The Intergalactic Highway

This story is co-authored by myself, Blackangel001, and Hot Rod's Girl, both of whom are on fanfiction.net. This story is also located on my DA account, and Blackangel's fanfiction account.

Disclaimer We do not own Emergency or Transformers, or anything related to those franchises. We just wrote this for fun. The OCs, Irina Johns, Melissa, Amberclaw and Dawnstar belong to me personally. As do any other OCs who may pop up in the story.

Chapter 1

The station alarm sounded, thankfully after breakfast was finished. There was a slight clatter of dishes and silverware, along with the sliding of chairs, as everyone responded. However, for this emergency only the paramedics were required, so everyone except John Gage and Roy Desoto hurried toward their truck. The others proceeded to gather their dishes or simply go off to do something else.

Roy checked the address given to them on the map, as Johnny rushed toward the truck, getting in on the passenger side. Once Roy pinpointed the location they d been given, he hurried over to take the driver s seat. He then ignited the engine and drove out of the station, lights flashing and sirens blaring.

They headed down the street, honking the horn in warning as they went. Thankfully there hadn't been many problems lately with careless drivers, but the horn always helped in case people weren't paying attention to the siren or the lights.

They took a couple of turns, heading down a couple of other streets until they reached their destination. Roy pulled over to the side of the road where a line of houses were, all of them close together. It was a nice looking neighborhood, even if the homes were a bit too close together in some places.

Moments after Roy parked the truck and shut off the engine, he and Johnny spotted what appeared to be a blond-haired woman in her mid-thirties, wearing a sundress covered with a red flower pattern, gesturing at them with her arms.

Gage and Roy got out of the truck and instantly went around to the side of it to get their gear. As they got it out Roy began to ask the questions. "What seems to be the trouble?"

The woman looked concerned, and she gestured toward one of the houses. "I-I found this girl wandering around outside a few minutes ago," she said. "I took her into my house, right there, because she s hurt and she just seems so... I don't know, lost."

Roy followed the woman to her house carrying the drug box and biophone. "Ma'am is she injured?"

The woman nodded, frowning with concern as she shoved some of her hair out of her face. "She looks pretty bad. I mean, her arm seems to be broken. There's a piece of bone sticking out of it, I think." She reached for the doorknob as they approached the front entrance, and she held the door open for the paramedics.

Roy walked into the living room and immediately saw the young girl sitting on an armchair, staring at the wall. Her arms were sitting limply in her lap. The paramedics could see the injury the woman had been talking about, and it did look nasty. Johnny knelt down beside the girl and spoke softly. "Hey, there, my name's Johnny Gage. I'm a paramedic for LA County Fire Department. What's your name?"

The girl's eyes flickered briefly as she turned her head ever so slightly. However, her gaze had an unfocused quality, as though she was aware of his presence but was not acknowledging it. She seemed to be staring off into space, her expression almost completely blank. Her eyes seemed empty.

Johnny glanced at Roy, who was pulling out splints and gauze. He inched closer to the girl and spoke softly. "Alright, we're gonna take care of you here now. How old are you? Want to tell me how this happened?"

Roy set up the biophone. "Rampart this is squad 51, how do you read?" Dixie's voice responded. "Go ahead 51, this is Rampart."

"Rampart, we have a young female, looks about 15. She's got a compound fracture on her left arm, no other apparent injuries." He looked up at the woman who was watching them nervously. "Ma'am, are you a relation of hers, or do you know them?"

The older woman shook her head. She was standing a few feet away, keeping out of the way but watching everything closely with growing concern on her features. "No, I've never even seen this girl before," she replied. "I was just getting ready to go out on errands this morning and I saw her walking down the street, alone. When I saw her arm I took her inside, but she barely seemed to acknowledge my presence at all. It's almost like she's spaced out or something." The woman shrugged, the corners of her mouth still turned downward in a large frown.

The girl closed her eyes and sunk back against the chair. She almost seemed to go limp within it. Air was sucked in through her mouth, causing her chest to move as her lungs expanded, then she released the breath through her nose. Perhaps it might have been a sigh, but regardless it seemed to take a bit of effort. "Leave me alone," she said in a barely audible voice. Her gaze remained unfocused; she wasn't looking at anyone or anything.

Johnny pulled out his penlight, switching it on and flicking it in her eyes to test the pupil response. That looked good. "Now, we can't do that, we've gotta look after you. Are you hurt anywhere else? Your head?" He gently probed the back of her head, not feeling anything. "What about your abdomen, any pain there?" He pressed down carefully on her abdomen and didn't feel anything there either. "Have you been taking anything? Any medications?" He hated to ask that, but the way she was acting made him think that there may be drugs involved, legal or otherwise.

Roy was talking to Rampart again. "Rampart, we can't locate the girl's parents, and she isn't very responsive. There's no signs of drug use, though." Instead of Dixie, Early replied.

"10-4 51. What are the vitals?"

"BP is 90 over 60, pulse is 90, respiration is 70."

"Is there any sign of a head injury?"

"Negative," said Roy after raising an inquiring eyebrow to Johnny and getting a shake of the head.

"Alright, start her on LR IV, add 10 milligrams MS. Splint and wrap the arm in gauze, but do not attempt to straighten it. Is the ambulance there yet?"

Roy stood a little so he could look out the window. "Negative Rampart, estimated arrival time is 13 minutes."

"10-4 51. Transport as soon as possible."

Now the girl released something like a growl from her throat and tensed up a bit. "Leave me alone," she said again, although this time she spoke with a bit more force. Her voice seemed to hold a bitter edge to it. She tucked her good arm in close to her abdomen and attempted to do the same with her broken arm, as if trying to resist being touched or treated.

Johnny sat back a little, surprised. Then he leaned forward, keeping his voice low and gentle, trying to sooth. "Listen to me, sweetheart, okay? You're badly hurt, and need medical treatment otherwise your arm may hurt to the point where you lose your arm. Do you want that?" He hated to scare her like that, but she needed to understand that it was important to get her treated. Roy came up with the IV needle, line, and bag, ready to insert it. Johnny shook his head a little and Roy paused. "Sweetheart, we don't want you to hurt anymore; we want to take care of you." He tried to meet her eyes, and gently put one of his hands over her good one. "Let us take care of you?"

Something flickered in her eyes for a moment. She seemed to be considering his words, and perhaps something was beginning to register. Then she slowly glanced down at her arm. She pressed her lips into a thin line, then seemed to make a slight shrugging movement of her shoulders. "Whatever," she finally said, her tone more apathetic than anything else. She moved her arms away from herself, as if offering them to be looked at. Then she rested her head back against the chair and closed her eyes.

"What's wrong with her?" the older woman asked, staring with widened eyes. She placed a hand over her mouth.

Roy put one the tourniquet and put in the needle, making it quick so it wouldn't hurt for long. Once the IV was going, he injected the MS into the port. Johnny held the girls hand and ran his thumb over the back of her fingers, trying to be soothing. Without looking up at the woman hovering nearby, he said, "She'll be okay. We're gonna take good care of her." He frowned with slight concern when she kept her eyes closed and seemed to close out the world. Roy stood and went to the woman.

"All we know for sure is her arm. We'll find out more once we get to the hospital, maybe." He looked back over to Johnny and the girl, then back at the woman. "Did she tell you anything about herself? Her name, her age, where she's from?"

A thoughtful expression crossed the woman s concerned, nervous features. "Not much," she answered, shaking her head slightly. "She wouldn't really talk to me at all. Although she did mumble out loud a couple of times, but it sounded like she was talking more to herself. I couldn't understand what she was saying most of the time, but one time I am positive I heard her mutter, 'I have nothing to live for anymore.'"

Roy's eyes shot to the girl in concern. Before he could say anything more, the sound of a siren stopped outside the house. Roy turned his attention to the window where he saw the ambulance attendants pulling a gurney out. When he turned to Johnny, he saw that he'd already put on the splint and gauze on the arm and was speaking to her quietly. He looked back to the woman. "Ma'am, we're taking her to Rampart General Hospital. If you want to follow, that's fine. If you don't, that's fine too."

Johnny tugged gently on the girl's hand. "Okay sweetheart, the ambulance is here, so we can take you to the hospital and get you better. Come on."

The woman nodded her head slowly. "Sure, I'll follow. I want to see if she's alright."

The girl seemed to be looking at Johnny now. Her expression was still blank, but her eyes had locked onto the hand that was holding her good hand. "I don't want to go anywhere," she mumbled. "Why should I?"

He smiled softly, reassuringly. "You need to get your arm fixed, and my partner and I just can't do it here with what we have. The docs at Rampart will be able to fix you up even better. Don't worry, I'll go in the ambulance with you. Alright?"

Sucking in a breath, the girl seemed to think about it for a moment. Then she looked up at his face, narrowing her eyes slightly. "Why do you care what happens to my arm?" she asked dully.

"Because I know that it hurts and I don't want you to be in pain." Johnny searched her eyes, trying to convey his honesty and sincerity to her. "Because I know what life will be like for you with one arm, and it's not very good." He squeezed her hand.

Two men entered through the front door with a gurney at that moment. The girl glanced briefly in their direction, then back at Johnny. "Okay, fine," she mumbled as she scooted herself forward, to the edge of the seat. With Johnny assisting her, she stood.

"But you know," she went on quietly, glancing up at John's face, "even if my arm gets fixed it won't change anything. I won't feel better." She looked away.

Johnny looked at Roy quickly but Roy shook his head in a 'later' type of gesture. Johnny made sure she was situated on the gurney and got into the ambulance with her. He tried to draw her out in conversation, but she remained silent. Finally, they were pulling up to Rampart Emergency and going through the double doors to an exam room. Early came in seconds later, followed by Dixie.

The portable x-ray will be here in a minute, and I've called for an orthopedic surgeon," he said to the medics while looking at her arm. "Hi, I'm Dr. Early. Why don't you tell me how this happened?"

First the girl glanced at her arm, then glanced up at the doctor, blankly. Then she simply rested her head against the gurney and squeezed her eyes shut, much like she d done back in the chair at the kind woman s house. "Doesn't matter," she said dully.

Early looked at John and Dixie looked at Roy. The doctor looked back to the young girl. "Alright, we won't worry about it for now. What's your name?"

She remained silent. The only noises that came from her was the air that went in and out of her lungs, her chest rising and falling evenly as she lay there. She kept her eyes closed, and her breathing sounded steady yet slightly off occasionally, as if it was taking more effort to breath at times. Yet there was no evidence of any chest or abdominal problems.

Dixie came around Joe and looked at her, putting a hand on her shoulder but said with authority and some sternness, "You aren't helping yourself this way, you know. There's some information we can hold off on getting, but we need a name to put on your files, so we don't get them mixed up with someone else's. Now, young lady, what is your name?"

The girl s eyelids flickered open in response to the head nurse s words, or perhaps her tone of voice. "Irina," she whispered. Her gazed wandered heavenward as she uttered her first name, as if looking at the ceiling or something beyond, perhaps.

Dixie nodded and asked, "That's a pretty name, got a pretty last name to go with it?" The x-ray technician had come in, and Early and the medics were stepping out.

"Johns." The girl then turned her head away from Dixie, squeezing her eyes shut again.

The nurse nodded again. "Alright Irina, we're going to take pictures of your arm now, and then we'll get some blood and some history from you, okay?"

Irina sucked in a breath, making a noise that sounded something like a quiet whimper. Her eyelids cracked open, but she didn't really look at anyone. "Just do whatever you want to do. Then leave me be."

Early touched Dixie's arm lightly and with one last look at Irina they left the room. Out in the hallway, Roy told Johnny, Early, and Dixie what the woman had said the girl had said, which caused looks of alarm among them. Early called the psychology department to see if a doctor would be available to talk to Irina sometime. They also called the police and gave her name and description hoping that a report had been made and someone was looking for her; otherwise, she'd have to go to a foster home. The tech came out and promised Early that the x-rays would be processed soon. Dixie went in the room with a tray of needles and tubes on one side and some papers on the other. Roy and John left to go back to the station.

Chapter 2

Irina allowed herself to be moved from the gurney onto the hospital bed that had been set up. She kept her eyelids squeezed shut, trying to tune out the world around her. She was somewhat aware of people moving about, and beginning to check her over to make certain she had no other injuries. She also felt her ailing arm being handled gently, apparently taking the splint and gauze off so that it could be examined.

In some ways, she was a little grateful for all the commotion around her, because it distracted her a little from the pain. Not the pain in her arm, but the deep, black hole that had been growing and expanding in her chest for at least a week now. Had it been a week? Or two weeks? Time no longer mattered to her. There was only emptiness in her soul now.

It took her a few moments to realize that someone was talking to her, trying to get her attention. This fact did not fully register in her brain until she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, along with her name being spoken firmly. She opened her eyes, to peer at whomever was trying to talk to her.

The anestegeologist smiled at Irina and explained that she was going to put her to sleep now and the effects of the gas and medication, what might happen after she woke up. While she spoke, she was measuring out medication in a needle and injected it into her IV. The doctor came up next to the woman and stared down at Irina, looking calm and sure.

"I'm Dr. Myers, I'll be performing the surgery and keeping an eye on you with Dr. Early. You'll be just fine in a few hours." With one last smile the anestegeologist put a mask over Irina's face. Slowly, the world went out of focus before fading completely.

At station 51, Roy and Johnny were brooding over the run with the mysterious girl with the broken arm. They sat at the table with lunch in front of them and the engine crew on either side, but instead of eating they more or less picked and pushed at their food. Captain Stanley looked between the two with some concern but knew better than to ask what was wrong. When they were ready to talk about it, they would. For the moment, they would just let it go. Before they were halfway through lunch the klaxons went off. There was a tense pause as the dispatcher made the call.

"Station 51, Engine 49, Battalion 14, assist Station 16 with second alarm at 689 Winders Rd. 689 Winders Rd. Time out, 1349."

Before the call was even halfway finished both the engine crew and paramedics were in their rigs and turning on the sirens. When the doors were open the rig and squad sped out and down the street.

The place was like a preview of what hell would be like, they thought as they pulled up to the scene. The house was fully involved and the other houses near it were beginning to catch fire from the blaze, the trees were getting the same way. With no hesitation, the engine crews that had just arrived began pulling out their hoses and Roy and John were helping, as there were no casualties at the moment to tend to. The Battalion chief called a second alarm.

Very soon they began to spray cold water onto the fire from the hoses. The flames seemed to roar in response, unwilling to go out without a fight. The fire was the heaviest in one specific house in the middle of it all, so it was obvious where the fire had originated. But the important thing now was to keep it from spreading even further.

Yet even as Captain Stanley observed the scene, in the midst of barking out orders and assisting himself, he thought that the entire scene looked odd somehow. They d been in rough spots before, but somehow this did not look like a typical house fire. It almost looked like several fires had started at the same time and spread simultaneously. Could this have been done intentionally?

Just then there was a sound a loud explosion. Several of the firemen glanced around, trying to determine the source. Then they saw what appeared to be a car that was on fire. Flames engulfed the interior completely, so that if there had been anyone inside, it was certain that they had been burned to a crisp now.

Then, almost immediately after a few of the firemen spotted the burning car, they saw another vehicle. It looked like a pickup truck. It pulled out from between two of the burning buildings and screeched to a halt in the middle of the street. Then, after a moment of hesitation, the truck turned away from the scene and sped off, engine roaring and tires screeching all the way.

Hank found himself staring at the pickup as it moved away, blinking. Was it just him, or was that truck somehow moving without a driver? He shook his head. He was probably just seeing things, or maybe it was just smoke in his eyes or something. Besides, he had no time for delusions; he had a job to do.

It took practically the entire LA County Fire Department to put out the fire that had spread through nearly the entire neighborhood and it took many hours. The engine crews were getting their gear together. Roy and John were tending to a fireman who'd gotten caught in a flash. When they pulled up to Rampart with their patient, there was a flush of activity as the burn unit took control. When the flurry had died down, the pair was left standing in the corridor, with no one hardly around.

They found out what room Irina was in and went up to see her, even though they were tired and soot covered. When they got to the room, they found Dixie, Early and Myers in the room. Everyone turned to look at them as they came in.

"Sorry, if this is a bad time we can come back," said Roy quickly. Myers shook his head.

"No, I'm leaving now. Everything looks good, just need to keep that arm still for a few weeks." Myers nodded to Irina and the others, then took his leave. Dixie looked the medics over and looked at them.

"What in the world happened to you two? You look like you've been through an inferno."

Johnny chuckled weakly. "You could say that, I guess."

Roy lifted a hand and rubbed some soot from his face, only managing to smear it all over the place. "How're you doing Irina?" They both stepped a little closer, stopping short of being too near her. "Sorry, but we stink, bad."

