there were constant unexplained readings on the energon sensors throughout the night.” Ratchet placed a finger under his chin, thinking. “Are you feeling discomfort or nausea? Or an unusual sensation?”

“I don’t think so, besides being a bit tired and hungry. But that’s because I just woke up.”

“Hm. If anything changes, tell me immediately. Regardless of what is causing your signal, I want to keep an optic open, just in case.”

You tilted your head. “Do you think it could have something to do with what brought me here?”

“Possibly, but I’m hesitant to jump to that conclusion just yet. Not that time travel is unheard of from cybertronians, but for it to passively affect organics, particularly as primitive as humans, is unusual…” Ratchet muttered to himself, sinking deep into thought.

He stayed that way for a while, only moving to cross his arms or to blink. Seeing as you weren’t needed anymore, you excused yourself and walked towards the kitchen.

==

Breakfast was simple. A diverse spread of foods you were allowed to make with the additional time, and a beverage of your choice in a mug. You placed the food on a wide plate and got water in the sink into a mug. As the kitchen didn’t have tables, or a chair, you brought your food back to the main room.

Your eyes lingered towards the elevator that sat in the room’s center. The white column when straight up to the ceiling, as if holding up the mountain. “Where does the elevator go?” you asked, pointing to it.

“To the top of the base,” Ratchet answered.

“Can I go there?”

The medic paused, carefully considering the question. Hesitantly, he permitted it.

You carefully balanced your food as you walked to the elevator. Using your elbow, you pressed the uppermost button, to which the doors opened to. The interior was quite spacious, being a circular room that could fit Optimus in his vehicle mode.

The pressure of the room changed when the doors closed. The elevator rose.

Sunlight forced its way through the cracks of the doors. The orange glow eventually pushed the doors open, revealing the mountain’s flattened top. The center, where you were standing, was covered by a large, light gray platform, which looked to be a helicopter pad. Stairs on its side led to the natural, basking rock of the mountain, which had stretched a wider radius.

Near the edge of the mountain was a stack of rocks balanced on top of each other. A singular, metal horn laid on top, a miniature shrine of sorts. You stared at it for a while.

Quietly, you walked to the edge of the platform, slowly sitting down, letting your legs dangle. Placing the plate on your lap and the mug next to you, you languished in the warmth as you ate.

In the distance, you heard an echoing rumbling. It was faint, barely noticeable unless you squinted. From Jasper, a speck of dust in the desert overshadowed by surrounding mountains and rocks near the base, something was racing towards the base.

Twenty minutes later, you heard the elevator’s doors open. You turned around, just in time to see Arcee walking onto the platform. She seemed surprised to see you up here. You simply waved.

“I see you found your way to the roof,” she said, walking towards you. Briefly, she glanced at the horn. “Liking the view?”

You nodded. “It’s nice up here,” you responded. “Were you on a mission, earlier?”

“Just coming back from Jasper.” Arcee sat down next to you, propping her legs onto the mountain’s top. She leaned over, placing her arms on her legs.

“Oh, cool. How was it?”

The blue cybertronian shrugged. “You’ve been to the town. Not much to report on, thankfully.” She looked onto the desert, as cascades of cool shadow stretched along the glowing sand. “You’re right. It is nice up here. A bit more lively than Cybertron’s deserts.”

“Are there a lot of deserts on Cybertron?”

“A few.”

“What are they like?.”

“More barren. A lot less flora and fauna. No cactus, though.” Arcee’s plating ruffled a bit, as if she was shivering. “Ugh. Cactus is the worst.”

“What’s wrong with cactus?”

“They have a lot of spines for something that seems like it would be squishy. It’s difficult to clean from your plating and tires, especially as they’re small and not magnetic.” She glanced at the horn. “The first time we came to Earth, some of us made the mistake of driving into one.”

You winced. “Egh. Yeah, fair enough.”

“Luckily, Nevada doesn’t seem to have too many of the large ones.”

“Like Saguaro cactus?”

“If that’s what they’re called.”

The sunrise was growing bolder, deciding to peak above the horizon of mountains, losing its blush as the sky turned blue.

“Saguaro cacti are kinda cool,” you said, swinging your legs. “Most of the tall ones you see are pretty old, as it takes them nearly a century to grow.”

Arcee raised an eyebrow. “Only a century?”

“‘Only?’”  

“A century isn’t that long when you live for millions of years.”

“Million years as in, ‘Earth around the sun’ years?”

“Roughly,” she confirmed.

“…huh.” You opened your mouth, before closing it again. “…are all of you are over millions of years old?”

“We’ve been fighting a war for millions of years. What do you think?”

Optimus had mentioned the timeframe of the war once before, you realized. You hadn’t sat with that implication until now. You might not have known the exact details, but what you could glean from the Autobots was more than enough. No matter how skilled they may have been, a faction did not survive in a world-ending war if there had only been five members at its start.

Arcee stood up and stretched. On her plating, you could see gouges underneath the paint, like scarred metal. In her joints, along her axles, scratches and lines caught the sunlight briefly. As she rotated her arm, she closed her eyes, listening to the slight popping sound from her shoulder.

There seemed to be an air of resignation to her, of someone who had seen far and done too much, but was not allowed to stop until it was over.

“We should head back into the base,” she said. Wordlessly, you picked up your empty plate and cup, following her back to the elevator. The last thing you saw before the doors closed, and the two of you descended into the mountain, was the horn.

==

Just after you finished washing the dishes, Optimus appeared from the halls. In his hands was a large, translucent tablet.

“Good morning,” he greeted. “Are you currently available?”

“Uh, sure. What’s up?”

“You mentioned you had wanted to help around the base. I am about to take stock of our supplies before we send an order request to Agent Fowler. Would you be opposed to helping me?”

“No, of course not. Are we going to do that right now?”

“Yes. Would you mind following me?”

The two of you walked down the side hall from the main room. You went past many closed rooms, including the steam distillation room.

The Autobot leader stopped before a closed garage door. He crouched down and grabbed the handle at the bottom. Gently, he pulled the door up, revealing a well-kept, lit room full of shelves stacked with various metal parts and items throughout. It reminded you a bit of a warehouse.

