red_diode_district | Can't Run Away Forever

She takes the bus now, more often than not.

She'd sold her old bike, dragged her dad off for a 'new start'; pretty much vanished off the grid for a while. Mikaela had done as much as she'd been allowed to do, to get away and keep from being found.

Keep from being found by her friends, at least.

A part of her - the bitter part - is sometimes upset that they never did. That they never tried, never suspected. But then again, the way she had broken up with Sam, real and so very angry...

That same bitter part, while upset, isn't surprised she'd been so easily forgotten.

And then Chicago had happened, freedom had come with a price for everyone, and...

Well. Being left alone was more understandable, after that.

So now Mikaela takes the bus, to and from her little backwoods, podunk gas station/convenience store/one-car garage quick-e-mart, the best she can get on just a highschool degree in this economy, expunged record or not. She does register and occasional garage work, and she has a good shot at making manager in the spring. Her dad has his own place, finally, moving in with a woman with little patience and no tolerance for his crap.

She's too good for him, and Mikaela is happy for them.

But being on her own leaves her with too much time to think, and despite no lack of offers, hints, and the same old innuendos, she's had no one since Sam. She's lonely, and alone in a world where no one remembers or cares who she is or what she's given up.

In short, it sucks, and playing at 'normal' isn't at all what it's cracked up to be.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

oneshallstand

Things haven't been 'normal' for Optimus Prime for thousands of years.

That said, he had gotten familiar with Earth; its people, its places, its way of working. And then their allies were, all at once, gone- the government they had come to trust shutting its doors, the organization they treated as equals dissolving. At first he had stayed in contact with them, as many as they good, but as weeks and months dragged on-

-it became rapidly clear that things were changing. And that once again, it would be necessary to remain in disguise.

So disguise he takes, with Bumblebee and the few other Autobots at his side. They spread out by necessity, only occasionally meeting up again for strategy meetings and the like- but it is becoming too dangerous to do so too often, and for too long. Because against all odds...

Something is hunting them.

Someone is hunting them.

Optimus Prime barely made it out of the last ordeal, but not without injuries. They force him to remain in altmode for now, a dingy old truck with none of the bold red and blue he had worn years ago. He finds a junkyard, a place which would normally cause him unease even knowing that none of these are his people- but now? Now it is hiding among the same, aged, beat-up, dusty old vehicles who will give him the cover he needs for his self-repair to take over.

The Autobot leader lets himself slip towards a healing stasis, conserving power and energy in what he can only hope will be as close to safety as he can get. For now.

From:

illdriveyoushoot

Of course, taking the bus leaves a lot to be desired.

Like getting home at night, after a long closing shift. Most of the bus routes are done for the evening, and the few that run through the night have their nearest stops a good fifteen minute hike from work. Dad sometimes picks her up, usually when it storms, but the town isn't rundown enough for her to be too worried.

Megatron was worth worrying over. Little punk humans in the night? Her mace and (slightly illegal) homemade taser-keychain left her with enough confidence to move with a bounce in her step.

She passes the junkyard/scrapyard on her way, unable to help sparing it a glance. Rusted out hulks of cars and trucks are a lot more morbid these days than they used to be.

Especially when they can sometimes resemble old friends.

From:

oneshallstand

Morbid is a good word.

Morbid is something that Optimus is getting more and more familiar with, despite his reluctance.

Resting in a scrapyard definitely fits the 'morbid' bill, with him half-buried under a handful to help make it look that he'd been there for some time. Still, as the night watch's flashlight sweeps by, he can't help but mentally wince; his appearance is more dirty than dusty, a sharp contrast to the rusted hulks he's hiding amongst, and for a moment Optimus wonders if he's been outed [he'd been sure to adjust his paint, there's no Autobot symbols visible he can think of, what could he be wearing to make them linger so?]

...and then they simply move on, leaving Optimus alone. He distantly picks up a mutter of 'must've brought it in the other day without telling me' which...works. For now.

From:

illdriveyoushoot

Old habits die hard.

The junkyard is still on the way to and from her usual bus-stop, and sometimes she swings through it and pokes through the scrap. Finding a good part on a wreck - despite the morbidity - is a simple thrill, but one that has never left Mikaela entirely.