Irina's head turned a little in their direction. Her eyes searched them over, as if trying to place them. Though she seemed to recognize the paramedics voices, at least. However, except for a brief flash of recognition, she gave no response. After a few seconds she simply looked away again and resumed staring at the ceiling.

Johnny smiled and took a step closer. "Hi Irina, how you feeling kid?" She was looking a lot better than the last time he'd seen her, she wasn't as pale, there was a little color in her cheeks, but she was still so skinny for her age.

Her head didn't move, although her eyes darted in his direction. She swallowed and her lips moved slightly, as if she was trying to ease herself into talking. Or perhaps she was trying to decide if she wanted to speak at all. Her voice seemed to catch in her throat. She sucked in a breath, then she tried again. "Don't remember your name," she finally finished, quietly.

"I'm Johnny Gage, this is my partner Roy DeSoto," he said, not that surprised she didn't remember his name. It was a result of shock and the anesthesia. "You feeling any better from the last time we saw ya?"

Irina's lips pressed into a thin line. Then her mouth worked a little, as if she was trying to form words. It seemed like she was having trouble speaking, or having a hard time finding words. She continued to look in his direction for a moment, then she turned her head away, looking at the wall away from them. She released a long breath that sounded like a sigh.

Johnny lost some of his smile. "Hey, kiddo, nothing went wrong with the surgery did it?" There was a true hint of panic in his voice. What if the surgery didn't happen in time to prevent serious damage? What if she didn't get full use of her arm because of delayed treatment? A whole list of 'what ifs' went through his mind, and with each one, a look of panic went across his face.

She continued to stare at the wall away from him. However, after a moment she did reply in a quiet voice. "Don't care about the surgery. Things were bad before my arm got hurt anyway." Her good hand moved beside her on the bed, clenching into a tight fist against the sheet. "Nothing's gonna change. Even if my arm does get better."

Dixie stepped up and put her hands on her hips. "Would you gentlemen mind stepping out for a moment? Irina and I need to have a talk."

They knew better than to argue when she had THAT tone of voice, so all three men went out the door, the only real noise they made was when Roy coughed hard. Dixie waited until the door was firmly closed before she turned back to Irina.

"Well then, if that's how you feel about it, why did you let us help you at all? If you don't care, why don't I call Dr. Myers back so we can take off that cast and send you on your way? It won't matter one way or another, right?"

Slowly, Irina's head turned in the nurse's direction. She was now looking at Dixie's face, though not really meeting her eyes. Her hand relaxed a bit, laying flat against the bed so that it was no longer in a fist. "I guess I do want my arm to get better," she said eventually. "But after that, nothing else will change."

Dixie let up a little bit but not much. "Of course it won't, unless you do something about it! There isn't a problem in the world that's so terrible that you can't fix it with a little determination!" Dixie softened considerably more with what she said next. "If you need help, it's okay to ask for it, we'll help you."

Irina shook her head, then proceeded to stare at the ceiling again. "Yeah, well, that's what the others said, too." She pressed her lips together again, going silent.

The nurse sat on the edge of the bed carefully. "What others," she asked softly.

The girl sighed a bit. In truth, she didn't want to answer the question. But something about the nurse's tone, or perhaps her determination, made her loosen up at least a little bit. She continued to stare at the ceiling, but she spoke anyway. "It's a long story. But let's just say I've been let down before. People SAY they'll help. They say they'll always be there for you. Then they either leave you or turn you away." That last sentence ended with a bitter edge, almost as if Irina was trying her hardest to keep from crying.

She took the girl's hand and rubbed her arm. "Irina," she said, still in a soft voice, "there are people like that in the world, unfortunately. And they won't care if they leave you hurt and broken, and those are the most despicable type of people on the face of the earth." The venom in her voice surprised Irina. "But there are people who won't hurt you like that on purpose if they can help it. And you know, we helped you, didn't turn you away. We won't, not when you need help."

Irina shook her head again. "Isn't this just a job for you?" she whispered, sounding strained. There was pain in her voice. "I mean, I bet you get a lot of people in this building every day. Once you've decided they've finished healing, they leave and I bet you never even think about them again." Irina's eyes darted around the room.

"This is more than a job for me, much more. Yes, it is impossible to remember everyone who comes through here, as fast paced and busy as we are. But that doesn't mean that they don't leave an impression on me. I may not remember them in my head, but I remember them in my heart, where it counts. And there are patients that I still keep in touch with, even from a few years ago." Dixie looked from her face to the wall. "There are lots of people that I still see even though they don't come to the hospital for treatment."

"Yeah well maybe that's true," Irina murmured, then tugged her hand free from Dixie's grasp. "But I don't want help. It seems like I just have bad luck with people or something." She sighed again, then looked at the opposite wall once again. "It's not just a matter of people turning you away, you know. Sometimes they DIE. Then you're left behind trying to cope. Then when you think you've found someone to fill the hole they left, to be there for you they turn you away."

Irina closed her mouth. She'd said far more than she'd intended to say. Why was she even bothering to tell this nurse anything? Once her arm was healed she would just be out on her own again anyway, one way or another. The only reason she was there at the hospital anyway was because of her stupid broken arm right?

Dixie glanced at her and then back at the wall. Her voice was still soft, but had taken on an edge again. "There are some things I've learned about human nature, and that's that if we ever really want to understand something or someone or their actions we have to talk about it. It's how we communicate our feelings and thoughts." She stood and looked back at Irina. "A doctor named Scott Edwards will be coming by to see you later, after dinner."

The teenager's face fell. "Oh." She frowned at Dixie.

"Don't look at me like that," Dixie said, feeling truly bad. "At least talk to him once, and after that you won't have to see him again, if you want. Now then, try to eat a little more than you did this afternoon, please? I know the food isn't that good, but humor us."

"I don't feel like eating." Irina rested her good hand on her chest, staring heavenward again. "I'm not hungry."

Dixie paused from straightening a few things in the room. "Okay," she said calmly. "I'll be back in a moment with an IV line and bag for you then."

The girl made a slight shrugging motion of her shoulders. "Whatever."

"Whatever indeed, since you're going to be getting three IVs now, and all because you won't eat meatloaf."

Irina blinked. "Three?" she repeated halfheartedly.

She nodded. "Three. You need fluids, which is that IV, you re getting a morphine line, which is two, and then the third is so we can get the nutrients you need, so yes, three."

"What if I don't want any of them?"

"You don't have much choice in the matter, Irina. We're in charge of taking care of you, and if you won't eat physically, then we'll have to get you the vitamins and such somehow. You wouldn't need the third if you eat, you know."

"Whatever," came the resigned reply, once again.

"Alright, if that's the way you want it," she said as she walked to the door. She was hoping Irina would change her mind about it, she wasn't looking forward to this.

The teenager said nothing more. She did not even look at Dixie again. She seemed to be staring off into space, once again.

When Dixie came in again, it was with all the things she needed to set up the third IV and Dr. Early behind her. As Dixie put the IV in carefully in a vein in Irina's leg, Early stood next to the teenager and looked sadly at her.

"I've contacted Child Protective Services," he said. "They'll be here tomorrow to see you."

Irina gritted her teeth. For once, the mostly blank expression was replaced with something that looked like strong irritation? Anger? "So," she said in a snipping tone, "first I have to talk to some doctor, then I have to talk to some other people tomorrow? She narrowed her eyes. Can't everyone just leave me alone?"

"If we did that, then you might end up with your other arm broken, or worse." Early rubbed his hands together. "You know, you don't have to talk to CPS tomorrow, if you don't want to. You can talk to them anytime you want."

Dixie looked up at Early with some hidden surprise then at Irina. "Alright, there you go. Be careful moving this leg, and try not to if you can help it. Sure I can't get you something from the cafeteria? Nothing you want?"

Irina refused to look at either of them. "Just let me sleep," she muttered.

With a shared look, Early and Dixie walked quietly out of the room.

Chapter 3

Johnny fell onto his bed with a weary sigh and a groan. His entire body was sore and bruised and he was so tired he was starting to think his eyelids would never be fully open again. There were too many fires for the department to handle and every man available was on permanent standby. They were even pulling in the guys from Pasedena fire department but they couldn't be there all the time. Without really being aware of it, Johnny fell asleep. Then the klaxons went off, making Johnny jump up more on autopilot and still half asleep. When it was for a major fire, they just went ahead and released all companies. Johnny was aware of his shiftmates wearily jumping into their rigs and felt the adrenaline give him a rush, waking him up more and more. They all sped off to the fiery inferno that waited for them.

Once again it seemed that a large area had been set on fire. No one could yet determine just what was causing these fires, although both the fire department and the police were beginning to suspect they were all connected somehow. One clue was that it seemed like the fires were always started from multiple locations at once, whenever they had a new inferno to deal with. Another sign was the fact that there were a few vehicles which had apparently been spotted by witnesses at nearly every scene.

One vehicle that was regularly spotted was a pickup truck, and a few reports stated that witnesses claimed the vehicle was moving without a driver. This reminded Stanley of the pickup he'd seen during the first major fire, although he still wasn't sure what to make of it. Cars and trucks did not drive themselves.

Another vehicle that was often spotted was a convertible, and a fast one at that. It was often seen fleeing the scene before-or sometimes, just as-rescue squads arrived. Again, this one appeared to be "without a driver", which of course made no sense.

The third "vehicle" was actually an aircraft. An unidentified, unauthorized jet was sometimes spotted fleeing the area just as help crews arrived.

The fire marshals couldn't understand it. The fires appeared to be started by gunfire of some sort, and explosions, and no one could seem to get the plate number for any of the vehicles. The military was just as confused. The aircraft was one of theirs by design, but the markings were not registered nor in any database. They were on alert for the jet constantly, but unlike the firemen and police they had more manpower to spare. The military was also making their own firemen and MPs available to help the civilian departments, which helped the strain the men were feeling, just a little bit. But it didn't help figure out what connection the vehicles and jet had to the fire.

Another clue was that there seemed to be strange transmissions detected from time to time, especially from the aircraft. It was usually on a frequency that was barely used by anyone in the military, and each time the voice that spoke in the transmissions was very odd, almost… mechanical. And it seemed to speak an odd language. It was like nothing they'd ever heard of before.

With the latest inferno, they began the long fight to snuff out the roaring flames, knowing that they were already going to be here for the rest of the day. In fact, they proceeded to fight the fire even into the night, and into the early hours of the next morning.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm starting to think there's some kind of conspiracy going on here," Chet said with a little irritation and a lot of anger.

"You always think there's a conspiracy going on, Kelly," responded Mike. He leaned against Big Red heavily, taking a deep drink of water. All of 51 was taking a much needed break, but they had to go back in soon.

"I think I'm starting to forget what it's like to be a paramedic," mumbled Johnny.

"Don't say that," groaned Roy, "you'll jinx us and then before you know it, we'll have wounded."

"Okay, okay." The rest of the break was spent in silence as the men drank from their bottles of water. Then, all to soon, they had to go back.

It was late in the afternoon, almost evening, by the time they finally got the fire under control. But not before considerable damage had been done. In fact, this fire seemed like the worst one yet. Once they finally had it under control though, they proceeded to put it out.

And that was when something odd, and frightening, happened. The jet which had been spotted and reported on numerous occasions suddenly appeared, as if out of nowhere. Its engines roared as it passed over the smoky and smoldering area, then began to circle overhead as if it were looking the area over.

Then, all of a sudden, it slowed and made a brief nose-dive toward the ground-specifically, toward one of the fire engines, and opened fire. Several of the firemen had to leap out of the way as the truck exploded into flames, and pieces of the truck went flying in all directions. The jet had fired some very powerful weapons.

However, it did not fire again. Instead it pulled itself up, moving skyward, and then circled from above a couple of times, as if observing their reactions. Then, suddenly, it simply flew off, and was gone, out of sight.

There was a mad scramble as firemen and police officers ran forward to help the men and to put out the flaming engine. The batallion chief was putting in a call to headquarters, telling them what happened and calling for ambulances. The paramedics were in a mad rush to get the wounded taken care of. There was a triage set up, and considerable manpower was taken taking care of them. The military was called and before long, two military F-15's flew over the scene, making the men flinch involuntarily. They circled and then flew away, although they could be heard.

At Rampart, the ER was awash with patients from the fire, squads were calling in almost non-stop, and the burn unit was starting to send patients to nearby hospitals, and people were out in the halls. Nurses and doctors were being called in, and it still didn't seem like enough.

In her room, Irina was still lying on her bed, not moving and not really speaking to anyone. She'd pretty much refused to speak to the psychiatrist, and she had made it clear that she didn't want to speak to anyone else, either. And thus, especially in the midst of all the busyness due to the recent infernos, she found herself alone in her room for the most part. Which was fine by her.

However, she did manage to catch snippets of conversation from time to time. At one point, she overheard something about a jet. This had caused something to click in her brain, although she said nothing about it at first.

A few hours later, things had more or less settled down at Rampart hospital. The patients were stable and recovering, although it was obvious that a lot of the doctors and nurses would be forced to pull a double-shift.

After a brief cup of coffee, Dr. Brackett began to assist with the rounds, checking on all the patients. When he entered Irina's room, she glanced at him as he walked in.

"Excuse me," she said in a quiet voice, "was there a jet out there?"

Brackett looked up from her chart. "Not out here, no. Why do you ask?"

"Um," Irina hesitated. "I thought I overheard somebody say something about a jet, causing damage out there in the city somewhere."

He put her chart back and walked over to stand next to her, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, there was a jet in the city." He hesitated, then said, "It blew up a fire engine, caused lots of firemen and police officers to get injured. Don't worry, though, it doesn't seem to be one of ours."

Irina looked at him intently while he spoke, then she glanced away. But this time the gesture was not dismissive or apathetic. This time, she looked like she was considering his words carefully. Then, in a voice that was somewhere between a bitter rasp and an angry growl, she uttered a single word: "Starscream." Then she carefully pushed herself up into a seated position with her good arm, being mindful of the IVs that were still in her. "Stupid, stupid…" She sounded like she was about to say something else, but instead she trailed off and looked sharply at Dr. Brackett, as if remembering she wasn't alone in the room.

"Irina, if you know something about the jet, it would help a great deal." That was all he said on the subject as he checked over her cast, her IVs, and her monitors. Everything looked good. "You're coming along quite nicely. In a few more days, we're gonna take the cast off, check your arm over, and put a new one on. You'll be getting a physical therapist soon, too. Do you need anything, want anything?"

"Um, no not really." Irina closed her mouth. The words came out in a rush. Her eyes darted around the room, almost nervously. She looked at the doctor briefly, then at the door, then looked around the room again.

The movement didn't miss Brackett. He chuckled a little. "Bet you want to get out of this room, and bed for a while huh?" He looked her over. "I think we can arrange a trip out, but we'll need to do something about the IV in your leg, though. Otherwise, it won't work. I'll be back with a nurse to take care of that, for you."

"Um yeah, that would be nice," Irina murmured, sounding distracted. "But uh… I don't wanna go outside. Could I just… walk around in the building or something?" She didn't tell the doctor this, but in truth she just wanted a chance to look out one of the windows, if she could. Something was going on out there. And if it meant what she thought it did… they were all going to be in even bigger trouble, soon.

"Well I wasn't about to let you skip around in the parking lot," he chuckled. "I'll be back in a minute with that nurse." He patted her shoulder and went out of the room. As promised, he came back with a nurse who removed the IV in her leg, and the morphine line. She replaced the IV with the nutrient solution back in her arm, and then brought a wheel chair near the bed.

The nurse assisted Irina into the wheelchair, and the teenager sat back into it. Then, as she was wheeled out of the room, Irina looked around in every direction, trying to take everything in. And every chance she got, she looked out one of the windows. But she didn't see much of anything. She figured she probably shouldn't have expected to see much anyway, not from here. This place wasn't where all the action was, after all. This was simply where the result of the action came.

Meanwhile, someone walked through the front entrance of Rampart hospital, walking with her back straight and head held high. She had long black hair, brown eyes, and fair features. She wore a simple outfit, consisting of a pair of jeans, a tank-top and a light jacket. She definitely wasn't a hippy, but she obviously wasn't there on formal business, either. Nor did she appear injured.

A couple of people asked her if she needed any help. Without speaking, she simply shook her head. She then proceeded to move about, never getting in anyone's way, but she simply seemed to look around wherever she was able to. She didn't seem to be looking for anyone specific, she just seemed to be observing everything.

