Walking turns out to be a task. I have to lean on Ironhide as he follows behind Ratchet to the autobot hangar. Luckily, it's not as long of a trek as it would have been coming from the old infirmary, but my back is twitching painfully and my legs are burning by the time we reach the gaping hole in the door, voices already echoing out of the large room.
"I am still pleasantly surprised you managed to knock an entire door off its hinges," Ratchet says like he's trying to cut the tension. A bead of sweat collects on my forehead when he glances back at me, the same look scientists have on their face when they see a new lab rat. "If you don't mind, I would like to take some tests. When you're feeling better, of course," he adds, and I assume Ironhide glared at him because he went tense beside me.
Because my voice still isn't working, my throat as hot as the underneath of a volcano, I only nod. Ratchet accepts this graciously, herding us along. I keep close to Ironhide, because I don't know who this Bumblee is, and I need answers from Cliffjumper, but he is being quiet. I feel dislocated, like I'm not on the right plane, not on the right earth. Months ago, I was worried about an internship, and now I'm worried about the voice in my head and whether or not a murderous Cybertronian is going to return for me.
"You okay?" Ironhide presses into me, voice low. I nod, glancing at him slightly. I don't want him to see the panic in my eyes. Fear would have me paralyzed if he wasn't with me. I huddle closer to him, shivering, wishing this was just a nightmare.
My throat aches uncomfortably.
Ratchet hums a tune as he leads us into the main part of the hangar. With hooded eyes, I see what the commotion is about. My dad is on the same platform I was on last night, absolutely screaming at two Cybertronians, one green and one orange. Mudflap and Skids, I realize. Huh. They're. . . smaller than what I imagined, but they still have the same flair as their other forms did, accents southern and twangy.
"And did you even think about how much she could have been hurt had she not moved out of the way?" Dad shouts, red in the face. It's blotchy and a little uncomfortable to look at, and I sigh silently, walking slowly towards the commotion, head already aching. "It's out of pure luck that she's alive right now!"
"'Ey, now how were we 'posed to know that little Ellie was in 'ere?" the green one, Skids, if I can remember correctly, asks. Skids, the one that's less serious and wants to be seen by Prime so badly that he will do anything even if it means risking lives around him because one day, one day of course, he's going to be seen by Optimus himself and Mudflap will acknowledge it too, and--
I shut off my brain, eyes widening. It felt like a computer screen had loaded into my brain and was feeding information into it, but I never asked for it. I didn't want to study it or know more about Skids's sad truth, and yet here it is, as bold as lighting on a stormy day. As true as the sky is blue.
"Yeah, man, she don't show up on no sensors," Mudflap, the orange one, who is the same as Skids but in different ways. The both want to be noticed, but they are stronger together, and that's because of the split spark and Starscream fought them once, and it almost ended disastrously for Starscream, but he won't admit it because he's too big for that, Megatron will see--
"Eleanor," Ironhdie says softly as I tuck my head into the crook of his shoulder--right where it meets his neck. My breath is shallow, and everything is starting to hurt now. There is too much information in my brain, and I can almost see the fight, and my dad is still screaming at the autobots, and Starscream is screaming his vengeance in my head, and Ironhide is warm, but he cannot keep this ice out.
I shake it off. I try to stop the shivers, the shaking, but they remain. I really just want Cliffjumper. I hate it, hate to admit it, but he knows stuff. He is the key to everything, and if he could just help me. . . If he could just tell me what's going on.
"Ellie?!" Dad says, waving down at me from the platform. "Hi, baby, are you okay?!"
"She cannot speak, Colonel," Ironhide calls up to him. I send Dad a thumbs up, trying to steal more of Ironhide's warmth. "Though we cannot discern why, I bet it has something to do with what you slaggers did." Ironhide addresses the twins, and then someone brings me a chair, and I sit, putting my elbows on my knees and breathing slowly as though that might help the spinning and nausea.
"Don't go blamin' us, now, you slaggin' brute," one of the twins says, indignant. "Like we told Pops here--ain't no one see her on a sensor."
Ironhide scoffs, resting a hand on my head. It is hot where mine is cold. I sigh against it, clenching it. The spinning continues. "You lie to save your own aft," he says, warning in his voice.
"I am afraid the twin's are correct," Ratchet says, and there's metal in his voice now, like he's in his true form. I wonder when he left us. I don't look up to see him. In my head, Starscream is laughing.
I wonder what's funny.
"What are you on about, Ratchet?"