Cautiously, you stepped into the room, looking around. “So, how am going to help?” You asked.

Optimus knelt, showing you the controls of the tablet. “We scan the codes on the labels near each item. This helps us know what was meant to be here. Afterwards, we can input the counted number of each object. The program will inform us if we may need more of it.”

As a demonstration, he went to one of the shelves and held the pad up next to what looked like a barcode. A tab appeared on the left side of the screen, to which Bumblebee input a number. Another list popped up with the object on its first line. “Would you like to try?”

“With that tablet?” You pointed towards his hands.

The cybertronian redirected your attention to the wall next to the room. There had been a wall of small tablets lined against each other. They were different sizes, some of them as big as the one Bumblebee was holding, some of them larger, and a few that were small enough for a human. “Ratchet has made different tablet sizes that would allow anybody in the base to assist, should they choose to.”

You grabbed one of them in your hands. It was light, easily allowing you to maneuver it. On the side, there was a smooth bar that looked a bit like a scanner. To practice, you scanned the code on the shelf near you, next to a bunch of sheet metal. There were around five visible pieces, which you inputted in the terminal.

“What should I do if I make a mistake?”

“You can edit the number of things for each object from the list on the side.”

You selected the sheet metal, to which an option menu appeared. “This kinda feels like a self-checkout kiosk,” you noted. Optimus gave you a puzzled glance. “It’s a human thing for stores where you can scan and buy things by yourself. I think they might have started inputting those around this time, or soon. Anyways, should we start?”

Optimus nodded. “If you need any help, do not hesitate to ask for it.”

For the next hour, or so, the two of you walked between aisles, scanning and recording. Some objects were completely missing, such as different metal parts. Others seemed to be in a large supply, like cans of paint that weren’t commonly used by any of the Autobots.

The interface of the tablet was quite delightful. If you and Optimus had finished an aisle, the system would tell you. If anything had been missing from the scans, there was a map that you could pull down to check where it would be. The design was simple, but intuitive, making your task much easier than expected.

After you had scanned a barcode next to some large pipes, the system notified you that everything had been accounted for.

You met up with the Autobot leader back at the room’s entrance. Carefully, you placed the tablet back onto the wall, before giving him a thumbs up. He watched as you returned to the hall before lowering the door.

“The information from the last hour will help us make our supply request list for Agent Fowler later this week,” Optimus explained as the two of you walked through the halls. “However, if you need anything not easily obtained through Jasper, you are certainly free to add to that list by consulting with Ratchet.”

“Are you sure? That won’t take up resources, will it?”

“Within reason, it would not impact us at all.”

You nodded, mind slowly conjuring a list of things that you wouldn’t mind having at base. When you made it back to the main room, you made the list and gave it to Ratchet as he was compiling the request. He didn’t say anything, simply adding the oven-top stove and washing machine to the list.

==

The following days blurred together as a routine was formed. In the mornings, Ratchet would track your rising and lower energon levels. Afterwards, you’d find your way to the roof to eat breakfast. Sometimes, Arcee would go up there, too. You talked with her a bit, but nothing as heavy as the first time you went up there.

Around the base, you were given small tasks to help with, whether it was keeping track of supplies, or finding something that Ratchet might have needed. At least it was something to do that wasn’t standing around aimlessly.

Occasionally, you saw glimpses of patrols through the visual feeds some of the Autobots sent to central communications. They were never huge fights, but the quick skirmishes with a few Vehicons, in which metal seemed to tear and bend like paper, had always made you uneasy.

When the kids were let off from school, the base seemed a bit livelier. Maybe it was because their chatter with their guardians seemed to break up the silence, or just more movement that was there in general.

You felt a bit like an outsider, often relegated to just watch the others. It made sense, as you hadn’t known anybody on the team for long. Still, you couldn’t stop but feel a tad bit lonely. You supposed it was something that could only get better with time.

Things weren’t perfect, but you would manage.

==

As you lay on top of a crate, in a storage room conjured from Cliffjumper’s memories, you made a decision.

“I’m going to tell him,” you declared. “After the end of this week, and before next month, I’m going to tell him the truth.”

“Good on you for taking the initiative, bud,” Cliffjumper said. “Why a week, though?”

“I need time to prepare. Time to think about what to say, and how to respond if Optimus asks anymore. Honestly, just thinking about it makes me nervous.”

“I get it. Optimus can be a little intimidating, even if he doesn’t mean to be. Still, you’ll be fine.”

“…I hope so.” You stretched, before sitting upright again. “…Do you want me to tell him about you, too?”

“You already have a lot on your plate. Do you really want to add more by trying to convince him that I’m still around?” Cliffjumper huffed. “Besides, I don’t know how that’ll help the rest of the team. It’s not like I can help them directly anymore, or even do much.”

“I won’t say anything if you don’t want me to. But I don’t think they would mind.”

“Of course they won’t. I’m just not ready, yet.”

You nodded. You didn’t mention it again.

==

The groundbridges always made you curious. There was something about seeing an actual, working portal that boggled your mind every time the Autobots used it. You had so many questions, like how it worked, how it was powered, how it even came to be, and what it was like to go through them. You never asked them, as it never came up in conversation.

Yet, one fateful afternoon, you saw Raf and Bumblebee talking from the corner of your eye right after they had arrived at the base. Then, the boy began walking towards you, his guardian following behind.

“Bumblebee asked if you wanted to come with us on a patrol,” Raf translated.

You, who had been casually flipping through the pages of a book, set it down. “Depends on where we’re going,” you said. “Is it going to be dangerous?”

Bumblebee shook his head. “If it was, Bumblebee wouldn’t take me there. He also said we’re going on a route that normally doesn’t have Decepticons.”

You considered it. There wasn’t much you needed, or wanted, to do at the base. You shrugged. “Sure. Anything I need to prepare?”

“He doesn’t think so, just that we’re heading out in fifteen minutes through the groundbridge.”

“Wait, we’re going to use the groundbridge?” Raf nodded. “Okay, yeah, definitely going then.” Raf and Bumblebee shot you a look.