Then, after a few moments, she suddenly spotted something that caused her to freeze in her tracks. She saw Irina, sitting in a wheelchair, looking out one of the windows on the far side of the building. The woman backed away, intent on preventing herself from being spotted by Irina. She did peer at the teenager for a moment longer though, to try and determine just why the girl was in the hospital. It seemed there was a cast on her arm… perhaps that was the only thing wrong with her.

Then, unwilling to risk being seen by the girl, the woman turned on her heel and headed back toward the front of the hospital.

That was where she saw a blond-haired nurse standing behind the front desk, apparently tending to some paperwork. The dark-haired woman frowned for a moment, hesitating. She felt like she shouldn't risk hanging around here. But still… she just had to know for certain, to make sure there was no mistake.

The woman quietly approached the front desk, and cleared her throat. She glanced briefly at the nurse's name tag as she glanced up; it said "Dixie McCall." The dark-haired woman then chose to ask her question. "Excuse me, but… do you have an Irina Johns here, at this place?"

Dixie looked up from her work, trying not to yawn. She'd been at the hospital far longer than her original shift had intended, but she couldn't leave just yet. She gave a tired smile to the young girl in front of her and hoped that she was a friend or relative; Irina really did need more visitors than nurses, doctors, and tired firemen. "Yes, are you a friend of hers?"

The dark-haired woman appeared thoughtful, then she frowned. "Sorry, can't answer that. I was just wondering." She then slowly began to back off, as if getting ready to leave. "But… thanks."

Dixie stood quickly, coming around the desk. "Hold on, don't you want to know more about why she's here, or her condition? It would help her alot if you visited her."

"Uh… I saw her on the other side of the building. She looks okay to me." The dark-haired girl turned away, moving toward the door. "Sorry, I gotta go."

"Wait, hold on." Dixie forgot about her tiredness and moved forward quickly. "Why don't you go talk to her?"

"No." Without looking at the nurse, the black-haired woman kept her gaze straight ahead, continuing to move toward the door.

"Why not? She needs a friend, and you may be the one to help her. She needs help, more help than anyone here can give her, you can help her, please." Dixie wasn't used to begging, but she did this time. She had this feeling that if Irina didn't break through the depression gripping her, she would be lost forever.

The woman stopped, hesitating for a moment. She did not look back, but she had definitely stopped walking. Then she moved forward quickly, placing her hand on the door to open it, then stopped. Sucking in a deep breath, she slowly turned to look back at the nurse, a conflicted expression displaying on her features. "It's for her own good that I'm leaving, you know," she said slowly. She turned back to face the door, but did not open it. "She's… safer if she stays away from us. That's what we decided."

Something fell into place in Dixie's mind. When Irina had talked before about people forcing her away...suddenly, anger flared and she grabbed the girl by the shoulder and forced her to face the nurse. She kept her hand there while she spoke with angry force. "Well you forgot to tell her that, didn't you? That girl is thinking that you and whoever else made her go away because of some fault in her, something she did or didn't do! She won't eat, she hardly sleeps without sedation, and she spends so much time in herself, in her head, that I'm afraid she won't come back out someday! Maybe you forced her away to keep her safe. Maybe you did it because you didn't want her around; I hope that's not the case. But I do know that if you cared about her in any way at all, if she ever really was a friend of yours, you would go and explain to her what you just told me!" Her mouth opened and closed again, as if she was going to say something more, but instead she closed it, dropped her hand, and spun away.

The girl stared after Dixie, eyes widening. Was it really true? Was Irina really feeling that bad off, because of what she and the others did? She thought that they had explained it to Irina well enough. They had… hadn't they? So why would she have any reason to feel lost? Why should she refuse to take care of herself? Surely being around others of her own species was better for Irina anyway. Wasn't it?

Despite the fact that she knew she had other things she needed to do, the girl found herself following Dixie as she moved back toward the desk. "She… she's really that upset?" the girl asked, almost timidly, her eyes growing wider by the second. "She won't eat or anything?"

"I had to put in a second IV to give her what her body needs so she wouldn't die from malnutrition, because she won't eat. She's loosing weight, some muscle mass, and her body is eating itself, despite all that we've done." Normally Dixie wouldn't be so blunt, but this time she didn't pull any punches. This girl needed to understand the full consequences of what her actions and words had done. "When her arm is healed, she's still going to have to stay in the hospital. We can't release her in this condition." Her eyes narrowed. "It was a battle just to get her to agree to come to the hospital, to get treated."

The black-haired girl flinched as if she'd been slapped across the face. Her eyes were as wide as saucers and her fingers of both her hands intertwined in front of her. She simply stared at Dixie, then her eyes darted around the hospital, then focused on Dixie again. Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times, but no words came out. The girl now appeared to be rooted to the spot where she stood, unmoving.

Dixie didn't really have much more to say to her. It was now her decision on what she was going to do, leave or see Irina. She kept her gaze unwavering. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw two paramedics come in with a patient. "Excuse me, I've got to get back to work. If you want to visit her, then ask the nurse at the desk over there for her room number." Her tone was still a little cold and hard, but Dixie didn't let it up. She'd feel guilty later, she was sure, but at the moment, she'd just let it happen.

The dark-haired girl stared after the nurse as she went to tend to her duties. Finally she forced herself to stop looking at her. Taking a deep breath, she went to the nurse that Dixie had indicated, asking for Irina's room number. Once she got it she thanked the nurse and headed off down the hall.

Meanwhile, Irina had returned to her room. She hadn't seen anything or heard anything new about the jet, so she'd finally decided to just go back to bed, so to speak. Now she lay there, once again alone and staring up at the ceiling.

When the door to her room opened, she did not even notice at first. She heard a soft throat-clearing noise, but she still did not look up. Then she heard what sounded like an impatient tap of a foot, and a very familiar voice said, "Damnit Irina, we leave you alone for a couple weeks and you let yourself go. What would Optimus say? Or Ratchet?" A sly grin touched the corners of her lips. "Or Amberclaw."

Irina sat up so fast and so straight that she nearly ripped out one of her IVs, and her arm protested in the movement. "Hey! Easy!" the other girl said, closing the door and moving toward the bed, placing her hands on Irina's shoulders. "You're gonna hurt yourself doing that."

The expression on Irina's face was a mixture of emotion. It looked like she was feeling anger, perhaps even rage. She also looked like she was fighting back tears, and it looked as if she was trying to decide whether she wanted to hug the other girl, or try and strangle her with her one, good hand.

"Melissa," Irina said slowly, in a low voice, "why did… why did…" She trailed off, shaking her head. "You guys KNEW that I didn't have anyone else. Then you sent me away."

"Irina," Melissa said, sinking down onto the bed beside her and then holding her good hand, giving it a squeeze. She looked directly into Irina's eyes. "Don't you see? We thought that you'd be better off with your own species. And we thought that if we left Earth, then the Decepticons wouldn't come here." She sighed, looking downward. "Apparently we were wrong about that."

Now everything that Irina had been keeping penned up erupted from her. "You thought you were keeping me SAFE?" She yanked her hand out of Melissa's grasp and pointed at her broken arm. "Who do you think caused THIS? Those stupid Decepticons! Actually, one of the Predacons did it! I was barely able to get away!" Her nostrils flared, and her eyes pierced into Melissa with fury. "You were the only people I had, and you helped me get over losing my family. Then you turn me away, just so I'll be safe, and then thanks to you, those Predacons hurt me anyway!" Tears flowed down Irina's face, and she turned her head away angrily.

Melissa closed her eyes. Then she stood and paced the room for a moment. She was sorry that Irina felt this way, and she was sorry that she had been hurt-emotionally and physically. But at the same time, Melissa felt angry. Irina simply HAD to understand where she and the others were coming from, too. And why they did what they did.

"Irina," Melissa said, taking on an edge in her tone. She faced the other girl again. "You listen to me, now. I'm sorry that we hurt you. But we turned you away because we CARED, we didn't do it out of spite. Can't you understand that?"

"You guys were the only family I had, after you took me in."

"Irina, we love you, we still do. We just did what we thought was best for you. We weren't trying to push you away, and we weren't trying to… betray you. But there is also something else you have to remember."

Melissa paused, glancing at the door to make absolutely certain no one was coming. Then she transformed, causing every inch of her human appearance to vanish, to be replaced with a purely metallic appearance, and glowing blue eyes. "Look at me," she stated, her voice now sounding considerably more mechanical, "I'm not even human. I'm not really part of your world. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life, being around… things like me?"

"Friends are friends," Irina snapped. "I've lost my human family, and then my new family turned me away. I don't really see a difference." She looked as though she were about to fold her arms, but then thought better of it, remembering that she had one broken arm.

Melissa let out a robotic sigh. It sounded like a hiss from her air vents-which was all it was. However, it was definitely a human gesture. She then slowly sank down onto the bed beside Irina again, maintaining her robotic mode. "I guess we really blew it," she finally said. She reached out and took Irina's hand, wrapping her silvery, metal fingers around it very carefully. "First we thought it was best to turn you away, for your own good. Then we tried leaving your planet, for your own good. But you got hurt in more ways than one, and now your planet is being hurt, because of us."

Melissa gave the girl's hand a very gentle squeeze. "I came back to Earth, alone, by Optimus's order. He wanted me to make sure you were alright, and to make sure the Decepticons weren't here. The only reason I even came to the hospital was to investigate the causalities, and I have been monitoring the news about the destructions that the Decepticons have been causing over the past few hours."

"It's Starscream, isn't it?" Irina asked.

The robotic girl nodded. "Yes. Among others."

Suddenly, Melissa released Irina's hand and straightened up. "Someone's coming!" She then dove onto the floor, beside Irina's bed, to give herself a better chance to transform back into her human appearance without anyone seeing it.

The nurse who had switched out Irina's IV lines earlier walked in with a smile. She had a stethoscope around her neck and a BP cuff in her hand. She stepped up and pulled a pen out of her front shirt pocket.

"Hello, Irina, how are you feeling? Not tired or anything from earlier? I'm just going to take your vitals here now and check your IV." She put words into action and lifted Irina's wrist in her hand, taking her pulse. She made a note in her chart and then wrapped the BP cuff around her arm, putting the stethoscope against her chest, also taking her respiration count. She made another note on the chart. Then she checked the IV lines.

She frowned a little. "Rates are a little up, and what happened to your IVs? You've got a little blood in your ports. Are you feeling okay? Are you in pain?" The nurse straightened the sheets and fluffed pillows.

At that, Melissa stood up on the other side of the bed, now fully human again in appearance. "Sorry, I guess I startled her a little when I came in," she murmured. Irina looked at her, saying nothing.

The nurse looked startled at the woman in the room. "I'm sorry, and you are?"

Melissa flashed a smile. "Sorry, I guess I startled you now, too." She inclined her head toward Irina. "I'm a friend of Irina. I just dropped something so I was picking it up over there." Melissa reached into her pocket and withdrew what looked like a pocket watch, then put it back in her pocket.

The girl moved around to the other side of Irina's bed, to stand beside the nurse. "I think that Irina here would like something to eat now." Melissa looked directly into Irina's eyes, wearing a firm expression. "Wouldn't you?"

Irina scowled. "You think you can just come in here and tell me to eat?"

Melissa sighed. She should have realized she wouldn't be let off the hook that easily. "What if maybe… I eat dinner with you, right here?" she asked. "If that's okay with the nurse, I mean." She looked at the nurse indicatively.

The nurse looked between the two of them, some surprise on her face. That gave way to pleasure and she smiled again. "I...think that can be arranged. I'll speak with Dr. Early about it, to make sure, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind. Is there something particular either of you would like?" She made it sound casual.

Melissa looked at Irina again, folding her arms across her chest. "Come on now, what do you want?" she asked, sounding both persuasive and firm at the same time. "I'll have whatever you're having."

Irina's scowl deepened. She glared at Melissa, then at the nurse, then back at Melissa again. "I don't care," she finally said. "I'll eat… whatever. Just so long as you stay here."

Melissa gave a nod, then smiled at the nurse. "Guess it's up to you and this doctor you mentioned, then."

The smile grew bigger. "Alright, we'll see what we can do." With one last look at Irina and her friend, the nurse hurried out of the room. About ten minutes later, she came back with two covered trays and an elderly looking man.

"Here we are," the nurse said, "soup, crackers, and some water." She pulled the covers off the trays to reveal the meals and set to work on placing them in front of the girls.

"Hello again, Irina. I'm glad you're feeling well enough to eat." It wasn't an accusation in any form, but more like a statement. "Who's your friend?" He looked at Melissa with a kind smile.

A conversation between Irina and Melissa had been cut off when the two others entered the room. Irina had expressed more of her feelings, and how abandoned and lost she had felt, while they were waiting for their food, allowing her to get a lot of her pent-up feelings out. Melissa had simply listened with quiet understanding, even hugging the other girl once or twice. Now though, they both were silent, and Irina seemed to be focusing more on her food than anything else. She was actually eating now.

Melissa cleared her throat, not touching her food yet. "I'm Melissa," she said simply, to the gray-haired man. "Who are you?"

"Dr. Joe Early. I'm Irina's primary doctor. It's a pleasure to meet you." He turned to Irina. "I wanted to let you know, that we've scheduled the cast removal for two days from now, and you'll meet your physical therapist tomorrow."

Irina didn't look up from her tray. "Yeah, whatever," she muttered in acknowledgement, and proceeded to stuff her face with the crackers and some of the soup. She looked like someone who was re-discovering just how good food tasted, especially when you hadn't eaten for a while.

Melissa nodded a little, turning over her spoon in her fingers but still not touching her food. "Irina," she said softly, leaning forward a little, "I need to…" She trailed off, glancing briefly at the nurse and Dr. Early. Then she looked at Irina again. "I need go make a quick… phone call. Then I'll be back."

Irina stopped eating, glancing up at her. "You said you wouldn't leave."

"I'm not leaving, I just need to go call… someone," she said, trying to add emphasis to the word "someone". In truth, she needed to call the Autobots and the other Maximals on her special communicator, outside, where no one could see. They needed to be told about the Decepticons being on Earth, and about Irina too. But she couldn't do that here, in this room, where someone might see. She just hoped Irina would take the hint, and not do anything stupid while she was gone.

"I… I don't want you to go," Irina stammered, scowling again.

Dr. Early looked back and forth between the two of them. "Why don't you go ahead and finish eating, Irina, then let Melissa make her call? I promise if she tries to leave without telling you, I'll have security bring her back." It wasn't exactly a joke. He was happy Irina was eating again, and didn't want anything to mess that up, hence the suggestion that Melissa stay until she was finished. He also didn't want Irina to go back to her silent, not-eating depression.

Melissa sighed. This probably meant that they weren't going to let her go outside. It also meant that they would probably expect her to use one of the hospital phones. Well, either she could slip into one of the bathrooms for a moment to use her communicator, or she could… pretend to use one of the phones. She would just have to come up with something to SAY, something that would get the message across to the Autobots and Maximals, but something that wouldn't sound odd to a passerby.

"I'll be right back, I promise," Melissa said, giving Irina's good hand a gentle squeeze. Then she handed her tray to the nurse and quickly slipped out of the room, heading toward the front desk where the phones were.

As soon as she approached the front desk, she saw Dixie there again. Oh, wonderful. The nurse was probably still ticked off at her, too. Still, Melissa figured she might as well get this over with. She slowly approached the front desk and cleared her throat.

Dixie glanced up and saw the girl from earlier. She straightened up and braced her forearms against the desk. She was still a little mad but not as mad as before. More like irritated. Then she thought about it, and realized that she must have gone to see Irina. It made some of the irritation melt away. "Yes, can I help you?"

Melissa studied the woman before her for a moment. In truth, Melissa herself had strength and agility that was far superior than that of the average human, and if Melissa had really wanted to, or chosen to, she could have broken this nurse in two with little effort. So… why was it that she felt a bit… intimidated by this Dixie McCall?

"I need to use the phone," Melissa said simply. "Can I?" She then glanced around briefly, wondering if there were security guards keeping an eye on her. Again, the average human was no match for her. But, she had been ordered not to make a scene. So she had to act like a normal, average human herself.

Dixie blinked a little. "Yes you can. There's a more private phone you can use, if you want." She stood and came around the desk and waited to see if Melissa followed her.

"Oh yes, that would be good," Melissa nodded, moving to follow.

She lead her to a section of the waiting room set aside for families to use, and with a smile and nod left her to the phone call. The area was secluded enough that you could only hear the conversation if you were right behind the person, but you could be seen by anyone in the room. The nurse sitting nearby at the desk looked up, smiled quickly and then went back to her papers.

Melissa cleared her throat, picked up the phone receiver, and pretended to dial a number. Then she put the receiver near her mouth and ear, just as she'd seen humans do. Then she put her index finger into her ear, as if she was trying to get some wax out of it. But instead she was actually activating her private communicator.