Ratchet sighs. "I have used every one of my scanners, and she appears on none. It is as though she does not exist. Colonel Cambridge and every human in the base are coming up, yet she remains elusive, gone. It is uncanny. The twins truly did not sense her."
"We ain't no liars!"
"Of course not." A giant foot breezes past me, the metal pressing too close to the floor and scraping the way that Starscream's foot did on the pavement. I wince when I hear the voice, the timber of Optimus Prime. I curl in closer to myself. "What Ratchet says is true. Eleanor is no longer able to be detected by our scanners."
"What do you. . .?" Ironhide trails off, and I imagine him to be pondering over what it means, that I cannot be seen as a human anymore. Not as a human or a robot. I am nothing. Just a wisp of someone that can't be seen by the most technological creatures in the world.
I can feel his eyes on me. In my head, I can hear Starscream's laughter. It mocks me this time, and I hate it, but I hate when Ironhide takes his hands off me even more. His footsteps patter away, and then my Dad is there, but it's not the same, not really. I want Ironhide, but I can't ask for him because he probably thinks the unthinkable, and I guess that's okay, too.
Cliffjumper, I try one more time. Anyone?
There is the telltale noise of transforming, and then Ironhide's normal grunt. Relief swells in me when I realize he has not abandoned me.
"This cannot be true," he says. There is a sadness in his voice, like water dropping, falling, falling, falling. He is not happy. I clench my eyes closed, as tight as they can go, because he sounds apprehensive, like it's not the fact that bothers him but it is me. I bother him. "Just last night. . ."
"You did not hear her come in did you," Ratchet says, assuming.
Ironhide's silence is enough.
"I had thought so." Ratchet hums thoughtfully. Dad rubs my back. There is more clanking and then, "Ah, Bumblebee, our very own. Would you like to give some insight as to what you think Eleanor's issue might be? I have some guesses, but since you were affected directly, I'd like to know your side of things."
The metal steps get closer and then far away, veering left, but human footsteps come until there's someone beside me, their body warm, and their hand on my shoulder. Dainty but strong. Work hands. Woman, probably. Kind, but stern.
I glance over. Her hair is brown with grey speckled in it, falling around her shoulders in a grunge sort of way, bangs falling over her eyes. She is older, perhaps in her thirties. Her smile is kind, but worn, like she's been where I am and she knows, and it's sympathetic and empathetic all at once. She rubs my shoulder like we've known each other our whole lives, but addresses the Cybertronians when she speaks.
"Bee doesn't have a clue what happened either," she tells them, a twinkle of worry in her eyes. I can't take my eyes off her. "He was just there to catch her, then she started screaming. Strong set of lungs you got there, Eleanor. Can I call you that? Or Miss Cambridge. I guess that works, too."
I still cannot speak, so I give her a nod of affirmation before my eyes trail over to the noisy footsteps headed towards the other Cybertronians.
And when I look up, my entire heart stops.
Memories are sporadic and fleeting, but I know the yellow as though I invented the color myself.
Attached to the blue eyes, the ones that shone brighter through the dark storm than even the sun could, is the yellow bot from my dreams. My memories. The one that saved me. Cool skin on even cooler metal. The fighting. He fought Starscream. He almost won, I think. I don't remember.
My throat burns.
He is B-127.
I cough, and then I think I cry, but I don't know. Gratitude demands my attention, but I cannot tell B-127 that I am indebted to him for everything he did. I can't tell him I'm sorry that he lost everything and yet he still continues to fight. I can't fight the pain in my heart or the ache in my side.
My throat burns.
"I only meant to catch her," he says, and his voice is metallic, but that's funny because I don't remember him ever being able to talk. He didn't talk to Starscream when Starscream yelled at him. His voice was ripped out by the one called Blitzwing. "I didn't think I'd steal her voice."
The voice is rich, smooth like water over stones. It sounds young--younger than Optimus Prime or Ratchet. I watch, entranced and breathless. My legs tremble though I am sitting.
"Well, yes, that does seem to be the issue here," Ratchet says, crossing his arms over his chest. I flick my eyes over to him for a second before they return to B-127. The one they call Bumblebee.
"Wait," Dad interrupts, sounding shocked, "Eleanor's voice is now Bee's voice?"
Optimus replies, "It would seem so, Colonel, though it is not in the way you are assuming. Eleanor simply lost her voice, and it seems as though Bumblee has gained it. Something must have gone wrong when Bumblebee stopped Miss Cambridge from her descent. Ratchet has some speculations--"
"None of which are good."