Sheepishly, you grinned. “It’s portals! I’ve never seen a working one before! If I’m going to have to stay here for who knows how long, I’d like to at least use the groundbridge once.” It was only fair, all things considered.

From around the corner, you saw Bulkhead enter the main room. Bumblebee called out to him, to which the green bot grinned. “I’ve been good, Bee. Just going on a surprise recon by Ratchet about an energon signal to something called a peninsula? Luckily, the place doesn’t seem to have any humans.”

Bumblebee seemed to ask him another question, to which Raf repeated to you. “Bumblebee asked if we were going to the same place as Bulkhead.”

“Ratchet says it’s somewhere more up north than your place. Hopefully it won’t take that long,” Bulkhead answered.

“If all goes well,” the medic spoke from his station. With a pull of the lever, the tunnel that held the ground bridge began to shake.

It started as a small ball of electricity, twisting and turning on itself. But within a blink, it exploded into a gigantic portal that swirled like the center of a whirlpool. Its sides ate at the light around its edges, warping them as if they were going to be dragged in too.

Bulkhead stepped in. Green light pooled around him, following him as the groundbridge disappeared.

Seconds later, Bulkhead commed the base, confirming he had made it to his destination. With that, Ratchet opened the groundbridge for you, Bumblebee, and Raf.

A familiar buzz filled the air, and the green portal beckoned the three of you to approach.

You inched towards the ground bridge, heart lurching in hesitation and excitement. You had reached to touch the portal, but your hand drew back before your finger tips had brushed against it.

You watched Bumblebee and Raf, who merely disappeared into it as they walked through. Behind you, you heard Ratchet impatiently tapping at the side of the control panel.

You took a deep breath, as the ground bridge urged you to come closer. Then, you plunged in.

For a second, you were embraced by a warm, bright tunnel. You saw the boy and the yellow bot on the other side, waiting for you. Yet, the minute you made another step, there was a loud shriek. A constant, high-pitched warning, scraped at your ears.

Sound, sight, and motion flooded into your ears, your eyes, and your touch, tearing you apart, layer by layer.

The ground had disappeared, leaving you perpetually falling, flying, failing to stay still, thrashing around in a space of nothing, and everything. What had replaced it was green streams of light wrapping against each other into tendrils that extended farther and farther into a distance.

You tried to reach towards one of them, grab onto it to anchor yourself from pulling, invisible tides. Fingertips brushed against the side of the stream before you were dunked into darkness.

Beneath, the caverns were silenced by a hungered groan. Drenched, rattled walls pulsed.  

Something, or someone, pulled you out. Just as you returned to the light, his grip loosened and you were flung again.

This time, you were followed. A silhouette ran towards you, two horns contrasting sharply against the currents of light. A large hand reached towards you, just like it had the first time you had fallen.  

Your stuttering fingers latched onto the edge of a finger, clinging on tightly despite your stinging arms. “Hold on!” He shouted. You were pulled in as two metal hands cupped together, shielding you. Through the gaps, you could see him running towards another stream.

He dived into it, and everything became dark again, stopping the screeching.

A starved Earth stared as you fell onto its surface.

==

You gasped, inhaling in the sharp, cold air around you. The ground beneath was frozen, and blades of grass crumbled as you gripped onto the floor of a forest.

Trees covered in snow, a night sky full of stars, and a moon stared down at you.

You hacked loudly, heaving as you rolled to your side. “Cliffjumper?” you whispered, calling out into a quiet wilderness. “Bumblebee? Raf?” you said, louder. Your only response was an electrifying, numbing pain around your body. White puffs of air escaped your lungs with each shuttering breath.

Hugging yourself against the cold of the winter, you looked around. In front of you, you could see apartment complexes rising above the canopy of trees. Their lights had been turned off.

Then, the forest shook. Large, rhythmic footsteps grew closer and closer. Tree trunks snapped, making way for a large, overshadowing figure. Dark blue platings of armor covering a large, metal frame, clean of any identifiable insignias, merged with the night above.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” The cybertronian sneered.

“…Autobot?” You breathed.

Yellow eyes gleamed from above, and lips curled. “Heh. Wrong answer.”

Chapter Text

The cybertronian’s hand changed. It became a hammer, which slammed into the ground next to you. The soil beneath cracked.

“I’ve been itching for a fight lately. It’d do me a solid if you told me where your Autobot pal is. If not, well, let’s just say metal and organic don’t mix well.”

Thoughts racings, head pounding from your panicked heart, your hand threaded into the soil beneath. Words didn’t come out of your mouth. Couldn’t come out of your mouth.

“What, cat got your tongue?”

You ripped out a patch of grass, roots grasping onto a large ball of dirt. Immediately, you launched it directly into a bright, yellow eye.

As soon as they flinched, you scrambled to your feet, fleeing into the woods. A string of curses followed you, with the forest floor shaking enough that with each step, it felt like you were bouncing. You could hear the trees snap behind you.

You squeezed your way into the clearing that surrounded the maze of grey apartments. Tire tracks protruded from it, nearly making you trip as you ran past. With the sudden loss of the forest’s protection, you could see two large legs beginning to flank you from both side.

A large step by the cybertronian blocked your path forward, and out of the corner of your eye, you could see a hand swiping towards you.

You tried to turn around, but your shoe got caught within a tire track. You stumbled, and fell. Cold metal became mere centimeters away from your skin.

You cowered, covering your head with your arms, shutting your eyes.

Just before you were lifted from the ground, there was a loud smash from above. You felt the hand rip away from you.

Hesitantly, you looked up.

Standing over you, one hand transformed into a wrecking ball of sorts, was Bulkhead. His eyes were locked onto the cybertronian’s brightening ones.

“Bulkhead,” the cybertronian sneered. “Imagine my luck bumping into you in the middle of nowhere.”

“Yeah, Breakdown? Well, today must be your unlucky day.” He lunged at Breakdown. His hands locked in with the other cybertronian’s, both wrestling against the other to a standstill.

“Where’s the other human? Did someone accidentally step on her?” The blue cybertronian taunted.

Bulkhead roared, pushing Breakdown backwards and wrestling them into the ground. “I’ll take care of him! Get out of here!” Bulkhead commanded. You didn’t need to be told twice, as you rolled back onto your feet.  