"Optimus?" she spoke softly, hoping he would be the one to answer her general "hail" on her frequency. She also hoped that it would be strong enough to reach him, and that it wouldn't be picked up on by any human radios. "It's Melissa. Please come in."

However, it was not the Autobot leader's voice that responded, but that of the Autobot second-in-command; the tactician, Prowl. "Melissa, I am reading you." Not exactly her first choice, but he would do.

"Okay listen carefully," Melissa said as quietly as she could. She also faced the wall, to make sure no one could read her lips. "I'm at Rampart Hospital in Los Angeles. Irina is here, and she was harmed by a predator that conned her. Get what I'm saying?" Come on, Prowl, she thought, pick it up. Conned by a predator, Predacon, get it?

There was a moment of silence. "Predacons," Prowl finally replied. "Do you have anything else to report?"

"We were also deceived by cons," Melissa continued, glancing around briefly to make sure no one was paying attention to her. Still, hopefully this code would work, if someone was listening. "The deceivers are still among us here, and they've caused hell in the cities. You need to tell the boss. You all need to come BACK."

"Understood. Now get out of the hospital, right now. That's an order."

"WHAT!" Melissa exclaimed, more loudly than she'd intended. "I can't leave!" Then, realizing how loud her outburst had been, she glanced around, wondering if she'd just drawn attention to herself.

The nurse at the desk looked up at her outburst but then went back to what she was doing. She was used to conversations that went like that so she didn't pay any attention, and no one else was focused on the teen girl on the phone; they all had their own problems to worry about.

Melissa turned her attention back to the phone-or rather, her communicator. "Look, Prowl," she murmured, "I can't go. Irina's in bad shape, because she feels like we turned her away and abandoned her when she needed us the most. We were cruel to her, Prowl, I see it now. After she lost everything she ever had in that fire, including her parents, we took her in for a while, then turned her away. Now she's at the hospital with a broken arm, and she hasn't eaten anything since she got here. Right now, she's eating for the first time in possibly days. And only because I'm here. And I promised her I'd be back."

She fell silent. She could almost hear the cold processor of the logical-minded tactician clicking as he considered the options. She also had to assume that Optimus was apparently unavailable at the moment, since the second-in-command had responded to her call.

Finally, Prowl responded. "I am sorry, Melissa, but since there is no one else on Earth at this time, we are going to need your help. You must leave the hospital and attempt to pinpoint the locations of the Decepticons and Predacons, so that we will know where they are as soon as we get back to Earth. There are more lives at stake than just Irina's, Melissa."

"But it's our fault that she got hurt and stopped taking care of herself!" Melissa protested. Wasn't there some way she could get through to that cold, unfeeling Autobot? Of course she knew that he did have feelings, but at times they didn't show all that much.

"Melissa, I care for Irina as well. But this is also important. She will simply have to understand."

"Fine, whatever." Melissa sighed, slamming the receiver down, and killing her commlink by sticking her finger into her ear again. Well, whether she liked it or not, she had her orders. And she was "on call" for duty, after all… much like the policemen and firemen of Earth. Surely they couldn't hang around with a friend if they really had to do something important… could they? Somehow, that thought didn't comfort her much.

Still, she had also been ordered not to make a scene. So perhaps if someone did try to stop her on the way out, she would have to stay anyway. Smiling slightly at the thought, she moved away from the phone and headed toward the door, and well… she would just let whatever was going to happen happen.

"Excuse me, young lady," a security officer said with a smile. "You're Melissa?"

Melissa couldn't help but smile in return. It was an expression of relief, in a way, even though she wanted to kick herself at the same time. She was, after all, being prevented from carrying out her duties, and from following orders. "Yes," she said with an honest nod. "I am."
Suddenly the guard looked sheepish. "I'm sorry, but you can't leave just yet. If you wouldn't mind coming with me?"

Melissa hesitated for a moment. In a way, she was disobeying orders… but then she reminded herself that she was still obeying orders at the same time. Optimus himself had ordered her not to make a scene, correct? So she couldn't reveal that she was an alien. That meant she could not attack the guard. Which then meant that she had to go with him. "Okay," she said with a nod. "Lead on."

Relieved, he lead her back to Irina's room and waited until she opened the door and went inside to leave. Inside, Early was still with Irina. He looked up, smiled, told Irina that he had to go see some other patients, but he'd be back tomorrow with her therapist. He left.

Melissa sat down on the bed beside Irina, taking her stray of food from the nurse. It seemed that Irina had finished her dinner, at least. She was still sipping a glass of water, though. Melissa nodded in approval, then stuffed a spoonful of soup into her own mouth. "Not bad," she murmured.

Irina looked at the nurse. "Can she stay here tonight?" she asked.

Melissa turned her face away from both of them in order to hide her grimace. As if she wouldn't be in enough trouble already, when the Autobots arrived on Earth. Still, she supposed that she couldn't really blame Irina. Not after everything she'd been through.

The nurse thought about it seriously, then shook her head. "I'm sorry, not tonight. Maybe another time, dear." She continued to clear away Irina's tray. "I'll be back later, to check on you and take away the tray."

Melissa nodded, and the nurse left. She then leaned toward Irina. "I'll stay as long as possible," she promised. "Then I need to do something for the Autobots. I need to find the Decepticons for them." She then reached into her pocket and pulled out the item that looked like a pocket watch. "You know what this is," she said indicatively, and pushed it into Irina's good hand. "It looks like a watch, but it's actually a commlink, only to be used in the case of an emergency. But I have it set to my frequency, so… just so long as you only use it when there's no one in the room, you can call me anytime during the night. Okay?"

Irina's face lit up a bit, and she nodded. "Thanks," she said. "But I wanna talk to the others too. I…" Her voice seemed to catch in her throat for a moment, then she managed to get out, "I want to talk to Amberclaw, too."

Melissa smiled and patted her on the leg. "I'm sure I can patch you through," she vowed.

Chapter 4

Melissa watched Irina as she lay there on the bed, finally sleeping. The sick girl actually looked fairly peaceful all things considered, although it would no doubt take a while for her to recover, both physically and emotionally. She held Irina's hand gently, and Irina's fingers were tightly wrapped around her own, even though the sick girl was sound asleep. Melissa was almost afraid to leave now, although she knew that she would have to eventually.

As she sat there on the edge of the bed, Melissa shuffled her feet uncomfortably, taking care not to bump or rattle the tray or dishes she had set down on the floor. She'd finished eating a few minutes ago and was now focused on her own thoughts.

Frankly, Prowl's current mental condition worried her almost as much as Irina's. Part of Melissa felt bad now for cutting the tactician off so abruptly, especially since he was her superior. But in truth, she was getting pretty sick of him in some ways.

She did not know the whole story, because it had happened before she and the other Maximals had even been built or activated. But apparently Prowl had once been bonded to a spark-mate he loved dearly. Then the Decepticons captured his mate and tortured her for days trying to get information out of her. Prowl had apparently felt every bit of her pain, since their sparks were bonded. And he'd felt her slowly die. And several rescue attempts of her and a few other prisoners had failed.

When Prowl's spark-mate went permanently offline, Prowl almost went offline as well. As everyone knew, when one bot in a bonded pair died, the other usually went into depression and followed their partner into death, because a bond was basically… well, to borrow a human term, like "linking souls". So if you lost your spark-mate, it was like part of you died too.

Somehow though, Prowl managed to survive. But he changed. He had spent a long time in the recovery room, where Ratchet and a couple of other Autobot medics watched over him closely. After a time, it seemed that his fury at the Decepticons was what finally made him recover the loss just enough to be able to resume his duties. But he wasn't the same anymore.

No one could exactly call Prowl depressed anymore. But it was like… he'd grown a lot colder. He still cared in his own way, but it was like he cared more about fighting and stopping the Decepticons than life itself anymore. But… wasn't it the Autobot (and Maximal) way to care about life above all else?

Of course, the other Autobots had suffered a great deal as well, thanks to the war that's been going on for eons. But Prowl seemed to be one of the worst off, all because he'd lost his mate and survived the loss only by sheer determination to stop the Decepticons. In some ways, this caused Melissa to worry a little. She and her fellow Maximals had only been online for a few decades now, and they had just barely been put into action after a thorough training period. But what if, years from now, she and some of the others ended up scarred like Prowl, or possibly worse?

Melissa glanced at Irina thoughtfully again. This situation had already left its mark on the robotic girl.

Melissa then shook her head slightly, thinking about what a dandy situation this was. Decepticons were attacking Earth. Irina had been on a path of self-destruction thanks to them and thanks to the Autobots and Maximals themselves. And on top of that, Melissa had to assume that something might be going on out there in space, since Prowl had answered her call instead of Optimus. And of course, Prowl's mental condition concerned her a lot.

"Fine mess we've gotten ourselves into," she muttered to herself, in a barely audible whisper. Anyway she figured that she would probably be able to slip out soon. Irina was sleeping soundly, and since the nurse had made it clear that Melissa couldn't spend the night, they would probably nicely kick Melissa out soon enough. That would give her a chance to try and pinpoint the Decepticons and Predacons.

And maybe… she should try and contact Prowl again once she was outside.

Soon enough, the same nurse came into the room. She picked up the tray and dishes, and then quietly informed Melissa that visiting hours were over. Melissa smiled a little and nodded, then she very carefully removed her hand from Irina's hand. Then she picked up the "pocket watch" from the side of the bed and placed it into the now empty hand. Irina's hand instinctively tightened around it.

Melissa smiled at the nurse again. "Just a little… gift," she murmured. Then she walked by the nurse and headed out of the room.

The robotic girl then passed by several people in the hallway as she headed toward the door. Once she was near the front desk, she found herself pausing and glancing around in spite of herself. Dixie McCall was not at the front desk, although it looked like a dark-skinned man with glasses was standing there, apparently answering someone on a communication machine of some sort. It sounded like he was talking to medics at a scene where someone was injured.

Melissa turned and headed out the front door. This time no one stopped her. Once she was safely outside she glanced in both directions, then moved out into the parking lot. No one seemed to be paying her any attention.

It was getting dark now. The sun had set and the sky was clouding up. Apparently this was going to be a moonless, starless night. That suited her fine though, because then it was less likely that anyone would notice her.

Once she was out of the parking lot, she glanced both ways, then broke into a run along the side of the road. Then, keeping her sensors and eyes open for anything the slightest bit suspicious, she stuck her finger into her ear again in an attempt to contact Prowl.

"You there?" she asked. Since she was basically a robot, she had the ability to run and speak at the same time without getting breathless.

It was a moment before the reply came. "Yes, Melissa, I am here."

"Prowl," Melissa acknowledged. "I am starting my search for leads on the Decepticons right now. I was delayed at the hospital. And…" She hesitated. "I wanted to… apologize for cutting you off before."

There was a pause. "Melissa, I understand that you were… are… very close to Irina. And I understand that you are concerned about her."

In spite of herself, something snapped in Melissa at hearing those words. "Oh you do, do you?" she demanded, keeping up her pace but becoming momentarily distracted. "From what I've heard, you haven't really cared about anyone or anything except killing Decepticons ever since you lost your spark-mate."

She stopped running then, and clamped her mouth shut. She now wondered if she had crossed some sort of line. She had… hadn't she? This was a subject that no one brought up with Prowl, except for the Autobots-specifically, those closest to him. And Prowl didn't even let anyone get too close these days. Besides, she and the other Maximals were like children in the eyes of most of the Autobots, especially the ones who were over a million years old. After all, she and the others had only been online for a few decades, and had just barely finished their training.

So what right did she have to bring up this painful subject with Prowl?

Her lips pressed into a thin line. She decided, right there and then, that she had every right to bring it up. Just because she was a whole lot younger than any of the Autobots, it didn't mean she knew nothing. And she knew enough to understand when someone was being cold and unfeeling. Perhaps even a bit selfish.

Finally, Prowl replied. "I do not want to kill all of the Decepticons. I simply want to stop them from harming anyone else. I don't want to see Earth suffer the same fate that Cybertron suffered." There was a brief pause. "That Fairlight suffered." That last sentence held some pain, along with some emptiness in the tone.

Melissa blinked. That was the first time she'd ever heard him say the name of his deceased bond-mate. "Yeah well…" she found herself saying slowly, "that doesn't mean we can just abandon our friends either, does it? I mean, it is important to pinpoint the locations of the Decepticons and Predacons, to find out where their base of operations is. But does that mean sacrificing even ONE life is okay?" Then she played a card that she never thought she would have the guts to play. "What would Fairlight think?"

A stony silence followed. Melissa then noticed that a few passersby were glancing in her direction as she passed. She then realized that she was being a bit conspicuous. No one but her could hear Prowl's voice, but anyone walking by could hear her talking. She then decided to break into a run again, trying to keep up a moderate pace.

"I do not wish to discuss her," came Prowl's reply after a few moments. "Let us focus on the present." There was another short pause. "I have sent a team of Maximals on ahead, and they should arrive near your location within the next couple of days."

"You're sending a team ahead?" Melissa asked, instantly growing suspicious. Just what was going on out there, in her absence? She found herself glancing toward the sky, even though the gesture was completely useless. Even if the sky hadn't been cloudy, the Autobot ships were too far away to possibly be seen by the naked eye at this point. "Prowl, what the hell is going on up there? And where is Optimus? I thought all of you were coming back, ASAP."

"I see you are adapting well to human speech," Prowl commented. Was it just her, or was there just the slightest trace of amusement in his tone? If it had been there though, it was gone when he spoke again. "After we sent you back to Earth to make certain the Decepticons had not landed, we began doing some routine scouting out here in space. We wanted to make sure that none of the Decepticons were following us, and we needed to determine whether or not we had a clear route back to Cybertron."

"Wait a minute," Melissa interrupted. "You mean that if things were okay down here, we were just gonna go back to Cybertron?" She asked in disbelief. "But there's nothing there anymore! The whole planet is ravaged and the place is dead."

"We were planning to salvage what we could, and possibly set up a colony on another world," Prowl replied, unperturbed. Then he continued what he had been saying before. "As we were scanning the route, we found an asteroid field that had the potential of possessing resources we might find useful, so we stopped to investigate. However, it turned out that the Decepticons had found it first. They ambushed us, which took us completely by surprise." The Autobot's voice had now taken on an angry edge.

"So what's happening up there right now?" Melissa demanded. She was still running, but she was no longer paying attention to anything around her. "Where's Optimus?"

"Optimus was critically damaged during the initial attack," Prowl replied grimly. "As it stands now, the situation is calm. The Decepticons have apparently taken what they wanted from the asteroid field and retreated. But we have sustained numerous casualties and we must repair the ships in our fleet before we can return to Earth."

Melissa stopped running now. She grimaced, squeezing her eyes shut and pressing her hand against her forehead. "That's so terrible," she murmured. "Tell me… is Optimus going to be okay? And um… no one died, did they?"

"Optimus Prime's condition is, as of yet, uncertain," Prowl replied. There was a pause. "Ratchet has not recharged for days. He has been drinking high-grade energon just to stay on his feet, and has been very busy tending to the wounded, including Optimus."

"But everyone is alive, right?" Melissa persisted. Part of her wished that she'd never left the fleet. But of course, someone had to come back to Earth and check things out, and she knew that it was a very good thing she had.

"Jazz is dead."

It took several seconds for that sentence to even register in Melissa's processor. It took her a moment to realize that she had stopped running and that she was staring straight ahead.

Suddenly, it just seemed like there was nothing to say. And she didn't want to hear any more about the subject, at least for the moment. She just wanted to focus on the task at hand. "When will the Maximals get here?" she asked in a very quiet voice. She pressed her lips together into a thin line.

"Approximately one day, twelve hours," Prowl replied, his voice sounding automatic and dull now. "Assuming that they do not run into complications," he added.

"Understood." Melissa disliked the tremor in her voice. "I'll get back to what I'm doing then, and… I'll contact you again if I find anything. Over and out."

Once she killed the link, she allowed herself a moment to allow the tears to run freely down her cheeks and a gut-wrenching sob to escape her mouth. That was one problem with being partially human. Even though she had superior strength, and she could change out of the human mode anytime… well, while she was in human-form, she had everything that a normal human had. Including tear ducts, which could be triggered by her emotions. As she was experiencing now.

"C'mon, get a GRIP on yourself," she mumbled to herself through gritted teeth. But she couldn't help it. She wasn't used to all this. She wasn't used to hearing about friends dying, or having friends getting seriously hurt and depressed either. She knew how to fight, and she felt she could handle herself if she needed to, but… now she was starting to realize why the Autobots sometimes referred to the Maximals as "children". They had plenty of practice and training within the safe confines of training bases. But that did not give them emotional preparation or endurance; some things about war, and even protecting others, were still very new to Melissa.