"--but we are optimistic that everything is well within her as of now."
"As of now?" Dad clenches one of my shoulders. "And later?"
"We have no knowledge," Ratchet states simply, and I can't help but think there is an acceptance in his tone, like he's come to terms with the fact that what is wrong with me simply will continue to be unexplainable. "We never expected to be on. . . Earth, and certainly not for this long, which is why we have no knowledge of human anatomy when mingled with Cybertronian metal."
But Cliffjumper does, he wants to say. Cliffjumper has what they need and I have Cliffjumper. Maybe--maybe if I just tell them what Cliffjumper wants to tell me, then we can solve this. They can get the voices out of my head; Starscream will stop laughing. I won't have this knowledge or these emotions tainting me.
"Is she. . ." going to die?
Dad's voice is choked, the impossibility of the question too much for him. Ratchet's solemn shrug is nothing to go by, and the hand on my shoulder only gets tighter.
My throat still burns.
On my whiteboard, I write out "thank you" over and over again, but I don't show this to B-127 who is the yellow robot who is Bumblebee. My hands tremble, unsteady, and the 't' looks wrong and so does the 'u' and this robot has my voice, apparently. I just gave it to him, took it out of myself and handed it to him on a silver platter, and Ironhide seems to be disappointed in me. Ratchet talked like I was going to die, and everything in me hurts. I just want to know why I'm here when I could be in bed, resting.
"You don't know that for sure," the woman beside me says with an undercurrent of wrath. "Let's not write her off before she's had a chance, now."
"No one is saying that Eleanor's life is not important nor valued, Charlie," Ratchet replies. I rub my eyes, then my throat, kicking my legs out in front of me. "I am just stating that the information we have regarding her. . . situation is little to none. We are searching for a solution in the dark. Certainly, you can understand how trying that might be."
Charlie, what a nice name for her rugged face, says, "Yes, I understand very well, Ratchet. But I also understand that while she waits here like a sitting duck, the others are coming for her. I know they are."
Others? My stomach flutters. What others?
Ironhide sounds angry when he answers. "You think us to be incompentent, then? We have taken every precaution to ensure Eleanor's safety. We would not jeopardize it again."
"Did I say you didn't?" Charlie snaps back. I glance up at Ironhide's irate expression, regretful that I can't do anything. I want to figure it out if only to ease his mind, to ease Dad and Mom and everyone else who is worrying about me. I curl the board to my chest. "I'm just saying, whatever they did to her body, they succeeded. They aren't going to let her go so easily. They're going to want her back."
Starscream. She means Starscream. My eyes widen. Again, he laughs in my mind as though he were behind me, over me, staring and mocking and telling me how inferior I was before he sliced me open. It can't be true. . . I mean, I knew he would want to finish--but I never thought that he would actively seek me. Not now. Certainly he'd wait a couple of months, maybe a year, then he would try again.
"You continue to speak in circles, foolish human," Ironhide spits. I wince at his obvious insult, and rock back and forth, Charlie's hand still trying to soothe, to smooth out the wrinkles in my soul. "You lack filter. This is not your concern, and it never has been. Know your place."
"Ironhide--" Bumblebee starts.
Charlie says, "It became my concern when she passed out for half a day after giving Bee his voice back. It became my problem when you personally contacted me and asked me to meet Eleanor if only to help her adjust to knowing your irritating ass. I am only talking about what you have been too scared to tell her! You haven't even mentioned Starscream circling around like an animal searching for prey! Does she not have a right to know? You're letting her sit here, ignorant and--"
"Enough!"
Starscream shouts it at me, and I flinch back, breathing in deeply, hoping that I don't get punished again. I sat there. I let him put the metal in my body. Why is he screaming at me? Why is he glaring at me, his eyes angry and red, so red I think my blood is reflecting off them.
But when I keep looking at them, they change and they are blue, and then it is Ironhide's face, vicious, a hard set to his mouth. He is so, so angry, and I am fearful, cold and trembling.
Whistles pierce my ears, like there's too much wind, and I clench them, closing my eyes. I breathe out, then in, then out--over and over again until it doesn't work.
Dad's hands are irons on my body, yet it trembles like it's freezing.
My throat burns.
Enough!
Enough, enough, enough.
Words are said. I can't hear. My ears are deafened by sirens. Every breath is a hot stake through my lungs, my throat. What is going on? I can only see darkness. Where is Starscream? Where did he go? He was right there, in front of me. He screamed and screamed, but I didn't do anything this time.