Your lungs burned when you rounded around a corner of a gray wall. Once out of sight, you leaned against your knees, panting heavily.

You swore between gulps of freezing air,  staring through the ground, listening to the ensuing fight between Bulkhead and Breakdown.

The building behind you shook, as one of the cybertronians had been shoved into it. You shielded your head from the falling rubble, running to hide behind a building farther from the fight. It was hard to tell who was winning, but the gloating you heard from Breakdown was not a good sign.

What were you supposed to do if Bulkhead fell?

…Wait.

Your phone.

You still had your phone.

Frantically, you flipped it open. Luckily, as you barely used it anyways, there was power, and a signal.  

As you ran, you pulled up your texts with Bumblebee.

‘w bulkhead’

‘breakdown’

‘help’

Realizing that didn’t make sense, you tried your best to write more. The text was chalked with spelling errors that your frozen fingers didn’t have time to fix.

Before you could finish the text, someone came out from behind a corner. A human, wearing a large pair of dark goggles over a mask. Their outfit was adjacent to what you would expect from a military uniform, bolstered by the weapon they held in their hands, aimed directly at you.

They weren’t alone. Others dressed exactly like them suddenly swarmed the abandoned streets, surrounding you. Some rode in green muscle cars, the rest marching with their feet.

You sent the text, hoping it was enough for Bumblebee to connect the dots.

One of the masked figures stepped forward. “Drop the phone,” they ordered.

The lid of the flip phone snapped shut, and you dropped it. The phone fell next to you, bouncing a couple of times. Blood pumped through your ears as you watched them examine you.

“You look familiar. What’s your name, and your association with the robots?”

Your jaw clenched, feeling your lower molars gnashing into your upper ones. “…bit rude not to introduce yourselves first, isn’t it?”

Overhead, helicopters flew towards the clearing. The ground trembled once more, and suddenly, it was silent. You realized you couldn’t hear the cybertronians fighting.

Radios and speakers crackled to life with muffled speech and static. 

“One titan has fallen. Retrieval commencing of the victor, due to limited supplies,” one from behind had said.

You watched the masked figure raise their arm and gesture towards their companions. “Take them in. We’re needed elsewhere.”

Something hit you on the back of the neck.

The last thing you remembered was slumping to the ground.

==

Protocol for groundbridge malfunctions was to keep the bridge open and perform immediate maintenance checks. Nothing and nobody was meant to go through, in the event the malfunction was still present.

Bumblebee and Raf had only returned once Ratchet confirmed the groundbridge was working as normal. Yet, there was still not sign of the second human.

Ratchet covered the bottom half of his faceplate with a servo, shutting his optics as his processor tried running through possible reasons for your disappearance.

“By all means, there is no precedent for the groundbridge to make an error like that, even with organic life like humans,” he said, mostly to himself, but loud enough that both Raf and Bumblebee could hear. “Typically, groundbridge technology fails because of issues with the equipment, including interference, or an introduced external factor like another groundbridge. As both of you went through normally, the issue is something with the latter. But with that option, the problem becomes what that external factor could be.”

“Could it have something to do with the time travel thing?” Bumblebee asked.

“Maybe. But with what little remains of our scientific database, how and why that would affect the groundbridge remains unclear.”

“Whatever it is, we probably can rule out another groundbridge,” Raf stated, pulling up the logs for the groundbridge on the smaller control panel next to Ratchet’s station. “Based on what happened in the Shadow Zone, we know groundbridges only need to be near each other for problems to start. We would have noticed much sooner if someone was basically a walking ground bridge.”

“That doesn’t tell us much, like where our resident time traveler is right now, and if it’s safe to close the groundbrdige. Unfortunately, if we don’t find out soon, we’ll use up a week’s worth of power.”

Just as the medic turned towards the larger control panel, three short messages appeared through Bumblebee’s commlink. The one connected to a familiar phone number.

‘w bulkhead’

‘breakdown’

‘help’

Then, two more texts.

‘smth weird w bridge, got sent to bulkhead, hes fighting breakdown, he might b losing, hard 2 tell bc im running rn’

‘humans ahead not sure if friendly’

“Ratchet, Raf, they sent me a message. They’re with Bulkhead, but both of them might be in trouble.”

Immediately, Ratchet pulled up the lever, and the bridge fizzled out. “Bulkhead is currently in the Kamchatka Peninsula investigating an energon signal. What’s the exact nature of the danger they’re in?”

“Breakdown’s there, as well as several humans. ‘Not sure if friendly’ is what the texts said about them. Which either means there are very mean-looking civilians with them or it’s MECH.” Bumblebee paused. “Did we ever tell them about MECH?”

Both Raf and Ratchet paused.

“…scrap,” Raf said, ignoring the warning glance Ratchet shot at him. “I don’t think we did! If they’re with MECH, that could be really bad.”

“Scrap,” Bumblebee cursed. “Ratchet, we need to tell Optimus as soon as possible.”

==

Cliffjumper knelt next to you. He was loud, but not yet yelling. “Bud, not that I’m not happy to see you, but now’s not the time! Wake up!”

==

Your eyes snapped open. Then, it felt like your mind was being split apart. You pressed palms to your temples, trying to hold your head together.  

Belatedly, you noticed a table in front of you, to which a man was sitting across. Your eyes flickered towards the lamps, where the artificial light cut into your brain like a knife. In the surrounding room, two masked figures stood guard.

“How are you feeling?” the man asked, the sentence clawing at the insides of your ears. He had a gray buzzcut, and two scars: one running above a brow, and the other traced on top of the speaker’s nose.

You squinted, trying to shut off most of the light to your eyes. “s’ bit bright. Mind turning it down?” you mumbled.

“I’m afraid that would defeat the purpose of this room. But, if you answer a few questions, perhaps we can come to compromise.”

You stared at the man, not even bothering to hide the look of caution on your face. “Like an interrogation?”

“I wouldn’t call it an interrogation, merely a chat between interested parties.”

“You say that as if I’m interested. I don’t even know who you are.”

“Is that so? Curious. I had assumed those that you’re living would have told you some things.”