And she knew that it would be new to her fellow Maximals, too. Would they all be able to handle it?

"We'll have to," she muttered to herself. "We've just got to!"

Then the sobs overtook her. She knew that she wouldn't be able to make it any further unless she took a moment to contain herself. She ducked into a nearby alley and plopped herself down behind a dumpster, then let herself go. She knew that if she transformed into her robot mode, she would be able to stop crying and possibly get a better grip on her emotions, without all these… physical hindrances that humans experienced. But she couldn't afford to do that. She couldn't risk anyone seeing her.

And so she simply let herself go, crying and even wailing every so often, until the tears finally subsided.

And that was when she began to realize something else. Her face was red and raw, her vision blurry, and her nose was plugged. The initial ache in her chest had subsided a bit, thanks to the release of emotion through crying so hard. But… was this anything like what Irina had felt? Melissa had never lost anyone before, at least not anyone she knew well. And she had only lost one person. She still had others she could count on… once they arrived. But if this was how it felt to lose one person, what must it be like to lose everything?

"Oh Irina… I'm so sorry for what happened…" Fresh tears were beginning to leak out of the corners of her eyes again, but she fought them back. No. She couldn't start that again. She swiped at them impatiently with her sleeve. "I had no idea."

A sudden wail of a siren startled her, and brought her mind back to the present. A police car rushed past, lights flashing brightly.

Melissa stood up shakily, wiping at her face again. She had a hunch that if she wanted to find the Decepticons… she should follow that car.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Meanwhile, there was a lot of action going on at the Los Angeles Air Force Base. In fact, that was putting it mildly.

"Runamuck, Runabout what is you ETA?" snarled Starscream as he flew overhead the military base waiting for the right moment to attack. The infernal humans would never detect him with their primitive technology. "RUNABOUT, RUNAMUCK WHAT IS TAKING YOU SO FRAGGIN LONG TO ANSWER?"

"We're nearly there mighty Starscream," came a slight bored voice of Runamuck and a snicker from his brother.

"Quit stalling and get there already, I want this base destroyed now." Starscream snapped back, cutting the link as he continued to fly over the base. Was it really that hard to get good help these days.

Down below, it seemed that several humans had noticed the jet that was flying over the base. Since there had been reports of an unidentified jet flying around and wrecking havoc at random locations, it was decided that they should try and make radio contact.

"This is the Los Angeles Air Base to unidentified jet," spoke the voice of a human through the radio. "This is restricted air space. State your identity."

"Insects, have no idea that they are going to meet there early death," sneered Starscream, spotting the two brothers just driving up to the front gates of the base. With that the fighter jet swooped down and launched several missiles at two different buildings, pulling skywards as the buildings exploded below him.

As soon as the buildings exploded the brothers at the gates roared their engines and drove straight through the chain gate, and changed into their robot modes. "Get ready for us."

Right before the humans' eyes, the convertible and the pickup truck that had been spotted at numerous other sites had just changed into large, towering robots. Then, any shock that the men felt at the strange, other-worldly sight they'd just witnessed vanished as an alarm went off. Men sprang into action, taking their positions.

Several men rushed toward the two robots, armed with standard issue rifles and ready for anything… or so they hoped. It was very obvious they were under attack, and so they weren't going to take any chances.

Runamuck laughed as the humans tried shooting at him and his brother, bringing his foot up and nearly stomping on them, though they all scattered before he could kill any of them. Runabout was already chasing after a few other humans, while nearby another building hanger exploded as Starscream rained down more missiles.

Inside the base someone was calling one of the air bases to the north for backup, or at least attempting to. A transmission had begun. On the ground, several pilots were hurrying toward the fighter jets that were on the ground, getting ready to board them and lift off into the air. A few others went to man some of the artillery defense units that were standing by.

Starscream, picking up the attempted transmissions calls let out an EMP burst, rendering any calls out of the base useless. "Pathetic insects," he said transforming midair and watching the havoc going on down below him. The humans were attempting to shot at the two Decepticons on the ground, while others were scrambling about towards any working available aircraft. Transforming once again he took off towards the aircraft field launching several missiles, delighting in the explosion of six fighter jets and a bunch of humans who failed to get out of the way in time.

Just then, several police cars showed up on the scene, their lights flashing and their sirens blaring loudly. Several police officers scrambled out of their cars. They were armed with weapons just as the military personnel of the air base were. They could see the robots, and they could see the havoc that was being wrought on the base. They moved into position and opened fire. Several of the military men moved into position and opened fire as well, hoping to find a weak point in the large robots' armor, somehow.

Runabout noticing the police cruiser turned from where he was dangling a human, dropping him and heading over towards the flashing cars, not even feeling the gun shots that were being directed at him. "Pathetic humans, you think you can hurt us with those tiny weapons of yours," he laughed hand reaching out for the closest car and crushing it within his grip.

One of the police officers, a man in his mid-twenties, watched the scene with horror. Then, growling, he decided that he truly wanted to do something. Ignoring shouts from the police captain, he grabbed a large metal bar from one of the police cars and ran straight at one of the robots with it. Maybe if he could find a weak spot to get the bar's edge into and pry… maybe he could do some damage, somehow.

Runabout looked down at the sound of metal bouncing off his armor, dropping the now useless car. "Ah so you want to play do you?" he smirked reaching down and attempting to catch the human. "Come on I won't hurt you... much!" laughing as the human dodged his hand again and again.

While the large robot was somewhat distracted, one of the military men chose that moment to take aim. They redirected one of the anti-artillery units toward the large robot at its back, shouted a warning, and fired. They hoped that a more powerful weapon might be able to take out the robots that were on the ground.

Runamuck felt a sharp pinch at his side, dropping the damaged tank that he held in his hands and turning to look at the damaged area. Although it was a small wound, it stung none the less from whatever shot him. He turned and looked around for which ever human hit him, ready to give some kind of payback for it.

Realizing that apparently the powerful anti-artillery guns had left a mark-even if it wasn't much-the men were nonetheless encouraged. The captain of the base barked an order, and one of the other units was directed toward the robots. All of the other units, though, continued to try and target the odd "jet" thing that was still intent on wrecking havoc.

Starscream in the meantime continued his attack on the other military jets and planes, hitting one fuel jet, causing an even bigger explosion that set fire to ten other aircraft on the ground. The few that did manage to survive would not obviously be a threat since it seemed like all the humans scattered away from them when they realized it would be pointless to try and get in them when none would be functional. Turning away from that he looked towards the other two noticing that Runamuck was getting shot at by stationary guns on the ground and he seemed to be getting angrier and angrier.

The men kept firing, hoping to break through whatever these metallic giants were armored with and take them down. Some of the men were even continuing to fire at them with their rifles, even though they had little more effect on them than pea-shooters.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Meanwhile Melissa managed to arrive at the scene. She had "borrowed" a blue convertible that someone had parked next to a curb by hot-wiring it, and she had followed the police car she'd seen from the alley on it. When she arrived at the scene-what appeared to be an important base of some sort-she could only stare at the sight before her in horror.

She quickly ditched the car, leaping out of it and broke into a run. She wasn't sure what she could do, if anything… there were three of them, and they were so much bigger than her, as were all Decepticons. She was only the size of a human. She was stronger than humans, but she couldn't go up against them… could she?

"Prowl, Prowl," she muttered into her commlink. "Decepticons are attacking an air base!"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Prowl perked up from his seat at his desk at the incoming call from Melissa. "What is your location?" he hailed over the call as he exited his office.

"Still in the same general area," Melissa's voice answered over the communication link. "I left the hospital and I went a few miles in a car. I'm now at what appears to be an air base in Los Angeles, California." She then shrieked, as if she saw something that either terrified her or made her angry. Possibly both. "I know you said that help won't get here for a day and a half, but… is there ANYTHING that we can do? People are dying down here, Prowl!"

"Try and get as many of the humans out of there as possible. There is no way they would survive if they stayed there, get them out of there as soon as possible Melissa and I'll send down a team to Earth to help control the situation." Prowl said as he began calling a few Autobots who weren't in the repair bay or on light duty.

0o0o0o0o0o0

"Yeah right, by the time they get here, it'll be too late!" Melissa protested. She was glad that Prowl was going to send more help, but since he'd already told her that it would take the first team a day and a half to get there… well, what good would that do? "I've got to STOP them somehow, Prowl!"

Before the Autobot second-in-command could answer, Melissa switched off her commlink and broke into a run. Then, as she moved, she transformed into her robotic form. She now looked nothing like a human, and she knew that the Decepticons would most likely pick up on that fact.

She rushed straight toward Roundabout, who was the closest to her. Then she yelled out-not in English, but in the Cybertronian language, "GET OUT OF HERE YOU FRAGGERS! I've got TWENTY Autobots on my way, just behind me, and they'll be here any minute!" Hey, sometimes lying worked. Or bluffing, as humans called it in Poker.

Runabout turned at the sound of the native Cybertronian language and looked down to see a human size robot, his head tilting to the side. "Who are you puny insect?'

Melissa raised her head in a haughty fashion. "Insect? Can an insect do THIS?" She leaped forward and clung onto his leg, digging her strong, metallic fingers underneath a piece of his armor and pulling. The sound of groaning and bending metal could be heard.

"WHAT THE FRAG? GET OFF ME," he yelled out attracting the attention of the other two Decepticons. He continued to shout, shaking his leg to try and dislodge the weird creature.

Melissa snarled, then proceeded to climb up his leg, somehow managing to hold on despite his attempts to shake her off. She moved with the agility of a spider, gripping the crevices in his armor as she made her way toward his midsection. Then, wrapping her legs around his thigh to brace herself, she jabbed her fingers into his midsection, attempting to claw her way through the armor. She wanted to try and get to something vital, if she could.

"GET OFF ME YOU LITTLE GLITCH," Runabout continued to yell as Starscream landed next to him and moved in for a closer look at what was causing the Decepticon so much hassle.

Melissa stopped what she was doing when she noticed the other Decepticon standing near her. Then, maintaining her grip on her current target, she sneered at Starscream. "What are you looking at, you ugly piece of slag?" she taunted. "You look like you belong on the scrap pile!"

Starscream reached out and plucked the metal creature from Runabout's leg, holding the thing between his fingers as it squirmed to try and get away. "What are you?" he asked the thing.

"I'M YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE." She then bit down onto his finger with her metallic teeth… hard.

"WHY YOU FRAGGING GLITCH," Starscream called out pulling his hand away and trying to shake the thing off. Irritated when it would work, he brought up his other and grasped hold of it so that it couldn't do anymore damage to any of them. "What's your purpose here glitch?

She scowled up at him. She was now being restrained in his hands so that she couldn't move, but she could still hiss and growl. She did both, then snipped, "I'm here to stop you, glitch-brain. And I've got twenty Autobots coming here! They'll be here any minute!" She bared her metallic teeth, which flashed in what little light there was. "You'd better RUN before they take you apart and leave you on the nearest scrap heap!"

Starscream looked skywards, processing what the obvious little Autobot was saying. "If that is true then we have done our duty. Runabout, Runamuck let's go. This little glitch will be our way to the Autobot's."

Then, ignoring the little creature's protests and attempts to escape, Starscream transformed into his jet mode and trapped her inside his cockpit. Then, as Runabout and Runamuck transformed and prepared to follow, Starscream took off into the sky.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Prowl finished calling up several of the Autobots who were able to be spared for a mission to Earth. He put Chromia in charge of the mission, and ordered her to take her team straight to Earth, following the same course as the Maximal team that had been sent out.

Once that was done, the tactician returned to his office and sat down behind his desk. He still had some work to catch up on, and yet… something made him push it aside, at least for the moment.

He knew that it had indeed been a mistake for the Autobots to leave Earth. No doubt the Decepticons would have found it on their own eventually, even if the Autobots hadn't inadvertently led them there. But now they were under attack, and they were helpless. What happened on Cybertron had already begun on Earth… except there was still time to stop it.

Melissa's words suddenly ran through his head. He thought of Irina, trying to imagine was she was going through. He also tried to envision what would happen if Earth suffered the same fate as Cybertron. Ravaged by war, stripped of its resources, its people almost extinct…

"Irina," he murmured out loud. He hadn't really thought about her much when Melissa first reported her condition to him.

Had the war taken its toll on him so much that he was more focused on going after Decepticons than anything else? Had Fairlight's death affected him so deeply that he only knew what loss felt like, instead of caring for life and trying to protect it? Had he… forgotten what it was like to truly serve life and protect it, as an Autobot should?

He still cared about and looked after his fellow Autobots, as well as the Maximals. But somehow… the new crisis on Earth had begun to reawaken something he hadn't felt for a long time. Something that he hadn't felt since their home world, Cybertron, had been destroyed and they'd been forced to flee it.

…Something that he hadn't felt since the Allspark had been lost, sent to drift aimlessly in space to keep it out of Decepticon hands, shortly after the Maximals were first given sparks and brought online.

He felt hope. There was another planet out there that was hurting because of the Decepticons, but this time he could help stop it. He could save those lives, and then maybe… there would be more to life than simply surviving and fighting Decepticons. If Irina herself was any indication, the human race was worth saving. Just like any sentient life-form would be.

Suddenly, the face of Fairlight flashed through his processor, vividly. He had not forgotten what her beautiful features had looked like. And somehow… somehow right now-perhaps from the Well of All Sparks, she was smiling at him. Then, just as abruptly, the image vanished.

Somehow… that was all Prowl needed to see. He knew what he needed to do now.

Prowl rose sharply from his desk. He put a finger to the side of his helmet, activating his commlink. "Chromia," he said as he walked swiftly out the door, "hold on. I am going to Earth as well, and I will be leading the mission."

When Chromia responded, he could hear the surprise in her voice. "But sir, aren't you needed here? Optimus is-"

"I am confident Ratchet will do everything possible for Optimus," Prowl replied as he headed down the corridor, toward the nearest lift. "Until then… well," he paused, running a list of names through his processor. "I will leave Elita 1 in charge," he finally decided. She was one of the senior officers, and she would be able to keep things together until Optimus Prime was up and about again.

"Understood… I'll meet you in the hanger, then," Chromia acknowledged.

Chapter 5

Starscream, being the fastest with his jet mode, arrived at the temporary Decepticon base. It was located in an area on the very edge of the state, and underground. They were basically using the basement of an old abandoned factory, located in an area of the state that was pretty much devoid of humans.

Once inside, he transformed from his jet mode back into his robotic mode, instantly freeing the small, metallic creature from the confinement of his cockpit, but quickly grasping her within his servos. Then he looked down at her, taking note of her.

"You are a Maximal, aren't you?" he sneered, grinning down at her as she began to squirm in his grasp. During the flight, his processor had had time to analyze the situation, as well as what he knew about the younger faction-or rather, offshoot-of the Autobots. The Maximals were similar to the Decepticons' own Predacons, having the ability to scan the DNA of nearby organics and take on an organic mode instead of a vehicle mode. But this was the first time he'd seen a Maximal up close.

The little creature did not respond. She simply snarled, trying to free herself from his grip. But since he was bigger and stronger than her, her struggles were in vain.

"I already know you are one, little glitch," Starscream smirked. "You can't hide it from me."

"MY NAME IS MELISSA YOU FRAGGER," the smaller creature yelled. Her voice was full of anger and indignation, but there was definitely fear in it as well.

Right at that moment, Runamuck and Runabout arrived. The tires of their vehicle modes screeched against the ground as they moved into the temporary base and pulled to a halt.

"I don't really care what your name is," Starscream smirked. "But by the time I'm finished with you, you'll wish you had never come online!"

With that he turned and stalked down a long tunnel, turning into a room that had a containment field within it. It had been designed and set up for storing energon, but it would do for this purpose as well. He threw the Pretender/Maximal down into the center of the box and activated the force fields.

Melissa was now trapped within the confines of five force-field walls. Four surrounding her from each side, and one above her. And there was a very solid floor beneath her.

Even though she did her best not to show it… she was very afraid. She had no idea what they were going to do to her. Everything she'd learned about what happened to the Autobots who'd been captured during the war came back to her, flowing through her processor from her lessons back in her training days.

She shuddered. She had learned back in school that there were some things that were worse than death. Especially when it came to Decepticons.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Chromia glanced up when she heard the sound of footsteps approaching. She was standing just outside the hanger bay. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were already inside, presumably making sure the shuttle was ready to depart. Part of her hoped that they weren't causing any trouble in there, although her processor quickly dismissed it. Even they understood the seriousness of this mission. They wouldn't pull one any of their shenanigans under these circumstances…

Would they?

