These Paths We Tread (Autobot x OC)

LXXV. Helplessness Blues

Having had quite enough of being treated like a rag doll, Catherine let the goon tug her once before ramming her fist into his throat. He let out a croak, and then groaned when she brought her knee into his groin. She had to leave him be as the other grabbed for her, but found only air as she ducked down and shoved her elbow into his gut. The blow didn’t do much, but her fist into his nose made up for it, as did swinging her arm into the side of his head. With both men out of the way, she brushed off her clothes and turned to the Russian man, whom was no longer as amused or as calm as before. In fact, she would dare say she saw a bead of sweat dribble down his brow. He had nothing to worry about; the other men were making their way over and she wouldn’t be able to take them all. The Russian wasn’t worth her time, either, and so she met his gaze with a cold stare.

“I don’t need an ‘escort’. Just tell me where the room is.”

She could see him swallow before he gestured behind him, “The main show-case room—just down the hall and to the right.”

Catherine made a point to pause as she walked by the Russian man and make a feint jab in his direction. She chuckled a little, giving him a knowing look, and continued on down the hall alone. The goons had listened and she entered into the room the man had described without a problem. Indeed it was a show-case room; more than a handful of fancy, classic cars that had been shined to perfection were situated around the floor. She briefly thought of scratching them or busting their headlights, but she decided against it and walked her way through to one of the lush couches in the center of the room. They were comfortable as expected, and she situated herself so she could stare out the large windows which extended from the floor to the ceiling, giving her a clear view of the city.

It was burning now; the night sky was lit with a red glow and smoke was obscuring the stars. She could just imagine all the screams as the people died either by Decepticon claws or blaster or the collapse of buildings. She knew there was worse to come, too, and that made her stomach churn more than ever before. It sank when she spotted a large shadow moving in the darkness just outside. It didn’t take long before she made out a pair of orbs which glowed blood red and she knew there were Decepticons patrolling outside. It made her wonder briefly if her captors really were working for the enemy or were prisoners themselves. It was overcome by spite and anger in the next moment, however.

When the Decepticon vanished from her sight, she spared the city one final look. A building collapsed in the distance, and she had to turn away. She closed her eyes then, breathing in deeply to push back the bile trying to come back up her throat. It wasn’t easy; there were almost too many emotions trothing through her stomach to fully soothe it. At the very least her anger had been vented some, although it still lingered there, ready to explode given the chance. Fear was strong, too, but she had long since learned how to bite it back, and so worry took its place.

Footsteps from the entryway caught her attention and she looked to find two of the goons taking up point on both sides of the door, their arms clasped in front of them like actual guards. Neither of them were the ones she struck, but they would be spared from hostilities regardless. There was no point in her lashing out right now; she wouldn’t be able to escape—it was one thing to catch two of them off guard, but there were bound to more—and then there was the fact she was stuck in enemy territory with a Cybertronian guard or possibly multiple guards outside. If she left, a Decepticon would surely kill her, and so, while she loathed it, she was going to have to stay here until a far better opportunity came along—particularly involving the Autobots.

With a sigh, she leaned back her head and closed her eyes.

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