Your eyes narrowed. “…Explain,” you said, despite the pressure building up at the back of your head.

“I was hoping that you would, my friend. But it seems as if the Autobots haven’t told you much. Don’t you find that a bit unfair for someone like you?”

Dark eyes watched your expression, which had been stunned far too long. Suddenly, your headache didn’t seem that bad with the growing unease you were feeling.

“…Who are you?” 

A smirk grew on the the man’s face. “You may call me Silas. Around me are fellow members of the organization MECH. Our goal is to create this world anew, for the strongest to survive.”

“…What do you mean by that?” you asked, though you beginning to dislike the implications of his words.

”Why don’t we start with how you think about the world in its current state?” He responded. “What do you think about humanity?”

“That’s… certainly a question to ask a stranger. I mean, I have my own reservations on the way things are and I’m not happy with the way we handle things most of the time, but that’s what most people tend to think. I think. What about you?”

Silas chuckled. “I think many would agree many things are quite flawed, but there are very few that are willing to do what it takes to make the necessary changes, no matter the cost. See, humanity will not survive the way that it is now. When those metal titans arrived on Earth, its fate was already set in stone. That’s why I created MECH. We do not intend this fate. We will become stronger through our technology, faster and wiser, to rise above our failures for the perfect world. Those that join us will have a chance of seeing that future.”

“…just the organization itself?”

“It would defeat the main mission if everyone was included. Too many people would complain what we’re doing is ‘unethical.’ We would end up with the same problems as before. Some care too much about the present to focus on the future.”

You shifted nervously in your seat, looking at the two guards who had not moved the entire time you had been awake.

“…how many people are in this organization? It seems like it’s pretty exclusive, and I haven’t heard of it before.”

“My friend, the invitation extends to anyone who agrees with the mission and are committed to the cause. Though, we personally prefer to scout out those that show an interest ourselves. As for the secrecy, well, the Autobots wouldn’t have been able to do as much if everyone knew about them, would they? The same could be said about us.”

“So then, how does this scouting work? Do most people accept, or do you see a lot of rejections? And if there are people that refuse, what happens to them? Hypothetically speaking, of course.”

Silas stood up, blocking the light from above. His silhouette and shadow grew over you, glowering at you with sharp eyes. Your mouth shut tight, and you internally berated yourself for note keeping it that way. “Seeing your interest, perhaps we should take a tour of the headquarters to show how we function. Of course, that is if you are committed to joining MECH. Otherwise, let’s just say our resources are rather limited for keeping prisoners or captives.”

“Hey, hey, I’m very convinced!” you said, holding up your hands. Your eyes felt like they were burning. “I think you’re doing… interesting things that I would not mind being apart of! I just didn’t know if you were committed! A lot other organizations… tend not to be?” 

“What’s with the nervousness, then?” Silas beamed. “This tour might just be a job orientation.”

“For free? Awesome. Great. Should I just… follow you, or…?”

“If you just sat in this room, there wouldn’t be much of a tour.”

“Absolutely! You are so right. Wow, it’s like you’re never wrong.” 

Silas continued to smile. “I’m glad to see you agree. Come, then.”

Slowly, as you could without agitating your head, you followed Silas and his three guards. It was in vain, as they were walking fast. You could only walk just as quickly as to not get lost.

The main hall had branched into various smaller ones, to which you simply passed by as Silas walked forward. All of them were sparsely lit, alternating quickly between dark and light like am empty street in the middle of the night. You felt nauseous trying to readjust your vision every couple of seconds.

In the distance, you could hear rumbling, like something being moved via train tracks. It echoed, loudly, before coming to a slow, but firm, stop.

Then, there was thrashing. And a shout that you recognized. Your heart skipped a beat when you realized who had been the ‘retrieved victor.’

The doors at the end of the hall slid open.

The room was decently sized, with a large computer at a platform’s center not dissimilar to the control panel at base. Flanking the platform’s sides were steps, leading down a track that snaked through a tunnel.

On it was Breakdown, strapped to a slab. Around him were various drills and lasers, all of which were aimed directly at him. On a table nearby, there was a series of differently sized buzzsaws, laying as if they were tools for surgery. A few MECH agents were cleaning and sharpening the blades.

Your eyes locked onto Breakdown’s yellow ones, and his face contorted into a sneer. “You,” he hissed, pulling against the cuffs as much as possible. “When my servos get free, I’ll make sure your death won’t be swift!”

“It’s best we don’t let that happen, then,” Silas interrupted. “After all, both of you are far too valuable for us.”

“Don’t know about Optimus, but Megatron would never pay a ransom. Though, the Autobots don’t take kindly to traitors, either!” Despite how you felt about the accusation, you kept your mouth shut. With your life at the mercy of a man who could kidnap a cybertronian, defending your honor was secondary.

“It’s a good thing that’s not what we’re looking for, then.” Silas turned towards the MECH agents by the computer. “Is everything prepared and in order?”

“All of the tools we need are present. At this moment, we’re turning off his pain receptors, sir,” one of them replied.

You stared at the leader of MECH, at the grin that was slowly growing on his face. “…what are you going to do to him?”

“We’re going to break him down, piece by piece, part by part, until there’s nothing new we can learn from him. Dissection is the best way to learn about a living organism, after all. Then, what remains can be turned into a new line of weapons for our cause. Of course, he won’t survive the process, but we’ll try to make it as painless as possible for him.”

Silas snapped his fingers, and the MECH agents assembled. One stood on top of Breakdown, carefully maneuvering around limbs that continued to thrash against their restraints, adjusting the drill just above Breakdown’s face. Then, the leader walked down the steps, standing next to the cybertronian.

Breakdown snarled, trying to hide a flinch. “When I get my servos on any of you, they’ll have to scrape you off the floor!”

“It’s a good thing you aren’t squeamish. We didn’t know how to make you stop watching anyways.” Silas glanced at the MECH agents at the computer.

“The pain receptors are fully off, sir,” they replied with a nod.”

“Good. Open him up.”

The drill lowered into Breakdown’s right eye. And you only watched.