She shoved the thought aside as Prowl approached. She blinked slightly at the sight of him. He somehow seemed… different. As if there was a light in his optical sensors that hadn't been there before. She cocked her head to one side, studying his features intently. She was unsure why he decided to lead the mission to Earth so suddenly, but this wasn't the time to question it, either. They had their duty to attend to.

"The twins are prepping the shuttle, so after I say goodbye to Ironhide, we can go," Chromia informed the tactician. She had a feeling that, especially under these circumstances, it was going to be a while before she saw her mate again. Part of her wished that he could come with her, but they needed some able-bodied Autobots to stay with the fleet, in case the Decepticons returned.

"After you say goodbye to Ironhide? I wasn't aware Ironhide was going anywhere?" asked Prowl head tilting the side in confusion.

Chromia stared at him for a moment. "Of course he's not going anywhere," she said, placing her servos on her hips. "Unless he is and you didn't tell me." Her lip components moved into a slight frown as her processor considered his words.

"No, his assignment is to stay here and help protect the fleet. Now what were you implying earlier?" he asked again.

Now the femme blinked. "Excuse me," she said, "but I was assigned to lead this team to Earth, and then I find out you're leading it. So shouldn't we be leaving?"

Prowl was even more confused by what she had said, looking down at the list of personal going on the mission on the data pad he held. "I was not aware you were assigned this mission, since I was the one who organized it. Your name does not appear on this list and so there for you must stay here and help protect the fleet."

Chromia's mouth fell open. Oh, NOW it made sense. She had just been kicked off the outgoing team since Prowl had taken her place as the leader. This realization caused her to growl quietly in anger. "I'm going too!" she snipped, folding her arms across her chassis. "I came down here with Sunny and Sides, I helped load up the shuttle, and now as soon as I say goodbye to Ironhide, I am coming with you." The scowl on her features deepened. "I could also say that YOU should stay here and protect the fleet. You're the second-in-command, after all."

Prowl looked slightly taken aback, having never actually had the femme snap at him before. Actually, the only one she ever really snapped at was Ironhide, but never at anyone else, especially another officer. "Then as Second in Command I am ordering you not to go on this mission. While I appreciate you help, I already have my team assembled and I think you will be of greater assistance here Chromia."

She growled softly at the order. Then she decided to try being a little more persuasive, and less firm. Her tone lost some of its edge when she spoke again. "But… you could surely use a fourth bot on your party. Things sound like they're going to be rough on Earth."

"A few of the Maximals have already been sent ahead, and with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe coming along as well, we will take care of what the Decepticons give us. Thank you for your volunteer, but it will not be needed here." he said and headed into the shuttle, taking the argument to an end.

Chromia stared at him as he left her in the hallway. She kept her optics glued onto his back until the door slid shut, blocking her view.

A hiss escaped her vents as she stalked off down the hallway, heading somewhere very specific. Moments ago, she had fully intended to go there anyway, but she had planned to say goodbye. In this case though, she was going to blow off steam.

She entered the room where her mate's current work station was. He looked a bit tired, although everyone was tired. Due to all the causalities, many of the bots were performing double shifts. "Ironhide," she growled as she came closer to him, "I got kicked off the team! Prowl decided he's going to lead the team instead, and then I find out I'm supposed to stay here." She folded her arms, scowling.

Ironhide stared at the angry femme who was glaring down at him. "M' sorry Chromia, but what'd you want me ta do?" he asked, which obviously had been the wrong answer, cause she started yelling at him.

"THAT GLITCHHEAD PUT ME IN CHARGE OF THE TEAM," she bellowed so loudly that several other bots stopped what they were doing and turned to stare. "THEN HE GOES AND TAKES CHARGE OF IT HIMSELF. AND ONLY THEN DOES HE TELL ME THAT HE'S KICKING ME OFF THE TEAM. I WANTED TO GO TO EARTH, I CAN DO MORE THERE THAN I CAN HERE, SLAGGIT!" She slammed her clenched servo down onto the console Ironhide was working at for emphasis. "That fragger!" she then snipped, sounding a bit calmer, but not much.

Ironhide jumped backwards to avoid getting hit by his mate, also knowing better that it was best not to stop a femme in the middle of her yelling. Once he realized though that she was attempting to clam herself down, did he slide his arm around her waist and pull her towards him. "It's alright Mia," he said, using his nickname for her. "Yes, ya would've been a great help down there, but I like it better that ya up here with me."

Chromia glared at him, yet something in her optics was starting to soften. "I just really wanted to… help," she told him. "I was trapped in one of the rooms when the Decepticons attacked this ship, because the door got stuck and the emergency override wouldn't work. By the time I freed myself, the damage had already been done and the Decepticons were gone. I just want to go somewhere where I can actually do something useful." She spoke that last sentence with her dental plating gritted.

"I know love, but being able to defend this fleet will be helpful to us, since Sunny and Sides are going to earth. Besides you get to boss us all around since you are also an officer and Elita's Second in Command," Ironhide grinned.

In spite of herself, Chromia actually smiled a little. "Well," she muttered, "I guess that isn't so bad." She leaned in and nuzzled against Ironhide's neck. "I'm just so tired of those 'cons," she murmured thoughtfully. "I'd like to kick some of their afts and sometimes… I feel like I'd love to rip some of them into scrap metal."

Ironhide laughed. "Only you love can rip some kind of damage to them if I let you go ahead and do so. Next time we have a battle take your anger out on them."

Her optics lit up. "Oh trust me, I will," she said in a soft, yet deadly, tone.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Irina stared at the pocket watch in her right hand. She clenched and unclenched her fingers around it a few times, then glanced at the door to make sure no one was coming. She then flicked her wrist in order to pop the watch open, revealing what appeared to be a normal watch face inside, complete with numbers and moving hands. However, she knew that once it was opened, she could speak into it and attempt to speak to Melissa.

"Melissa," she muttered into the watch, "come on its Irina… you said I could talk to you anytime so long as no one was around. Why won't you answer me? I want to talk to you. I want to see you again. When will you be back?"

There was only silence, along with some static. "Why aren't you answering me?" she growled into the device. Again, there was only a soft bit of static.

Was the device a dud? Had Melissa only been kidding her about staying in touch? Had all of this just been a cruel joke? Perhaps the Maximals simply wanted to taunt her further by having one of them visit her briefly, just to abandon her again. Maybe it was just stupid to have gotten her hopes up again at all.

Memories flashed through her mind. The terror she'd felt when her family home caught on fire, burning to the ground along with everything she'd ever owned… everything that was dear to her heart. And that included the most valuable thing of all; her family. She could still hear the echoes of their screams and cries as they literally burned alive, and Irina herself had fled the house out of terror. She had been the only one to escape.

Then being found by Melissa as she roamed the streets, her eyes stinging from a combination of tears and smoke. As soon as Melissa had learned that Irina had nowhere to go and that she had lost everything, she had taken Irina to the place where her friends were… and that was when Irina first met the Maximals.

They had taken her in, helped her stay fed and just looked after her. They even introduced her to the Autobots. They let her talk about her feelings, and even offered a shoulder her for her to cry on-and warm arms to hold her, as her family used to-whenever she needed it. She had poured out her heart and soul to them, at least to those who became her closest friends amongst these strange, alien visitors. She had been frightened of them at first, but she had been so desperate for someone to help her, to fill in the void in her soul and be there for her that she didn't care what they looked like or where they were from. They quickly became her new family.

Then came the day when they turned her away. They said that they had to leave Earth, because if they stayed, their presence might attract the Decepticons. She knew all about them, because her closest friends among the Maximals had told her. She even knew many of their names and the kinds of vehicle modes they liked.

She had begged them to stay, or to let her come with them if nothing else. They insisted that her being with them only put her in danger. So they turned her away, even though Melissa and Amberclaw gave her the most heartfelt goodbyes, and everyone had wished her well. Still, they might as well have killed her, right there and then. All they did was make her lose her second family, when she needed them most.

Then came the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak. They had left her for her own good, and for the good of the Earth. Or so they said. And yet she was hurt by one of their enemies, because they were already there. They had just been waiting for the Autobots and Maximals to leave. One of the Predacons-who had the form of a large spider-had attempted to capture her, or worse. Apparently they somehow knew she had been with the Autobots and Maximals. She'd managed to get away, but not before the large, terrifying creature had gotten a hold of her arm, snapping it so that the bone broke and a piece of the bone pierced through her flesh.

Once she managed to get away, and once the adrenaline had died down, her will to continue on began to fade away along with it. She had continued on down the streets, unsure of how long she'd been walking, until she finally collapsed on the ground in front of some house.

The next thing she knew after that, a woman was carefully helping her up and taking her into her house. And soon after that, the two men came who brought her to the hospital.

Ever since then, she'd simply wanted to be left alone, or to die. Until Melissa magically appeared through the doorway and seemed to come back into her life. That was when Irina had begun to dare to hope again.

But now… was all that hope in vain? After everything she'd been through, she wasn't fully ready to trust anyone again. If her family died in a hellish fire, who was to say that other people she tried to get close to wouldn't die, too? And other people could turn her away, why should she risk opening herself up just to be turned away again?

A cry of rage, closely followed by a howl of pain, escaped her lips. She then snapped the "pocket watch" shut and flung it across the room as hard as she could. It banged against the wall and clattered onto the floor, coming to a stop.

Irina then moved, no longer caring about anything at all. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, ignoring the IVs as they yanked and pulled in her arms due to her sudden movements.

The nurse walking by the room heard the noise and with a deep breath to prepare her for whatever she might find. She opened the door, looked in, a stern lecture on her tongue about disturbing others and the need to rest but they never made it past her lips. The young girl standing near her bed had blood running down her arm from where the IVs had moved. Quickly taking in the situation, the nurse rushed forward, gently but firmly made her sit and lay back on the bed, grabbed a piece of rubber band from nearby, and tied a tourniquet on her arm, a few inches above where the IVs were. That accomplished, she pulled on the wire nearby to alert for a doctor or nurse and put gauze over the girl's hand to try and stop the bleeding. Other than telling Irina to stay still and to move as little as possible, the nurse didn't say a word.

Irina stared up at the ceiling, her eyes wide though not really looking at anything. She panted softly. Her arm stung a little from where the IV needles had torn her a little, but that was nothing compared to what she felt inside right now. The physical pain was merely an annoyance; a small distraction.

Suddenly she growled, and sat up straight again. The agony and bitterness over being abandoned again were really taking their toll on her. "Let me out of here!" she shouted, attempting to stand again. She shoved at the bed with both arms. A pained yelp escaped her as she felt a piercing ache rip through her broken arm as it protested against the rough treatment.

Brackett and Dixie came in the room minutes after the nurse had called for them. Without preamble, they both went quickly to the bed. Brackett was asking the nurse what had happened and Dixie began talking to Irina.

Dixie put both hands on each side of Irina's face, forcing her to look at Dixie. She spoke quietly and urgently. "Irina, you have to be still now, you hear me? Don't thrash around, and don't move your arm. Lay back and be still."

While Dixie handled Irina, Brackett talked to the nurse, who was explaining what had happened.

"I don't know if she broke the catheter or not doctor, but I tied the tourniquet just in case. The bleeding is coming under control now, but she's still very agitated."

Irina looked at Dixie for a moment, then made another growling sound. She resisted the nurse's touch, refusing to let them keep her still or make her lie back down. "I want OUT of here!" the girl cried out, attempting to swing her legs over the side of the bed. "Just let me out."

"Irina," Dixie shouted, forcing her back down. "You may have broken the IV catheter, and it may be traveling to your heart or lungs right now! If you be still it will slow it down if the tourniquet didn't work. Now so help me young lady, you will be still or I will have restraints put on you!"

The girl's struggles ceased, and she locked her eyes onto Dixie's face for a second, then glanced down at herself. She then allowed herself to be gently laid back onto the bed again, and to her credit she did remain motionless. She didn't feel any better about the things on her mind, or her situation in general, but somehow… the very thought that something might be swimming around in her system, threatening her life at this very moment, made her pause.

She continued to be still, staring up at the ceiling, but she wondered why she was still. Was she actually afraid of death, even though mere moments ago she was ready to try and run out the door, possibly to do something mindless or drastic? If so, why? If there was truly nothing left to live for, why did she suddenly hesitate?

"I'm too scared to die," she actually muttered aloud, in realization. She didn't even notice she'd spoken the thought aloud until she heard the words echoing in her ears.

Brackett pounced on the chance to get some vitals once he sent the nurse to get the cath team and a portable x-ray into the room. He checked her heart and respiration and BP then probed gently along her arm, to see if maybe he could feel anything. He didn't, but that wasn't a reassuring thing. He frowned darkly and glanced up at Dixie. She was stroking Irina's hair from her forehead and gently rubbing her shoulder. They'd both heard her admission and chose not to comment on it for the time being. When the x-ray came in, and the cath team, they began to see if maybe the catheters had moved through her body. They didn't find anything, but they did discover that they had moved out of the vein, which wasn't much better. The team left and Brackett requested a cath lab to be on standby.

"Well you were lucky this time around," he told Irina, standing over her and folding his arms across his chest. "Fortunately, we can close up the vein and remove the caths without too much problem. The only thing to watch out for now is infection." He looked down for a moment, shuffled his feet in a non-nervous gesture, and looked back up at her. "You wanna tell me just what in the world you thought you were doing?! There's a reason why we have procedures for patients who want to get out of bed, a reason why you don't jerk an arm with an IV, much less two of them, and a reason why you're not to move a broken arm as much as possible!" If he ever had a teenage daughter, would scolding her feel something like this?

The girl looked at him for a few seconds before answering. "I guess I didn't really care," she finally mumbled, and turned her head away again. It seemed to be a frequent mannerism of hers that she did when she didn't really want to face something. As if she could simply dismiss people, and perhaps even the world around her, by simply turning her gaze away from it all. "I'll be still," she quickly added, a little more quietly. "I won't move around again."

The meaning of her motions didn't get past either the doctor or nurse. Brackett opened his mouth to say something more, but Dixie softly saying his first name cut him off. He looked at her, then at Irina, and back at Dix. He didn't say anything else but just walked out the door, and managed not to slam the door.

Dixie waited until the door was closed before she watched Irina again. She still had her head turned away. "Irina, I figured I would hold off on talking to you about this, but I think it's better to say it now." She waited a minute. "Irina, look at me."

For a moment there was no movement whatsoever, but the girl finally turned her head back to look at the nurse. Her face was completely blank once again. "What?" she muttered.

She smoothed the hair away from her forehead again. "You know now what it feels like when you realize that you may actually die. You know it, and you decided you didn't want it. You also decided you don't want to deal with it, or any of what's really bothering you. If you want to run away from it, you're going to find yourself in a lonely, dark place for the rest of your life and it will be all your own fault. But, if you want to try to face it head on, with the people around you who are willing and ready to help, I think you'll discover it's not so bad." She glanced over at the hand that had held the IV, and moved to put more gauze on the blood covered material. "They're going to come up to get you soon, so Dr. Brackett can fix up the vein."

Irina sucked in a breath. Her head moved a little on the bed so that she was no longer looking at Dixie, but she wasn't quite looking away either. "I don't want to face anything anymore," she spoke in a barely audible whisper. "Why bother? I might just lose everything again if I dare to hope." She turned her head away now, releasing her breath in a long, wistful sigh. "Melissa's not coming back." Her tone, which had been resigned, sounded more pained and bitter when she said those four words.

The nurse paused, then turned to Irina again. She was silent for a moment, thinking, then nodded once to herself. "When I was your age, and younger even, I was an Army brat. My father moved around so much it made me dizzy sometimes." Dixie moved around to sit on the bedside with Irina's cast and she drew random little patterns on the plaster with her fingertip as she stared unseeingly at the wall. "As if that wasn't bad enough, he left for overseas trips quite a bit, and my mother and I couldn't go with him."

Shaking herself, Dixie continued. "Anyway, I was always waiting, left behind. Always looking for the soldiers to come up those steps to our house to tell us that I was being left behind permanently. One day, they did. The really incredible thing? My father had been killed by a drunk driver off base in the States."

Irina moved her head toward Dixie again, although her eyes weren't really looking at anything. "At least you still had people. You don't even know what happened to me. I lost my entire family in a fire. It was a really bad one, and I lost everything I ever had. Everything they ever gave me, every picture I ever had of them, and there was nothing left of the house either. All I had were the clothes I was wearing, and I managed to get away."

She paused for a quick breath, then continued her rant, looking straight at Dixie now. "Then a new family took me in. They were… well, um…" She frowned, suddenly feeling conflicted. She'd promised that she wouldn't tell anyone much about them. Despite everything that had happened, she still felt… oddly loyal to them. Perhaps because a deep part of her still loved them, despite what happened.

