𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 ━ transformers

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲-𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

The testing takes forever. Ratchet won't let Galloway near me until he's done with everything. It's both a blessing and a curse; a blessing because I don't have to be around Galloway, and a curse because it takes an eternity. The first thing he does is stick some needle in me, extracting six tubes of blood out of me, the color burning such an ugly purple that it makes Ratchet sigh.

Next, he moves me to a cylindrical bed in a brightly lit room, guiding me gently onto the cot. He assures me that it'll only be for a moment, but the machine hovers over me as it turns, circling. It's dizzying so I keep my eyes closed. I'm reminded, for a moment, of the examinations on my body, of the way they turned me over and forced a machine to look over me. My teeth grind together. I don't stop shaking for fifteen minutes, and that's when he takes an X-ray of my full body, starting with my chest and moving down to my wrists and legs.

It's nothing new, but the familiarity of them does nothing to ease the panic rising in me. The last time I had X-rays done on me, the doctors were trying to figure out exactly what happened to me that prevented my legs from walking. The only difference now is I'm standing instead of laying down on something.

Ratchet takes the X-rays, pushing me up against the grid, the coolness of it giving me chills. He works through it quickly, precisely, telling me when to hold my breath, when to release it. They're simple. Easy. It's not so hard.

But my legs still shake. My stomach still churns. I have to take stuttering breaths to ward off the oncoming terror. I can almost feel the cool shackles on my arms--can almost feel them weighing on my ankles.

"Are you alright?" Ratchet asks as he positions my legs correctly for the next X-ray.

"Yes." I nod. The word comes out in a breath, and I want to push his hands off me, but they disappear before my hands can move on their own. I release another breath; Ratchet says something else and then it's over. It's all completed. He'll have results soon.

Dad's sitting on the ground outside when I push myself out of the lab. I wring my hands in my hospital gown, going over to him. He wraps an arm around my shoulder. To the right, Galloway stalks up, eyes harried and footsteps quick.

"I said an hour!" he exclaims, looking small against Optimus Prime's giant stature. "It has been well over three!"

"Change of plans," Ron says blankly, kicking himself off the wall. "We aren't taking orders from the humans anymore."

Galloway's men approach, and they stand behind Galloway, hands readied on their guns. I track the movements, listen to the way they're breathing, slow and measured. Ready to strike at any time.

"What do you mean 'change of plans?'" Galloway glares at Ron-Ironhide, my mind supplies angrily. "I don't think you understand who's in charge here, do you?"

Optimus raises a hand. "What Ron means to explain--"

"I meant what I had said," Ron states easily, voice dark and threatening. Optimus sighs from beside him. "You are not educated in Cybertronian matters, therefore your say on the topic has become useless." He looms over Galloway, his eyes piercing. His posture reminds me of a thunderstorm, terrifying and dizzying all at once. Something flutters in my chest. I have to look away.

"And you think that you'll have more luck figuring out how they messed her up?" Galloway glares at me, angry and unhinged, almost. He's breathing heavily. Someone lays a hand on his arm. "She's a threat to national security. She needs to be detained before she can hurt anyone! You saw what she did!"

Detained. I almost wish. I don't like this confrontation, nor the way that all of these men seem prepared to fight each other should the chance arise. I wish Mom were here, wish I was holed up in my hospital room. I wish that stupid apparition would have never appeared before me.