Where did he go?
I feel trapped, something pressing me down. I fight it; I can't go back there, to that metal slab of a table. I can't let the creature work on me. So what if I die out here? Let it happen. Anything is better than that torture.
But I can't stop hearing Starscream in my head when I know it was probably Ironhide. What if they're the same? What if Ironhide is just Starscream in disguise--has always been? They can change forms and it's probably the only logical explanation as to why Ironhide even wanted me. They cannot be separated because they are--
Eleanor, stop this nonsense right now.
Gasping, I search the black room blindly, hunting for Cliffjumper.
"Cliffjumper," I scream, but my voice still doesn't work, and I can't see him.
You are well, he says next, tone blank but comforting after hours of searching for him, wanting to see him. Stop making a fool of yourself. It is unbecoming. Foolish femme.
Starscream, I bite back.
Is not here. Ironhide got too worked up, the giant brute, and scared you. You're in the hangar. You're fine, but you won't be if you do not stop projecting right now.
Projecting? Projecting what? I can't even see.
That's the problem, fragger.
Oh.
It must be like that time where I showed everyone my memories instead of recalling them. I flick my eyes back and forth blindly, aware now of the hands holding my arms down.
Eyes fluttering shut, I picture the hangar in my mind. I was talking with the Cybertronians, and Charlie was arguing with Ironhide. He was the one who yelled. It wasn't Starscream, just reminded me of him. It's okay.
He won't hurt me the way Starscream has. There's nothing to be afraid of. I'm safe.
And melodramatic, Cliffjumper adds, and it makes me smile for some reason, a huff of laughter escaping before I have to roll my neck, hands bound and throat aching.
It's grounding, and it helps my vision come back. Slowly, the gray concrete appears and then everything else as I look around, embarrassed but exhausted.
When will Starscream stop haunting me?
Dad is the one who has his arms around me, and we are on the ground, rocking back and forth.
"It's okay, Ellie," he's whispering into my hair. "Everything's okay. We're going to make it better, okay? Won't be like this forever, I promise."
I fear it might, but I don't say anything. I stare at the concrete, then tap him twice to let him know I'm better, I can breathe. I relax into his arms for a moment, before I remove myself.
Sorry, I write on the white board when I pick it up. Didn't mean to scare you.
I show it to him, and he only kisses my head, saying, "Didn't scare me. Just worried, is all. You okay?"
I nod.
Cliffjumper is still present. I can almost feel his nausea at the familiar affections. It makes my bones jello, the sturdy presence of him in my head, reminding me that I'm not alone.
The intrusion would have angered me a while ago, but now, I almost welcome it. Even though he stabbed me in that weird, dark place, I think he was helping instead of hurting. I can't be too angry with that.
And I have information that you need.
Ah, yes, the real reason I want you around.
Cliffjumper rolls his eyes while Dad helps me stand. Embarrassment washes over me as I realize that everyone--everyone--saw me freak out over one measly word. One phrase and it sends me over the edge. How pathetic. I sigh out, averting my eyes.
I erase the last sentence on the white board and hold up the Sorry. I know they can see it because of enhanced vision and all, but it still fills me with shame showing them.
"Eleanor, you have nothing to apologize for," Ironhide says from my right, and I gasp, holding my hands out to ward him off. I hadn't even heard him come towards me. His eyes are concerned, and it melts me knowing that he rushed out of his normal form to come check up on me in his human one, even if the fear is present. "Sorry," he says, when he notices my apprehension, frowning hard. "I didn't mean to scare you earlier. I was irritated--"
So we saw.
"--but that is no excuse. I shouldn't have raised my voice."
"Yeah, no kidding," Charlie says, coming up behind him. She's a foot shorter than him, about my height, but she seems to command the whole room with how little she cares. "Always expected I'd make you lose your head one day, 'Hide, just didn't think it was today."
Ironhide sighs. "You certainly are the most insufferable human I have ever met. It is a good thing that I see you once every few deca-cycles."
"You really know how to hurt someone," Charlie replies, but she doesn't seem bothered by Ironhide's dismissal of her. She seems amused, like they've known each other for a while.
I want to ask about how they met. Ironhide never mentioned that he knew another human besides Dad and Will and the military. He acted like he hated everyone, but there is a familiarity the two of them share that indicates they might be closer than what they let on.
A stone settles in my stomach. I turn away before the bile can rise through me, reminding myself that it's not like that.
