"Autobots, Decepticons."
The cybertronians shifted their heads to see Agent Fowler approaching them with a hard look on his face. The humans grew nervous just by his expression as he stopped next to the Autobot Leader.
He gazed at them for a second before meeting Amal's eyes, which shined with anxiousness. And suddenly, he broke into a smile and she relaxed with a sigh. "You did good, kid. Real good." He told them. Amal smiled slightly.
"You think so?"
Fowler nodded. "That with the fact their in there, casting their votes now with a lot in favor of teaming up with you lot...yea, I'd say you did pretty decent." The group around her grinned as they all relaxed.
"So you think they'll be able to stay?" Miko asked hopefully. Fowler nodded to confirm her wish. "I believe, and hope, so Miko." He said as one of the Pentagon workers approached.
"Am—All...Amall-uh—" "oh for primus sake—uh-mal-guh-muss. You know what, I don't even know why I bother. Just call me Amal. Uh-mal." Amal told the worker, who apologized before standing straighter.
"You are requested in the court room, ma'am." He said. Amal looked at Megatron with a strange look before looking back at the worker. "By who?"
"The President, ma'am."
Amal's mouth went into an 'o' shape. "Oh." She whispered, as he motioned her in the direction of the court room. "This way, ma'am." He said as Amal started toward it. "Don't ma'am me." She grumbled as he started to follow her.
"So, are we just going to sit around and wait?" Miko asked. Ratchet sighed, resting his hand of his face while the Decepticons watched their friend go off.
"It seems so, Miko."
~
Every head in the room turned as the door opened. Amal swallowed as she stepped in, quietly thanking the pentagon worker who held open the door for her. The door shut behind the blonde haired girl and all eyes were on her as she walked slowly down the aisle of the court room.
Amalgamous didn't like being in there, but she knew what she had to do to help her family. She needed to be strong for them, and in order to protect herself as well.
The judge looked at his paper. "A-mell-gameous?" He read our slowly. "How do you even—? It's uh-mal-guh-mous. Just call me Amal." Amal told him slowly. "My apologies, Ms Amal—" "just Amal. No Miss, no ma'am, no madam. Amal." The blonde haired girl told him. The judge gave her a hard look before nodding.
"Very well, Amal. Now, do you understand why you've been called into here?" He asked her. Amal shook her head, suddenly getting an uneasy feeling in her stomach from the amount of pressure on her. "The president of the United States has personally requested your presence, something very rare for somebody like you." Amal frowned at that.
"Then what does he need?" She asked. The judge glanced at the jury. "Your speech and the evidence Agent Fowler has presented us has been very helpful in your case here. But right now, the President would like to know one small missing detail." The judge told her and Amal raised an eyebrow.
"How did the Decepticons get ahold of you?"
Amal was taken back. "Pardon?" The judge have her a look while leaning against his podium. "Agent Fowler told us you were raised by Decepticons. Was it against your will, or—" "now hold on one second." Amal said angrily, waving her hands.
"Why would you just automatically assume it wasn't against my will?" Amal asked. The judge leaned against the podium with a clenched fist. "We don't know their intentions on this planet." He told her. "That doesn't mean you assume the worst." The blonde haired girl told them.
"Then tell me, how you came to be in the Decepticons hands."
"Servos."
"Pardon?"
"Servos. Cybertronian hands. Wanna know how I know that? They taught me, just like they taught me how to walk, how to read, how to talk; cybertronian, a language no human has learned, English, German, Russian, Italian, Spanish, Latin, shall I go on?" Amal watched their expressions shift from a questionable look to an impressed one.
"They taught me how to fight, how to stand up for myself, how to fly a jet, to drive, to run faster than any human can, to be...me." Amal breathed in deeply before looking around at the people in the court room. "And you know what? It doesn't matter what they taught me, or how they found me, or even how I've grown up with them because you know what the important thing is—?" She questioned, of course knowing that no one would answer.
Amal looked at the judge confidently. "They've saved my life. From emerging splashes, from blaster fire, from falling off objects, from almost everything you can imagine. They have saved my life physically and mentally. These bots are my family."
"You can't be family with someone who has glow stick juice running through them."
"A wise doctor once told me family don't end in blood. And it sure as hell doesn't start with it." Amal told them, almost glaring at the person in the jury. Amal took her gaze back to the judge. "These Cybertronians raised me to be who I want to be."
"And what do you think you can do as a human young girl."
Amal's fist clenched while her eyes narrowed.
"I am not a human."
The people in the court room looked confused at each other while the Judge leaned closer in interest. Amal glared.
"I'm a Decepticon."