With how tall and large cybertronians tended to be, alongside being made of metal, you had perceived them to be completely different from humans. After all, when Breakdown’s eye was removed, what remained in the socket were wires and tubes.

Yet, what was the human body, but tubes and wires too? They were certainly called different things, vessels and nerves, but they had similar roles.

Vessels pushed and carried blood, one of the human body’s most important fluids. The tubes, pulled out and sprawling out of the socket, played a similar role for the cybertronian, pushing and pulsing with the glowing energon. It flowed down Breakdown’s face, a blue line dripping onto the floor with a familiar viscosity.

Though the human nervous system used both chemical and electrical signals for touch and pain, it didn’t seem unreasonable to assume wires played an adjacent role. Even if Breakdown couldn’t feel the pain, he could feel the terror of watching himself getting ripped apart, bit by bit.  

Your nausea worsened, and a familiar thumping in your head returned. What did it say of you, a human, to only care when another’s suffering was familiar?

Bile rose in the back of your throat. The energon puddle grow.

Over the railings, you hurled.

==

Immediately, Silas sent you outside with two MECH guards. You walked for a while, and only when the scream of the drills quieted did you lean against the wall and sit down.

You folded against yourself, staring at the ground. One of the guards knelt down beside you, patting your back. “You know, that was a pretty tame demonstration compared to what we went through. First time we joined MECH, some guy, I think he was a rat or something, got into an ‘accident’ with the equipment. Man, there was so much blood, and I think Mike over here got splattered with some guts. Compared to us, you got it lucky.” The guard said it as if it was meant to be reassuring that dismemberment was normal around here.

Mike, the other guard, sat down, too. “Orientation for new recruits aims to ensure commitment to the cause. If dissent is present, our functions and efforts will fail. It’s… unpleasant, but it’s necessary for the greater good.”

Numbly, you stared at the both of them. “…you’re just okay with this?”

“We all joined MECH for one reason or another. Nobody leaves it until they’re dead. That’s just something we’ll have to live with.”

“Anyways, it’s not that bad,” the first guard chimed in. “Sure, I wish I went down other paths earlier in life, but all things considered, what we’re doing for the world is a good thing. Just, a little emotionally and psychologically taxing. Physically, too. But, someday, you’ll eventually see that this is worth it.” They chuckled.

Mike shot a glare at the guard who had spoke first.

“What? I’m just saying how it is. It’s better to let them know now than have them find out later. That’s how you get traitors.”

“There were better ways to communicate that idea, Trev.”

“Oh, shove off. It’s not like you’re the pillar of communication either.”

As they bickered, you were left alone to stew in your thoughts.

It was becoming clear that you had to get off here. The longer you stayed, and the more Silas thought of you as part of the organization, the less likely you’d be able to leave. As much as you didn’t like the possibility of dying, becoming some MECH recruit’s orientation horror story or contributing to the organization weren’t enticing either.

The problem with that was you weren’t exactly clear how you were supposed to escape. You didn’t know the layout of the MECH base, nor did you really know anything about them that would be helpful in this situation.

There was also the matter with Breakdown.

Although you didn’t know what he had done to Bulkhead, he didn’t deserve to be broken down like that while he was still alive. Besides, cybertronian technology at the hands of MECH would be disastrous for the Autobots, and the rest of the world. 

However, freeing him would be dangerous. After all, he made it quite clear how he’d rather see you dead.

Once again, you were faced with two choices, one for your own well-being, and the other for the other good. 

With your only resource being dwindling time, you wanted to see Cliffjumper first before making a move.

You pushed yourself off the ground, slowly rising to your feet. “Do you think it’s possible for me to go to a medbay to rest for a bit? My head’s starting to hurt.”

“Of course,” Mike responded, interrupting Trev. “Just follow us.”

You slowly trudged after them, taking note of the halls you walked past. None of them had signs to tell them apart, nor did they contain anything of note. You were left to simply count them as a means to keep track.

“…hey, there was a green cybertronian at the clearing, right?” you said, breaking the silence. “Whatever happened to him?”

“The one that lost?” Trev asked. You nodded. “Don’t know. He was alive when we got there, but because we could only get one of those robots here, we just left ‘em alone. Why?”

“Just curious.” You passed by the sixth hall you counted.

The seventh hall you were walking towards seemed the same as its predecessors. It was the same shape, the same design, the same height, the same everything that you weren’t even sure why you bothered looking down at it. 

Then, something changed.

It started with a rumble. A slight shaking that could be ignored if you accounted for Breakdown. But that rumbling became louder, with walls and lights quaking at what was to come.

The first crack on the floor was small and inoffensive. Then, a grinning, malicious line split the entire hall.

A chasm opened from underneath, like a widening mouth. The rocks beneath, like teeth that hadn’t seen the light for years, gnawed at the base of MECH’s headquarters.

Alarms blared. MECH agents and soldiers scattered.

Shouting for and of orders, demands to retrieve and exit as much as possible, were drowned by the Earth’s yawn.

Mike grabbed your arm, pulling you back towards the room Breakdown was in. “The quickest exit is through the tracks!” he shouted. Trev was nowhere to be seen.

Following him, you ran by five halls. At the six, the chasm’s lips split in front of you, and Mike tripped.

You tried to catch him as he fell. You managed to grab onto the tip of a glove, just as his hand slipped out.

What remained of him was the warm leather glove in your hand.

The ground shook once more, forcing you to your feet. Mike’s glove was shoved into a pocket.

You passed a seventh hall, leaping into the room. Several MECH agents ran past you, ignoring you as they sprinted out with as much equipment as they could.

Breakdown was left alone on the slab forced to watch as the building split in front of his eyes. The platform drifted farther away, despite the track’s attempt to keep the room together. As much as he pulled, he could not break free.

Laying on the ground, several feet away, was a buzzsaw. Something that one of the MECH agents must have dropped.

Your pulse thumped against your skull louder than the groans of the growing chasm.

Before you could stop yourself, you grabbed the saw and ran towards the restraints on the cybertronian’s legs.

Chapter Text

The saw screamed as it cut through the metal. Orange sparks ran around your arms, burns sizzling against your skin. You pushed on, trying to ignore how much wider the chasm had become.