I sure hope not, Cliffjumper says, disgusted. If 'Hide likes two femmes, human ones, I might offline myself.
'Hide. She called him that as well. Her own nickname.
Matter of fact, the one called Chromia, Cliffjumper's partner, called him the same thing. Maybe it's just a common nickname. It might not mean anything. Certainly couldn't if there was more than one person calling him that.
Oh, but Chromia and 'Hide were together, Cliffjumper states, snorting. She's the one who gave him the nickname, you blubbering fool.
The floor falls out beneath me. It shouldn't matter. It doesn't. I know how I feel about him and he says he knows how he feels about me.
But the lies are piling up. It is a massive hill and I am at the top of it. They keep rolling up and up, adding more. This new one sits at the top like the crest, an icy thing that threatens to cut into my heart. It pokes at my chest, fluttering and angry. My hands shake by my side.
Starscream's laugh haunts me again, like he finds this entire thing hilarious. I wonder how close he is to us. I wonder if he's outside, circling around, waiting for me to go out so he can snatch me.
I scratch my head. I need the sound to go away. I hate his laugh. I hate his everything, but I also hate the fact that I still am in the shadows. I hate that Ironhide is keeping things from me when he promised. I hate that Dad is in on it and Mom, too, and they're asking and asking if I can help them, but they won't help me. The keep a blindfold on my eyes, letting me walk blindly through the dark.
Okay, let's not get too hasty, Cliffjumper says. They're doing what they think is best for you. You have no idea what awaits out there.
A laugh bubbles out of my lips, and it surprises me when it's audible. I snort, clutching my stomach because this whole situation is hilarious.
Found the Cybertronian who found me. Found out that Ironhide was keeping more from me. Starscream's close. Theo's alive, but the brother I once knew is dad. There's a new woman that Ironhdie knows, that he knew before he met me, one that he seems close with.
Cliffjumper is in my head, and he never shuts up, and he's so cryptic that I want to scream.
And I can't trust anyone.
I look around, laughs spilling out of me, and none of the faces are recognizable. It feels like I'm staring at strangers. Ironhide is concerned. Dad's concerned. They're all concerned. So concerned.
How sad. How moving.
How pathetic.
Starscream's voice echoes on that last sentiment, and for once, I agree. How pathetic for them to be concerned when it is them who are making me this way.
"What, dare I ask, is so funny, Miss Cambridge?"
Theodore Galloway walks towards me with a group of men. My shoulders shake at his attempt to look commanding when he's only five feet tall. His face screws up when I don't stop laughing, even when one of his men make an attempt to step towards me.
Enough, Starscream said.
Enough, Ironhide shouted.
Enough! Starscream shouts, but this time it's in my head, and then the laughter stops.
It sounds the same as when Cliffjumper peers into my mind, like he's right there with me.
And then fear settles in.
I was hearing his laugh for a reason. It wasn't a memory. No, it's because--
Ah, but you are too late, you foolish fleshbag, he sneers, and for a moment, I can see what he is seeing. Lush greenery beneath him, blurring in his vision. He is flying, giant trees swaying in the wind that he creates with his wings. Miles ahead, there's the base.
He really is here.
I try to close my mind off, but something rings, shrill and steady. I clutch my head, grunting.
Someone comes up next to me, arm raised to try and help, but I shove them away with a grunt, and something in me snaps.
"Get off!"
An overwhelming amount of arms snake around me a moment later, tightening until I can barely breath. Starscream is pressing himself towards the front of my mind, and my eye is burning, and something is trickling out of my nose.
"Get out!" I scream as Galloway's men take me away despite Ratchet's and Ironhide's protests.
I don't hear Dad amongst them. My heart sinks.
I wouldn't.
But I can't see to find out.
"Leave me alone!"
I push at the arms like it might stop Starscream from fully entering my mind, but it doesn't work.
He laughs victorously as he shoves his way into the front part of my brain. I try to call for Cliffjumper, but he is nowhere to be found, and my stomach is fluttering. My legs are weak, yet I still thrash against the hold the men have on me.
"Take her. . . can't. . . too dangerous!" Galloway says.
". . . not allowed to. . . she's our responsi. . . Do not take. . ."
". . . isn't well. . . clearly misguided. . . her eye. . . has a nosebleed. . ."
Those human emotions, Starscream purrs. That's what's killing you. Making you weak. Maybe we should remove them. It worked for T-959.
And then something stabs me in the arm and the head at the same time.
Starscream pushes me away from the forefront of my mind, and everything falls into blackness.