The owner has gotten used to her hanging around during the day; they know each other by first name at this point, and he has a long standing deal with the garage for mutual parts and repairs. So occasionally, Mikaela passes on through, only doing any deep rummaging on off days when Tony gets in something new.

It's the next morning, and there shouldn't be anything new today - he didn't text her, the jerk - but the piles have shifted around some.

"Guess someone finally bought that old Caddy..."

Mikaela goes to take a look.

From:

oneshallstand

Optimus drifts in and out of stasis. He cannot afford to be completely blind to the world around him; on the other hand, without Ratchet to assist, his self-repair needs to be prioritized so that it can work. Even so, it won't be complete; some things will linger, but they'll have to remain until he can meet back up with his fellow Autobots. Even then...

He pulls himself half-awake at the sound of someone rummaging about; human, he distantly notes, prepared to drift back unless there's another stimulus. But something gives him pause.

The voice gives him pause, because he knows that voice.

It's too much to risk on so little, and so Optimus settles for simply letting his visual feeds ping on, slowly scanning and searching and...

...he wouldn't call it 'impossible', but the chance that it is who he suspects is so unlikely as to be absurd.

From:

illdriveyoushoot

She pokes around, weaving around the seemingly precariously stacked piles with the ease of familiarity. The Honda with the missing back end was gone, bought last Tuesday; the old Hippymobile was still around, friendly paint giving in to rust; and the Caddy was still there, sitting slumped in it's usual dusty spot of 'glory', despite the group of poor boys down the street who liked to make noise about buying it someday.

Frowning, Mikaela shook her head at it.

"Huh. Tony 'should be paying me to do inventory for him at this point."

She starts to turn back, but something - some faint sense, some mostly forgotten feeling itching at the primitive back of her brain, like static- makes her pause.

She spins on the spot, warily glancing around, keys and mace easily finding their place in her hand.

From:

oneshallstand

On the bright side, all that's staring at her appears to be a slightly-buried semitruck, lights off and dirt staining its faded blues.

On the down side, Optimus Prime has utterly no idea how he can be certain this is who it seems to be. Humans- while not looking all the same- are somewhat harder to tell apart than his fellow Cybertronians. And while his scanners tell him quite a lot...

If this is her, then she has changed. And how much is there that is below the surface? If it is her, if it is one of their old allies who took an absence- who is to say she still holds any thoughts for his and his own?

He settles for simply unlocking his doors, the sound muffled by the cars around him, but still an audible - if dulled - click.

From:

illdriveyoushoot

In looks, of course she's gotten older. Thinner, in some ways; sharper from stress, but more grown up. Almost twenty four now, different clothes, hair cut shorter, scar on her wrist-

Humans grow up.

The click might as well have been a gunshot. Mikaela starts, nearly dropping her keys, hands coming up over her mouth.

"No. No no no..."

But there are no Decepticons waiting in the piles of scrap. Only a dirty looking truck with unlocked doors.

It doesn't match.

The cab is all wrong.

There is no mark, Autobot or Decepticon.

But the feeling...

She steps closer, hand coming up to rest on the battered grill, tears welling up out of her eyes. It's warm.

From:

oneshallstand

By reaction alone, that is Mikaela Banes. Optimus feels a surge of guilt for the clear panic he instills, and thinks back to the circumstances of her departure; she had seemed so strong, but she had also seemed unable to simply continue further. They could do nothing but let her go, and here, no, it must seem as though he's tracked her down when this is simply pure chance.

He's tempted to just stay quiet, now, and slip back in to stasis. She's dealt with enough; there is no need to burden her with his own troubles.

And then she steps forward.

Optimus watches her soundlessly, uncertain how to react. He's nowhere near the amount of experience someone like Bumblebee has, not with Mikaela, not with any human; he's dealt with their soldiers, and certainly Sam and Mikaela as individuals, but that was some time ago.

The most he can do now without truly breaking cover is let his engine rumble on, the sound a quiet - and hopefully reassuring - almost-purr.

From:

illdriveyoushoot

The gentle rumble is all the reassurance she needs for that last bit of doubt. Her tears turn into a sob, and the last thing she can see clearly before her vision turns liquid is the blue paint a swipe of her palm uncovers under the dirt.