Once Breakdown’s leg had been free, you moved to his left hand.

His fingers had twitched when the saw was placed onto the cuff. You could feel the hairs on your neck stand up.

The ground shook, and the floor cracked open. Your hold on the saw became unsteady, but the jagged line that made it halfway through the metal was enough to let the Decepticon pull his arm free, sending the cuff skidding across the floor and into the chasm.

With bated breath, you watched the cybertronian’s hand fly over you. You ducked out of its way, just as Breakdown went to remove the last cuff on his foot.

The tunnel behind you, the exit, began to crumble. Its entrance filled up with falling bricks and metal supports crashing down to the floor. When you weren’t needed anymore, you dropped the buzzsaw, and turned to the escape.

The floor collapsed, under your first step.

Cement shattered when it scraped by the walls of a widening chasm, gravity pulling it down into the depths. It tried to do the same to you, pulling you by the legs until you were below the surface.

In retaliation, your hands hung onto the crevices of protruding rocks that bit into your fingers.

With what remaining energy you had, you reached for the rock above you.

It broke when you tried to pull yourself up. Descending rubble echoed.

You watched its pieces disappear into the darkness, bouncing to the bottom. Left hanging and stranded by an arm, the abyss below stared back.

The ledge above crumbled.

A hand reached for you. Snatched your torso, and grabbed you upwards. Breakdown’s engines roared, trying to scare the large ceiling tiles and bricks that bounced on his roof. Cracks encircled his legs. The chasm lunged.

Breakdown’s grip on you loosened.

The two of you began to fall. 

==

There was a pool of water at the bottom of the chasm. Deep enough to cradle you when you hit its surface.

After getting over the shock of realizing you were still alive, you thrashed against the hold of water. However, without any light, you didn’t know if you were surfacing or if you were propelling yourself downwards.

When your feet managed to plant themselves on top of a solid, smooth floor, you tried to crouch to push yourself off the floor.

Your face broke through the surface the moment you stood. Cold air greeted you sharply, accentuated by the water dripping off your face. You wheezed, coughes and heaves echoing throughout the darkness.

Above, a singular, yellow light darted in your direction. Metal legs jumped, axles shifting suddenly out of surprise.

“…Breakdown?” You coughed.

A brief pause, before the cybertronian huffed. “…’Course it’s you,” he muttered. “Like a damn scraplet.” There was a thud when he sat down.

You tried to stumble to your feet with uneven steps, before falling to your knees, hunching over the surface of the water. Staring at your hands, now only halfway submerged, as if the pool had suddenly become shallow within mere seconds.

Small, yellow gleams rode on top of the ripples on the surface of the pool. When you looked up, you could make out stalactites dripping down from the ceiling, growing into teeth that sank into the darkness.

Drops of water echoed when they touched the floor, and the cave breathed. A chill permeated through your bones. The lack of light was suffocating your eyes, the surplus of sound was smothering your ears.

 “How far did we fall?” you asked, wincing when your voice was carried and echoed much louder than you expected.

“…Don’t know. I wasn’t keeping track.” Specks of drying energon were flaking off from his missing eye, dimming rapidly as they touched the water. 

You looked up at the gaping hole above, grimacing.

The walls of the chasm had many jagged crevices, but they weren’t pronounced enough for a normal person to grab onto. Even for a cybertronian four times taller than you, it was simply too steep, and too far of a climb without any equipment.

You wondered if MECH had known about this cave, if they had willingly chosen to build their base on top of it, or if they had been clueless about it the whole time.

You tried to wade your way out of the water, to find somewhere to sit that wasn’t wet.

A light washed over the cave, illuminating the knee-deep pool barely covering the bits of broken technology on the cave’s floor.

Squinting, you saw that the source had been from Breakdown’s headlights, attached to his sides. Yet, the cybertronian himself was looking to the side, refusing to acknowledge your existence.

Wordlessly, you stood up, briskly walking over the stones in your path, to a rock near Breakdown that was raised just above the water and large enough for you to sit on.

Breakdown gave no response, turning his lights off. You stared up at his eye, crossing your arms over your legs. “…thanks,” you muttered.

You heard Breakdown crane his neck, facing away from you.

The air in the tunnels gently weaved between the droplets of air. The walls, exhaling, inhaling.

“You should’ve continued running,” Breakdown said, several minutes afterward. “Would’ve saved you a lot of trouble. Now we’re both dying here.”

You sighed. Inhaling, exhaling. “Bit of a grim convo starter, don’t you think?”

“It’s the truth.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I’m still holding out some hope that somebody will find us.”

Breakdown sneered. “Do you really think the Autobots would help a human like you?”

“I hope so.” You craned your neck to look back up at his left eye. “You seem pretty adamant that there’s no one searching for us. Not even your faction. Why is that?”

You waited for an answer, but Breakdown did not respond. With another sigh, you leaned back against the rocks, closing your eyes. Resting. Waiting.

==

“…Seriously?” Cliffjumper deadpanned.

You yawned, scratching the base of your neck. “In my defense, it was dark, and I didn’t even realize I was falling asleep until now.”

“But next to a Con? Especially Breakdown?”

“…Admittedly, my survival instincts could use some work. But I think I’ll be fine.”

Cliffjumper crossed his arms. “Just because you helped him once doesn’t mean he’ll repay you for it. That’s just not how the Decepticons roll, even with those on their side. You should have made sure you were safe first.”

“I’m aware. It’s kinda funny. Breakdown said something similar earlier.”

Cliffjumper scowled. “Don’t compare me to him.” You snickered, then shrugged.

“Anyways, my stupid choices aside, you wouldn’t happen to have an idea on how to get out a 100-something feet ditch, would you?”

“On your own? Wait for help. Best case scenario, the Bots find you. However, it seems more likely those MECH guys will. And that’s if we ignore Breakdown.”

“As well as assuming there aren’t aftershocks from the Earthquake.”

“…Assuming that was a normal Earthquake.”

“Oh? What do you mean?”

Your friend craned his neck, momentarily avoiding your gaze. It was quick, as if he was trying to hide his discomfort. “It might be because I’m not used to Earth, but something about this doesn’t feel right. It’s almost too convenient when the tremor started, you know?”