"They were kind of weird," she finally stated. Yeah, that was definitely one way to put it. "Almost like they were… from another planet." In spite of herself, she smirked at her own comment, but the expression quickly faded. "But they took me in, they helped me deal with everything, and they gave me a home, and they gave me a lot of love and attention. If it hadn't been for them I don't know what I would have done."

She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut as another wave of pain surged through her heart at the memories. "Then they turned me away and left… they went far away. So far away they could never come back. They said they were doing it for my own good, but all they did was leave me all alone again, with nothing." She sucked in a pained breath, and opened her eyes again to look at the nurse. "So you tell me why I should bother trying to get new friends… a new family. I'll just lose them again. They might either die, or leave me all alone again."

Dixie felt her heart swell with sympathy when she heard about Irina's biological family. She'd heard the teenager talk a little about how she was turned away. "Irina..." She thought hard about how she was going to say this. "You're contradicting yourself. You say you don't want to be alone, that you don't want to be left behind... but you're also causing that loneliness for yourself."

Irina scowled at her. "I don't want to take any more risks," she finally spat, though her tone was more defensive than anything else. "I've decided that if I stay alone, I won't be let down anymore. So…" She gritted her teeth, turning her head away again. "When both my arms heal… just let me go."

"Don't you realize that loving someone comes with risks? There are risks in life everyday. If you walk outside and into the street, you risk being hit by a car. If you jerk an IV in your arm, you run the risk of a catheter going to your heart. But just because those risks are there, does that mean you don't go outside anymore? Or lay like a log in the hospital bed? You're letting yourself down, Irina, by doing this to yourself, and if you keep doing it, you're going to fall hard and fast, and when you finally hit bottom, it'll be worse than anything you feel now."

Shaking her head dully, the girl simply asked, "What do you mean? What can possibly be worse than this?"

Dixie took a deep breath and let it out slowly. What she was about to say brought memories back to the surface of her mind and it hurt her even then to think about it. "When my father died, my mother broke down completely. She didn't talk, she didn't cook, eat, shower, or anything under her own power. At almost 15, I had to take care of myself and my mother. I guess that's what started my career as a nurse," she said with an attempt at humor that fell flat. "Eventually, she just got farther away. I could literally see it in her eyes how she let herself move away from me....then, she killed herself while I was in the next room." Dixie turned her head away and brushed quickly at her eyes before turning back to Irina. "That's what I'm talking about. My mother felt the loss of her husband so deeply, that she put distance between herself and everyone, even her daughter. And it killed her. I don't know personally how it feels, but I do know what it's like to see it. And I have seen it, in my personal life, when I was an Army nurse in Korea, and even here at Rampart."

For the first time, something akin to sympathy or compassion flickered in Irina's eyes, spreading momentarily across her features. "How…" Her voice caught in her throat, and she licked her lips then tried again. "How do you handle it, then? How do you… keep going?"

"People," she smiled softly. "I surround myself with people like Dr. Brackett, Dr. Early, Roy and Johnny. When I know that it's getting too hard to deal, too much to handle, I look for them and they make things a little better. Dr. Brackett just talks, and expects me to reply so I have to focus on that. Dr. Early, he tells jokes. Roy and Johnny, they are always up to something, usually Johnny hatching a scheme and Roy rolling his eyes. Then, when I get home to my apartment, I find Dr. Brackett waiting outside my door and we go in, have a drink, and I talk and he listens. Lets me cry all over him. Then Dr. Early will call to tell me about something a friend of his did, and Roy will call me from the station to tell me the outcome of Johnny's scheme and Johnny's in the background, saying incredible things. These people, my friends and family, help me. They make me stronger. If I let myself go like my mother, I wouldn't be here at Rampart or anywhere else, except wasting away in my apartment. You see, it's people that make all the difference, and while the risk is always there, the reward of their love makes it all worth it."

Irina was studying her closely, listening to every word she said. For once she actually seemed interested and attentive. Her expression looked thoughtful, even hopeful. The pain was still there in her eyes, but it was no longer merely blank, hopeless pain. There was definitely a small, growing light there now. "I guess I'll think about what you said," she finally murmured.

Just then the door opened, and Dr. Brackett re-entered the room.

Brackett looked between the nurse and patient and saw something that had changed, something that had passed between them. He wasn't sure what it was, exactly, but for some reason it made him feel a little better. With a smile at Irina, he teased, "Your room is ready."

Chapter 6

Melissa sat in the very center of the force field cage, in her human mode. Frankly, she was finding it a lot more comfortable at the moment for some reason. Though she wasn't sure why. Perhaps all of the time she'd spent stuck in her human mode while on Earth was causing her to be more human-like. In more ways than just her appearance.

She could see a pair of eyes staring at her from the shadows, and she knew it was one of the Predacons. There were multiple pairs of eyes, plus the occasional sound of shuffling feet-and there were plenty of feet. She finally deduced that it must have had… about eight legs? If that was the case, perhaps this Predacon had chosen an arachnid for its alternate mode.

"So," Melissa finally spoke up, resting her elbows casually on her knees as she her knees up against her chest, "you gonna keep staring at me like that, or are you actually going to say something?"

The multiple eyes blinked, then the figure moved a little closer to the cell. Sure enough, it was definitely a spider. It was black and gold in color, and quite sleek. In fact, it actually looked kind of pretty for a spider, if a bit creepy at the same time. Melissa found herself staring at the creature for a moment, taking in the slender form of the body, as well as the legs.

When the Predacon spoke, its voice revealed the hunch Melissa had as being fact; the Predacon was female, as its feminine voice made clear. "Personally, I'd rather be anyplace but here, Maximal. But I've been assigned to stand guard over you." Her tone made her displeasure over that fact quite clear.

"Then why not let me out?" Melissa purred, raising her eyebrows in an innocent, taunting manner. "Then you won't have to watch me."

Any retort from the spider femme was cut off by the sound of approaching footsteps. It seemed that Runamuck was approaching. "Ah there you are, little bug," he muttered as he looked down at the Predacon. He ignored Melissa entirely, at least for the moment.

The spider hissed. "The name is BlackArachnia!" she spat. "And what are you doing here anyway? You and that glitch-head brother of yours should be watching for the Autobots."

Runamuck grunted. "Starscream called Megatron a while ago. Reinforcements are coming and we're supposed to lay low until they arrive." He then turned toward the cell and grinned. "In the meantime, Starscream wants to see our little prisoner here."

"Fine by me," BlackArachnia muttered, already moving away on all eight of her long, skinny legs. "I'm sick of watching her anyway. I've got other things I could be doing."

"Just don't go outside," Runamuck muttered as he approached the force field cage. "Or if you do, stay out of sight," he added with a shrug. He really didn't care what the stupid she-spider did during her free time, just so long as it didn't cause him any trouble.

He then leaned over the cage and prepared to de-activate it. Meanwhile, inside the cage, Melissa purposely remained as still as possible, trying her best to look harmless, as if she weren't going to try anything.

Then, as soon as the force fields came down, she moved as fast as a blink of an eye. She bolted away from Runamuck, moving out of his grasp before his large servo could reach in and grab her.

Once she was several meters away she halted and transformed into her robotic form, sneering at him. "You should have only lowered one of the force field walls-the one closest to her!" Melissa couldn't resist taking a moment to gloat like that.

Runamuck roared and lunged toward her, and she was barely able to leap out of his reach. Suddenly she knew that taking the moment to gloat had been a very bad idea. He was much larger than her, and his ability to make larger strides and reach farther than she could gave him a definite advantage. But Melissa's size gave her the advantage of shorter, sudden bursts of speed in any direction, as well as increased agility.

However, while she was practically dancing around the floor, taunting the larger robot as she stayed out of his reach, she completely forgot about the Predacon-mostly because she thought that BlackArachnia had already left. But all of a sudden, the she-spider appeared out of nowhere, just behind Melissa, and lunged at the Maximal. Melissa did not even realize she was there until she felt a sharp piercing going into her back, causing her to scream in agony as sparks flew and the metal within her ripped and circuits sparked.

Reacting instinctively, she swung one of her arms around and connected it into BlackArachina's face. The spider yelped as the solid blow impacted with a light crunching sound.

Snarling partly out of anger and partly out of agony, Melissa attempted to make a run for it while the spider was distracted. Runamuck reached for her again, but she managed to avoid his attempted grab. She then dove for the nearest vent, wrenching the cover aside and moving into it, ignoring the way her circuits sparked and protested every move she made.

"GO AFTER HER YOU SLAGGER!" Runamuck bellowed at BlackArachnia.

Melissa heard his voice echoing throughout the vents as she hurried through it as quickly as she good. She had to get out of here. That was her top priority. She hurried through the vents, grateful that they were so narrow. It would probably give the other femme a bit of difficulty in following her, even though it was rather difficult for Melissa herself to go through it, thanks to her injuries.

Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, the vent actually lead her outside. She immediately punched the vent cover out of the way, then shoved herself out through it. She landed roughly on the ground, her damaged systems protesting heavily to the added abuse.

She then looked around, then decided to attempt transforming back into her human form. She needed to see if it could still be done despite the damage, plus if she appeared human she would have a better chance of blending in and escaping Decepticon notice. It took some effort and concentration-not to mention tuning out the pain and protesting of her metal and circuits-but she did manage to transform.

Then, walking very stiffly and with her back bent due to the damage-which was thankfully hidden underneath her human clothing now-she moved as quickly as she could away from the base.

"Prowl," she spoke into her personal communicator, as she walked quickly, "Prowl, do you read?" There was no response. "Prowl, anyone, do you read?" Only static. "Slag!" she snarled as she gave up on her commlink. Apparently when that stupid Predacon had bitten her, it had somehow messed up her commlink as well. Either that or there was some kind of interference.

Sucking in air through her vents, she considered her options. Well, she couldn't do anything about the Decepticons right now, especially since she was injured. And apparently they were going to lay low until reinforcements arrived anyway. So, hopefully the Maximals and Autobots would arrive before the Decepticon reinforcements did. And once they arrived, she could simply tell her fellow Maximals and the Autobots where the Decepticon base was.

Until then… well, perhaps she could go and check on Irina. She supposed that she could try her hand at a human custom called "hitch-hiking".

Once she got close enough to a road, it took several tries for her to get anyone to pay attention to her. Most of the cars simply drove on by, but eventually she was lucky enough to have a decent, gray-haired stranger stop and offer to give her a lift. Perhaps he had noticed that she was injured, because he actually offered to take her to Rampart hospital before she had a chance to ask. Deciding that things were working in her favor, she simply agreed.

It took a bit of time for them to get to the hospital, but once they arrived she thanked the man and got out of the car, insisting that she would be fine now, and that she didn't want him to bother coming in with her. After the man began to drive away, she turned and looked toward the front entrance of Rampart hospital.

"Okay…" she muttered to herself. "Just try to act natural." With that she straightened her shirt and tried to stand as straight as she could. Her back protested again, causing her to grunt and lean over again. Groaning, she placed a hand on her back, trying to support herself as she walked toward the doors, using her free hand to shove them open. Maybe she could simply find Irina's room again, without anyone noticing her.

The nurse at the front desk, Sharon, looked up. It was late at night, and fairly quiet, which was probably why her surprise was so great when she saw a teenage girl stumbling along, clutching at the wall for support. Her training and instincts kicked in and she rushed forward to help.

"Are you alright? Here, why don't you sit down," she asked as she moved closer and carefully took the girl's elbow.

Melissa flinched slightly at the nurse's touch. Normally the idea of sitting down wouldn't have sounded bad at all. But under the circumstances, she didn't want to risk anything. Humans-with the exception of Irina-weren't ready yet to see what she was like under the human disguise… were they? "Um, I don't have time to sit down," she muttered. "I'm here to see Irina Johns."

Sharon wasn't familiar with the name of the patient, but instead of saying that she tried to guide the girl to a nearby gurney. "Well, why don't you lay down here, and I'll find a doctor for you and he can answer any question you have." It was evasion in its poorest form, but it was all Sharon had at the moment.

Melissa blinked, then attempted to pull herself away from the nurse and out of her reach. "Really, I don't want to lie down," she stated firmly. She twisted her frame and hastily stepped backwards, attempting to move away from the nurse. As a result of her sudden, careless movements, there was a slight "crunch" sound in her back, which caused Melissa to gasp and cry out. Her legs weakened on her momentarily, causing her to fall a little, though she managed to catch herself with her hands and with one knee. "Oh… Primus," she swore.

There had been a few moments in her career where Sharon had to deal with a tough patient, and she knew that calling for foremen was the best thing to do, short of actually getting a doctor. So when the young woman pulled away, Sharon was ready to call for help to get her on a gurney and in a treatment room, but when she heard what sounded like a crunch in the girl's back, she thought the worst. In a moment, she was calling for a doctor and foreman, a backboard, c-collar, and other things. All the while, she put her hands on the teenagers shoulders and tried to get her to stay still, telling her it would be okay.

Brackett had just finished with Irina and was on his way out when the nurse started yelling for help. He sprinted down the hallway and reached the two, kneeling beside them.

"Young lady, can you tell me what exactly hurts," he asked, looking her over for an initial diagnostic.

Melissa gritted her teeth. While the nurse had been calling for various things that sounded like routine hospital things, the Maximal had been silently running an internal diagnostic on her systems. She couldn't fix herself, but the diagnostic could hopefully tell her roughly what was wrong, at least. The diagnostic was still going on when the black-haired man came and kneeled beside her.

"I don't hurt anywhere," she said to the man, then managed to push herself into a better sitting position. "I just lost my balance, that's all." Part of her internal processor took a moment to check the progress of the diagnostic; %85 done… good. Though she now knew that coming to the hospital in this state had been a VERY bad idea on her part.

Sharon looked at Dr. Brackett with a worried glance. "I heard a crunch, from her back, I think."

Brackett's eyes went wide. "A crunch?! From her back?!" A backboard and everything else the nurse requested appeared in that moment and Kel turned his attention to the teenager in front of him. "Here, lay down here," he instructed firmly.

"No!" Melissa half-shouted, attempting to resist. Due to the damage in her back she couldn't support herself very well, so she knew that human hands could probably force her to lay down if they tried. Nevertheless she couldn't let them look at her. She had no idea how they would react if they saw something they weren't ready for, something they weren't expecting.

Reacting on impulse, Melissa grabbed both of the black-haired man's wrists in her hands, squeezing with an almost superhuman strength. She did not put enough pressure on his wrists to cause harm, certainly not enough to break his bones. But it became very obvious she had greater strength than normal human teenagers had. "Leave me alone," she stated, keeping a grip on the doctor's wrists.

In his line of work, Kel was used to seeing people use an unusual amount of strength; chemicals released by the brain into the body had that kind of effect, even if your back was broken or your leg was hanging on by a thread of muscle. What surprised him about this girl, was how her grip was stronger than what he was used to. There was a slight throb where she was holding him, just enough to be uncomfortable, but not enough to really hurt. He looked at her, searched her face and eyes.

"Well," he said slowly, "will you let me take your vitals, at the very least? You won't have to use the backboard or a gurney...let me take your vitals and make sure your back isn't broken, okay?"

It really irked him to go against all his years of medical training and practice, but if he didn't say it, the girl could just leave and end up hurt worse than what she was. That concerned him more than the part that was irked.

She eased her grip on him a little, but did not let up completely. "There's nothing to check," she stated calmly, although her eyes held a fair amount of panic. Irina was still on her processor, but the thought of getting out of here without being discovered was starting to take more and more priority in her mind. "I'm fine."

Brackett snorted and shook his head, absently rubbing one wrist, then the other. "Oh, yeah, a crunch from the area of your spine is nothing to check, and of course everyone is fine even if they may be suffering from spinal damage and fell over from obvious pain in the middle of a hospital ER."

Ironically, right at that moment, the internal diagnostic finished. The results ran silently through her processor in a data stream, much like human thoughts flow through their brain. Apparently her armor plating in the region of the injury was bent and cracked, which no doubt meant that, under her shirt, a lot of wires and circuitry were exposed. Although that much she had already deduced anyway. As for the exact damage, apparently the jaws of the Predacon had managed to do damage on a small area of her metallic "backbone", not to mention it hindered a few of her mobile circuits and severed a few of her wires. She would be able to stay online until she got help from a proper, Autobot medic, but this was going to seriously hinder her ability to use her legs or her back in any way.

She dropped her hands at her sides, but was ready to use them again if anyone tried to touch her. "Really," she muttered, "it's nothing you should concern yourself with."

"Prove it to me," he challenged. "Stand up, bend forward, crouch, and twist with no problem. Hell, try to stand up with no problem!"