No flames, but there is only one 'bot that shade of blue.

"...Optimus? " It's breathed out in a gasp against metal - when did she lean forward, temple pressed against living steel - hopeful and disbelieving.

From:

oneshallstand

The engine doesn't so much grow quiet as fade off after a final (and brief) rev of confirmation, then allowed to trail in to silence. Yes, it's him.

If only he were better at reading human emotions, though- she seems to be relieved, were he any guess.

Still a friend, then.

After a few long moments, he lets his driver's side door open. He's in no state to simply drive off [not without causing far more trouble than it's worth], but not knowing if anyone else is nearby- he's uncertain whether it's safe enough to risk talking aloud. Normally he'd simply transform, but these are hardly normal times.

Even by Earth standards.

Within the cab, his radio crackles to life, for the moment only offering a bit of static- but she's smart, isn't she? She'll catch the implications.

From:

illdriveyoushoot

Hearing that additional 'click' of the door opening is enough to cut through her tears with a jolt of fear. But not for herself.

Her first thought is Decepticons. Optimus looks injured - he's probably on the run, separated from the others.

But why is he here? Were they looking for her, finally?

Wiping her hand messily over her face, she turns and climbs up into the truck and closes the door after herself.

"Optimus..."

Her voice breaks; for some reason, she's shaking. It feels like getting into Bumblebee all over again.

"What's going on?"

From:

oneshallstand

As always, his first thought is not for himself. His radio emits a bit more static- and then his voice, calm and concerned.

And...tired.

"Easy, Mikaela. This is a matter of circumstance; I did not know you were here."

A pause.

"But...it is good to see you are well. We had worried, after your leave."

He makes no comment as to the state of his interior; part of the disguise involved altering that, too, in to something somewhat more...dingy. But some of the tears and rips, the fact that the passenger-side seat looks like nothing more than scrap metal- there's no hiding that damage.

From:

illdriveyoushoot

Oh.

Right.

"...Of course not." It's muttered, not even meant to be heard - though she is perfectly aware of how sensitive Cybertronian hearing is.

But they worried. That was something, right? She takes a deep breath, straightening up in the seat and wiping away the rest of her tears firmly. Don't be a baby, Banes.

Eyes clear, she can see the state of Optimus' interior and makes a face.

"Yeah, thanks. ...Can't really say the same in return - you look like shit."

She could explain. She could question him more about if why they worried so much, that no one tried to even talk to her. But with Optimus looking as bad as he does...

Instead she explodes a bit, the pent up years of worry and grief and anger coming out all at once. She gives his steering wheel a smack, twisting in her (his) seat to gesture around at him.

"What happened with you guys? I heard about Chicago - obviously - and you all getting blown up! Scared the shit out of me! I thought you were all dead- and then Chicago happened - and now you're here - by chance - and you look like someone chewed you up! What the hell have I missed!?"

From:

oneshallstand

This was...not the set of reactions he had expected.

From the bitterness(?) covered by the norm, a half-insult(?), and then- well. All that. Optimus' optics would flare in brief surprise, were they visible; as it is, there's a subtle tension within the vehicle. Despite his best attempts to hide it, Mikaela is literally surrounded by his presence; she can't miss the way everything goes absolutely silent and still.

"...I was under the impression that you had wanted no further part in events," he ventures finally. "And, here- wanted to affirm you were...safe."

As opposed to those they had to leave, because the risk for all of them was simply too high. He may yet have to leave, because no doubt his enemies are hunting for him even now, and he cannot endanger another like this.

Especially not Mikaela.

From:

illdriveyoushoot

For a long moment, Mikaela goes as still as Optimus. There is a flicker of worry that she may have pissed him off- but at the words, Mikaela laughs.

She stops and laughs until the tears come again, until they turn to sobs and she curls her legs up in his seat, hugging her knees as she struggles to breathe.

"Wow. J-just wow. And here I th-thought my story was p-pretty shit at the time."

She shakes her head, hair falling everywhere as she presses her face into her knees.

"I never wanted to le-leave, Optimus. I didn't have a choice in the matter."

From:

oneshallstand

That is...decidedly. Not a normal set of human reactions.