You thought back to the cave, how its water had been deep enough to stop your fall safely, but then shallow that it did not reach above your knees. Unless gravity somehow worked differently in this universe, Cliffjumper was right. “…If there is a force associated with this, one that’s powerful enough to control Earthquakes like a deity, why would they help us?”

“…Maybe you’re like Earth’s version of a Prime?” Cliffjumper suggested, followed by your immediate befuddlement. Seeing this, Cliffjumper continued. “I don’t know the specifics, religion was never my thing, but some cybertronians believe that our planet is a deity called Primus, and Primus chooses cybertronians called Primes to represent the planet. Maybe the Earth itself is a deity, and it decided to choose you.”

 “…Hm. If I were a planet deity, I’d choose someone from my own universe to represent me. It wouldn’t make sense to choose someone like me. So that’s probably not it.” However, if this universe did have deities, knowing how they worked could explain many things. If you made it back to the Autobot base, you should probably make the effort to ask. “You think Optimus would know anything about this?”

 “Of course he does. He’s the Prime.”

“Oh. Oh! That’s why he’s called-!” your hand bumped against the side of your head when your neurons finally made the connection.

Cliffjumper smirked. “No wonder why you fell asleep next to a Con.”

“I like to see you try to form a coherent thought after getting kidnapped.”

“Been there, done that.”

“Well, at least I’m still alive.”

“Ouch. Low blow. But not low enough to be as short as you,” the cybertronian taunted.

“I’m going to kick your shins. That would be a low blow.”

Both of you glared at each other, but it was hard to keep the smile off your face. You broke first, letting out a laugh. A grin spread on Cliffjumper’s face, the edge of his eyes wrinkling as he tried to remain stoic. He failed in the end.

“You know, I’m surprised you’re still here. How long has it been?”

“Don’t know. I should wake up though, just in case something’s happened.”

“You should. Keep yourself safe, okay?”

“As long as the Earth deity lets me.”

Cliffjumper snickered. “Still, be careful around Breakdown. He and Knock Out are known to be wild cards, especially by Decepticon standards.”

==

You didn’t get the chance to ask who Knock Out was before you found yourself surrounded by an unusual warmth. Like you had been lying down next to a car that had been in the sun for hours.

You leaned forward, away from the cave wall. You went to stand up to your full height, but your head bumped slammed against a metal ceiling that was camouflaged in the dark.

You cursed, clutching your head. Above, you heard creaking metal joints as Breakdown’s metal hand withdrew from above you. Though you could only see his eye, you could feel the rocks vibrate while he shifted away from you.

A sudden rush of cold enveloped you, and you shivered. It silenced you, as you stared at the Decepticon.

“…You talk when you recharge,” he said, after a period of quiet that seemed to last forever.

You continued to stare, bewildered, and confused. “…I’ll keep that in mind,” you responded. “So, uh, how long was I out?”

“…Thirty kliks.”

“How long is that in minutes?”

“I’m not your translator,” Breakdown bit.

“Ah, okay. Any new changes, then?”

No response was given. Breakdown shifted his gaze towards the ceiling, depriving the cave of a light source.

Then, the cave began to shake.

It was like a rapidly approaching thunderstorm, barely audible at first, with small rocks falling from the sides of the chasm. But with each passing second, the rocks grew bigger, and a screech from the cave’s mouth grew louder. Like the Earth was screaming from its own decay.

From a nearby wall, a purple light spilled, like an abscess that had been growing behind the rocks. More and more light pooled into the room, illuminating the stalactites and stalagmites from their dark curtain.

Then, something fell into the water. Small, but bright enough to infect the shallow pool with an unnatural purple glow. The tunnels stopped breathing, and the water stopped flowing. The chasm quieted, as if it had lodged the source of its pain from out from its skin.

You unfolded yourself from your shell of arms and legs that had been protecting your head. Beside you, Breakdown stood up, pressed against the wall, avoiding the water like it was infected.

You, on the other hand, stood back up, and gently began to wade through. Drawn to the light like a moth to a flame.

“What are you doing? Get away from that thing!” Breakdown barked, voice cutting through the silence like a hammer.

You stopped, just as you stood before a sliver of crystal. Sharp, like a knife, barely larger than your hand. You craned your neck crouching down to look at the stone better.

“This looks a lot like energon, just, really purple.”

“Because it’s Dark Energon. Don’t touch it. Get away from it,” Breakdown warned.

“How come?” you asked, standing back up. “Is it dangerous?”

“…It changes mechs, warps their mind until it’s the only thing they can think about. Like they’re possessed by Unicron itself,” Breakdown scowled. There was a tremor in his hands, afraid to be in the presence of the light emitted by the crystal. 

Wordlessly, your hands reached into a pocket.

Water spilled out of them in short-lived waterfalls. Then, a leather glove. A loud splat echoed in the cave as it fell.

It's cold, you realize when you go to pick it up. Despite this, it almost burned to the touch. You closed your eyes, trying to suppress the sudden rush to your stomach.

Slowly, you wring the glove, listening as water droplets patter back into the pool. You put it on and reached for the crystal. Though it was heavy, the glove weighed heavier in your mind.

“What are you doing?!”

With a deep inhale, you reel your throwing arm back.

On exhale, you thrust the crystal of Dark Energon into one of the tunnels. Once again, the chasm dimmed.

“Out of sight, out of mind,” you said, turning back towards Breakdown. Your non-gloved hand tucked its thumb inside the glove, carefully pulling it off, stuffing it back into your pocket.

Breakdown stared at you, eye narrowing. But it began to lower back down, metal scraping against the rocks as he sat down again.

A bright white light flooded the cave, leading you back towards the dry spot you had slept at. Carefully, you made your way back, avoiding the new rocks in your path. When you returned, the light stayed back on.

You sat down, shivering at an unexpected breeze, and refolded your arms over your legs. A metal hand, emanating a familiar warmth, gently cupped over you like a tent. Though you kept your distance, to avoid getting caught between seams or joints, you couldn’t help but give a small smile. Breakdown ignored it.

In silence, the two of you waited.