Melissa scowled. "Okay fine," she finally allowed. "I can't. But there's a reason why I can't let you look at me."

Sharon and the orderlies who'd come turned their heads back and forth between the two, like they were watching a tennis or ping pong match. They fiddled with the equipment in their hands, unsure of what to do with it.

Brackett frowned at a sudden thought. "Are you...are you under-going treatment for a medical problem with a doctor? Is that why you won't let me examine you?"

Melissa looked thoughtful. "Um, yeah I am," she finally nodded. It was worth a try at least, as a delay tactic if nothing else. "I'm under the care of… Dr. Ratchet." Well, that was true enough. Except that Autobot Ratchet wasn't even on Earth at the moment… or even human.

He narrowed his eyes and his eyebrows lowered. He respected that some patients weren't comfortable discussing their medical conditions with another doctor who wasn't their own, much less be examined. "Dr. Ratchet? I haven't heard of him," Brackett said, more to himself. To Melissa, he said, "Okay, how about this. How about you get in a wheel chair, give me Dr. Ratchet's number, and I'll call him. He can come here to see you, and if it takes him more than an hour, we can check you in and you'll stay the night. At the very least, promise me that you are in no immediate danger."

Uh oh. Melissa bit her lower lip in a very human fashion. "Um, you can't call him… he's not available right now. In fact uh… he's very far away, on a trip." Okay so perhaps that wasn't the best thing to say. But there was no phone number to give. Only a commlink frequency, and humans didn't use Cybertronian frequencies. At least, if they did happen to use those frequencies, they wouldn't use them to make calls into outer space.

Kel knew she was holding out on him, he just wasn't sure what it was yet. Maybe... "If you'd rather talk to him, as opposed to him talk to me about whatever condition you have, I can arrange that," he said, taking a stab in the dark. He added, "You'll still stay here, until he or someone he sends comes for you."

Melissa certainly wasn't stupid, so she began to analyze her situation. She could tell by this doctor's words and body language that he wasn't going to let her go easily, not until he was satisfied she would be taken care of, one way or another. "Look, if Ratchet could be contacted easily, I would just do it myself," she finally said.

She paused for a moment, trying to think of the best way to, well, explain the situation to him without saying too much. "Frankly, sir, the main reason I can't let you look at me is because…" She swallowed. "Let's just say my internal structure and build is very different from what you're used to seeing."

Brackett really didn't know what to say to that. He sat back on his heels and stared at her, wondering. There were precious few medical conditions that could explain her words, but he'd have to look those up. In the meantime, his concern was to get her in a room and her doctor contacted.

"Look, either you contact this Dr. Ratchet or someone in his office and they come for you, or you stay here and let me examine you."

Melissa gritted her teeth and growled softly, frustrated. The fact of the matter was, she could do neither. Ratchet was probably up to his optics taking care of other Autobots right now, wherever the Autobot fleet was. She assumed that one of the Maximals coming was probably a medic, but it would still be a while before she would see any of them. Probably sometime tomorrow, at the very earliest and only if they were ahead of schedule.

"Okay look, Doc," she said very slowly, "I want you to take a look at something. DON'T touch me anywhere else, but… just try to check my pulse and tell me what you feel." She slowly held out her right arm toward him.

He looked at her arm then gently took it in his hand, supporting her arm with the other. With two fingers, he placed them on the hollow of her wrist, waited a second, then shifted them. Her pulse started under his fingers and he frowned, shifting his fingers again, then back. What he felt wasn't what he was used to, what he was trained to focus on. It was fast, and felt more like a rushing than a pulsing. He removed his hand.

"May I," he asked as he let his hand hover near her neck. There was a bit of a difference between a pulse at the wrist and a pulse at the neck.

Melissa permitted his touch, then she asked quite simply, "Well, what do your fingers, and your medical knowledge, tell you?" She studied his face expectantly.

Brackett held his fingers to her neck a moment longer, then dropped his hand on a sigh. He waved the orderlies and nurse away, and shifted on his knees; the linoleum floor was pretty uncomfortable.

"Will you let me take you to a room?" He wasn't going to say anything else just yet, he wasn't ready.

Melissa narrowed her eyes. "Come on, just say it. What do you think, just by touching my neck and my wrist? What does your standard medical knowledge tell you?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Do you really want me to say what I'm thinking right now out loud in front of so many people?" To show his point, he swept his arm out in a gesture, indicating the people in the ER waiting room. Many were ignoring them, true enough, but more were either openly or subtly looking at them, listening.

"No," she said quickly, as if thinking about what he might possibly say out in the open. Then she sighed. "Fine, help me into one of your rooms… but DON'T touch my back or even look at it unless I give you permission, and don't let anyone else in the room. Is this acceptable?" She looked at him straight in the eyes, waiting for a response.

Kel studied her expression, her eyes. Finally, he nodded. " I'll help you up by the shoulders, you take the stretcher, and as far as not letting anyone else in the room, I can't guarantee anything for what may happen in the future. And just so you know, the stretcher isn't negotiable."

"Fine," Melissa said with a gesture of resignation. With that she permitted the doctor to assist her onto the stretcher. He lifted and supported her until she was laying down on it, on her side. She then put one arm behind her, almost protectively, in order to try and prevent her back from being touched or looked at. "Okay… let's go," she murmured.

The doctor tilted his head at the way she was laying. "If you want, I could put a blanket over you." He wasn't sure if she'd accept the offer or not, but it was worth a try. Besides, whatever she wanted to hide on her back would probably be seen as they traveled to the room he was putting her in; the orderlies would be curious, and he figured they wouldn't be able to resist the temptation of looking. Or a nurse traveling the hall or riding the elevator would glance over, and maybe see something. There were many scenarios, and he didn't want to loose any ground that he'd made with her.

She nodded, almost eagerly. "Yes, please." Part of her was a little worried about what he was going to say once they were in a private room, though. Apparently he respected the fact that she valued her privacy, so to speak. That was probably why he wouldn't say anything out in the open. But… was there some chance, even a slim one, that he was beginning to suspect she wasn't human? That prospect worried her in some ways. Although she was still trying to figure out what to do. She knew she might end up having to tell him… or show him. But she would stall for as long as possible.

Once she was covered with the blanket, Brackett grabbed two orderlies who weren't doing anything and got them to help him wheel her to the elevator. Once they were at the right floor, they wheeled the stretcher and girl to a vacant room. When he dismissed the orderlies, he raised the bed so she wouldn't lay flat, but she wasn't sitting bent at the waist either. It was more of a lounging position. That finished, he let her settle a bit and get comfortable, standing tall with his arms crossed over his chest.

"You asked me out there what my standard medical knowledge told me when I took your pulse. Well, it told me that your pulse was not a normal rate, and there are dozens upon dozens of medical reasons why that could be. Stress, pain, recent and strenuous work out, panic. Now let me tell you what that standard knowledge coupled with years of training, internship, practice, and skill tells me." His arm struck out and grabbed her arm, and using memory put his fingers against the pulse there. He nodded, almost to himself. "While there are many plausible medical reasons for a fast pulse rate, you should not still be experiencing such a thing. It's still at the same rate." Brackett applied slight pressure with his fingers to the site. "The feel of the pulse is wrong, too. When I press here like this, the pulse should just feel stronger. Instead, I feel rushing, like if I put my hand against a cloth with water rushing through it.

"Now, using the knowledge, skill, training, practice, and internship I have accumulated over the years, it is my professional medical opinion that you are either an extraordinarily un-human human, or you are just plain un-human."

He put her arm back on the bed and crossed his arms again. The ball, as the saying went, was in her court.

Melissa gazed at him for a moment, unmoving. Everything he just said ran through her processor, as she analyzed everything he'd just spoken to her. Well, apparently he had hit the nail on the head, more or less. And the simple fact that he could deduce so much simply from touching her wrist and neck gave her a start, but it also impressed her. Apparently this was a very insightful individual she was dealing with, and to his credit, he wasn't freaking out over it, nor was he demanding to look at her or calling anyone else into the room.

She was silent for several seconds. Then she did something that surprised even her. She burst out laughing. It was only a short laugh, one that lasted three seconds at most, but it was a definite guffaw.

Well, that was a bit unexpected. His arms moved from his chest to rest at his waist as his dark eyebrows lowered over his eyes and he frowned deeply.

"I don't find this situation funny at all, and I'm surprised that you do," he said sternly. For all his confidence and spouting of his skills, Brackett did have a moment of, 'Am I right? Did I misinterpret what I felt and saw?' He had that with nearly every patient he ever treated, but she wasn't a patient, and Brackett couldn't be sure that she WAS a she.

Melissa turned serious again, although there was still a glint in her eyes. "Okay, Doctor," she said slowly, watching him carefully, "if I let you look at my back… do you think you can handle seeing something very strange? That you won't be frightened, or think less of me?" She figured that this might be as good a time as any to see how another human might react to, well, seeing an alien robot in the flesh-or in the metal, or whatever. Still, Irina was okay with being around alien robots, so… maybe other humans would be, too.

The severity of the situation suddenly hit him like a lightning bolt. This girl...wasn't human. She was going to prove that fact to him, if he wanted to see it. He liked to think that he was an open-minded man (Dixie would probably say otherwise) and thought seriously about what was going on, making him silent for long minutes.

Finally, his hands lowered to his sides, but the frown was still there, only it was in consideration. "Since you're being open and honest, I will be too. I've seen many, many strange things in my years as a doctor, especially working in an emergency room. Although I get the feeling that this will be the strangest yet. I probably will be frightened, I won't be able to help that, really. As for thinking less of you..." he took a deep breath. "As for thinking less of you, I wouldn't be much of a doctor at all if this were to affect my opinion in such a way; that would mean I do that to all my patients and if that's the case then I should hand in my resignation."

With steely conviction, a feeling that this was the point of no return, and a cold stone of apprehension for the worst sitting in his gut, Brackett braced himself as well as he could and said, "Show me what you can."

Melissa pressed her lips into a thin line. "Okay… you're about to see an example of… what I look like under the surface skin and flesh, so to speak." With that she carefully rolled onto her side, so that her back was facing Dr. Brackett. Then she carefully moved the blanket down to about her waist and then, sucking in some air through her mouth, she squeezed her eyes shut and rolled up her shirt.

Her diagnostics had already given her a pretty good idea of what the doctor was seeing right now, even if she hadn't seen the damage with her own eyes. The injury was in the middle of her back, a few inches below her shoulder blades. She knew that the replicated human skin and flesh that coated her robotic components were torn away in that area, revealing a metallic spine, along with some broken and pulsing wires and cords, as well as a few broken or impaired circuits and gears. Plus there was probably a minor fluid leak back there, at least a good chance of it. Either the blackness of oil, or the soft blue color of processed energon-the Cybertronian equivalent of blood.

Since she could not see his face, she simply kept perfectly still and stared at the wall. "Well?" she said after a moment.

Kel's first reaction was pure shock. He'd had no idea that this could possibly be what she was hiding. Eventually, the shock was replaced by his medical mind's keen interest. He crouched down so he could see better, studying what he could see of the curve of the metallic spine, very similar to a human one. The wires and cords intrigued him as well, since they looked very much like a nerve and vein system in human. There was no guarantee that this was the case, however, since he could only see a little bit, but he was almost sure of what he was thinking. On it's own accord, his hand reached out to touch one of the cords but then at the last minute, just hovered, barely inches away. He made his hand move to a black line that ran from her wound down her back, much like blood would, touched it gently, then smelled it. Oil. His other fingers moved to touch the bluish line that was snaking down her back and shoulders, but he couldn't quite place the smell of it.

When Kel finished his general examination, he stood straight up and gently touched her shoulder with his clean hand. "Does the T-shirt bother it?"

She snorted. "Not really. Though you know, when I was first brought online, I wondered why I even had to wear clothes, because none of the others had to." She laughed a little in spite of herself. "Although they look… different than me. I'm the only one who looks human." She cocked her head a little. "By the way… I don't think we've introduced ourselves. I'm Melissa, also known as the Pretender Prototype. Or as a Maximal. Take your pick."

It was...hard to keep up with what she was saying. Brought online? Pretender Prototype? Maximal? Brackett shook his head and decided to deal with it properly later, when he had more sleep under his belt. He smiled a little at her. "Dr. Kel Brackett, nice to meet you." He put his hands in his coat pockets. "Um...should I call a mechanic for you?"

Now she growled softly and yanked her shirt back into place, then rolled onto her back. She then yanked the blanket over herself again, bringing it up to her chin. "No offense but I don't want just anyone poking and pawing at me, especially if they don't know what they're doing." She peered up at him, her brown eyes narrowing. "So… what exactly are you going to do?" she then asked. "Are you going to tell the whole world about me, or keep it hush-hush, or what?"

Brackett pulled a hand out of his pocket and held it out to her, palm up, a peaceful gesture. "I didn't mean to offend you, and I'm not making fun of you. I'm...not sure what I'm going to do." He ran his hand through his already messy hair. "I can't make a decision right now, I know that much. I'm way too tired. For now, I'll be quiet about this." The hand scrubbed over his face. "We'll talk more about it tomorrow, okay? Then we can plan on how to get you," he grimaced, "fixed up. Anything I can do in the meantime?"

"I don't want you to do anything, except keep quiet about all this," Melissa stated, calmly but firmly. Then after a moment's pause she quickly added, "Well there is one thing… I want to know how Irina is, and if I can see her." She winced slightly in spite of herself. Oh, it was just going to be great, Irina possibly seeing Melissa in THIS condition.

"Irina? You can't see her until tomorrow, I'm afraid. As for how she is...I think Nurse McCall should tell you that; she's a better judge than I am. Again, until tomorrow. Then we can work it out, alright?"

"Fine." Melissa gave a little nod, then gazed up at the ceiling, thoughtfully. "I think I'd rather not talk to that McCall nurse, though," she muttered.

Kel frowned again. "Why, if you don't mind my asking?"

Melissa looked at him. "Because she bites." The girl looked toward the ceiling again, releasing a sigh. "With her words."

For the first time in hours that night, Kel put his head back and laughed. "You were on the receiving end of a McCall lecture? I'm sorry, but it makes me feel better for some reason that even robots are intimidated by her." The laugh and smile died down. "The thing about Dix is that she only tells you things if you need to hear them, for your benefit or for the benefit of others. And the scary thing is she's usually right. But, she gets through to patients, helps them. And she doesn't always bite." He paused. "If you don't want to talk to her, okay, but she's spent the most time with Irina, and could tell you honestly how your friend is."

Melissa gazed at him again, considering his words. "I'll think about it," she finally said. "Okay, now I have two questions, Brackett. First off, are you going to tell anyone else at this hospital about me? And what exactly happens to me now, until we talk again tomorrow? I mean… I doubt you're going to spend a ton of time talking to me, since you just said you're tired." She glanced around the room indicatively.

He gave a bone popping yawn as if to give proof of her statement and shook his head, more to clear away the cobwebs than anything. "I recommend you stay here tonight, and maybe until your...Dr. Ratchet can come for you. I'll work that out, if you choose to stay. And didn't we already settle the whole are you going to say anything about me thing? You don't want me to, and until you say otherwise, or the situation changes, that's how it is, right? Although, you may want to think about telling Dix and Early. Early will find out anyway, he somehow does every time."

She scowled. "I said I'll think about whether or not I want to talk to that McCall nurse. But um…" Her brows furrowed. "What do you mean about Early? Is he a telepath or something?" She remembered meeting the man in Irina's room the other day, and he seemed… gentle, though he meant what he said. Was he nosey or anything? Did he already suspect something? Eh, she was probably just being damn paranoid.

Brackett laughed again, but not like before. "If Joe is a telepath that would explain a lot. No, he just pays attention to things no one would think twice about. He asks tough questions, but doesn't push too hard and backs off when you ask. And he definitely doesn't go around talking about things you don't want him to do. He's a man you can trust." He looked at his watch. "There's a hospital gown in the cabinet there, if you want to change. It's not much, but it's something. Or I can get you scrubs tomorrow. Whichever. And if you want to change tonight, do you need help? Any more questions?"

"Honestly Doc, at this point… I'd rather just be left alone. Go get your sleep, then we can talk more tomorrow." Melissa nestled down, wrapping the blanket tightly around herself and pressing her head into her pillow. "I'll just be bored out of my processor for a few hours, I guess. But I can reserve energy, so I won't need anything. At least not for a while."

Another yawn. "Okay. Sorry I can't give you anything to entertain yourself. Goodnight, Melissa Maximal." He didn't wait for a response and walked out the door.

She looked at his retreating back, then chuckled in spite of herself as the door closed. "Melissa Maximal… that's cute," she murmured. "Kinda like it."