Optimus can only watch at her, feeling oddly helpless; it's clear now that there's been no small amount of deception and lies, but that...it may not be her own. Her phrasing, her unspoken words...

A few more moments and he searches his systems for an ill-used, but- still somewhat working program. Next to her, in the ruined seat, there's a humming sound- and then an image flickers to life, a hologram of a man with a red shirt and piercing blue eyes. Though they're gentle, now, even with the hologram flickering off and on.

It may be a frivolous use of energy, but it's minor enough that he can justify using it. And even if it wasn't...

"Mikaela," he says, projecting his voice in to the display. Trying to give her something to focus on, something at least remotely familiar if he cannot transform here, "Could you not ask us for help?"

Because if his guess is right- she may have needed it, and they may have failed her.

From:

illdriveyoushoot

Still hunched over, Mikaela jumps a bit when Optimus' holoform comes to life next to her. She only ever saw it once or twice, before - but it's a friendly enough face, and she knows enough about them to not be any more startled.

She also knows enough to be distantly worried about that flickering, but she's too distraught to think much on it now.

"Of course not," she sniffs, rubbing her dripping face on her work pants before meeting the holoform's gaze with red eyes.

"And I mean I l-literally. Could. Not."

Turning stiffly in her seat, she offers the holoform her left wrist. There is a repeating, segmented pattern - a scar, still raised despite the white of age - looping around it. Even a casual scan would make it obvious at the bone under it, ridged oddly in places, was broken at one time.

"'Con called Soundwave and his creepy little goon bugged me."

From:

oneshallstand

The holoform doesn't need to look down; it continues looking at Mikaela's face as Optimus' scanners focus on the area. Its expression doesn't change, but the tense feeling in the cab returns; this time, accompanied by suppress anger.

He should not be surprised.

"He is dead," Optimus assures her, his flickering holo-eyes narrowing the only sign of his anger. How dare Soundwave- a similar treatment as Sam had been given, it seems. With then, though, it had only been for a small period of time. With Mikaela...

"I am only sorry you were not able to partake in his fall."

From:

illdriveyoushoot

That phrasing seems a bit off - Optimus is clearly angry, she can feel it all around her, but he doesn't seem surprised.

"This a common thing he did or something?" She blinks, drawing her hand back, balling up her sleeve to wipe more tears. The rest of the news earns Optimus his first genuine grin from Mikaela, even if the expression is decidedly feral.

"Couldn't have happened to a nicer 'con. I hope it was messy - the little bug-drone didn't exactly go down easy."

She flops her wrist pointedly, which gives an answering pop.

From:

oneshallstand

"Sam was targeted as well." They didn't know it at the time, but as awful as it was...it was terribly good timing. For the Autobots, at least. At their angriest, when whey were willing to let others believe they had abandoned them...

The hologram nods slightly, a new understanding - and respect - dawning in its owner. Soundwave may have fallen, but that meant nothing for the drone that had taken Mikaela. Which meant that she may very well have dealt with it herself.

And organics don't recover from injury as well as a medic-repaired Cybertronian.

"You are brave. Both to take the burden upon yourself, and to deal with its after-"

Flickerstatichiss as something pops. It may be difficult for a semitruck to wince, but somehow it does, as a torn wire decides then to fully break. And while it's not crippling- it is a painful moment.

From:

illdriveyoushoot

"Sam? Seriously?"

She rears back in her seat, genuinely shocked. They'd gone after her because Sam was too well-watched. How did they even manage it? How did they figure out what happened to him and not her?

"What happe-" She winces at the pop, weirdly echoing her own wrist. Sitting up and uncurling from the seat, Mikaela glances around Optimus' interior, making a face at the static running through the holoform.

Right. Tearful revelations later, injured Big Buddha issues now.

"Optimus, that...didn't sound good. How injured are you?"

From:

oneshallstand

Injured Big Buddha stubbornly trying to reroute power to the holomatter as a matter of pride before sighing, and then letting it stay off. "I had...planned to rest here for a while," he admits after a few moments, "and to allow my self-repair to do what it could."

That's not really an answer.

"There was a combat," he adds after a few moments more, "and Ratchet is elsewhere. I will have him see to my injuries once we are able to reunite."

It may be something in his tone, but it sounds like it might not be for a while.

From:

illdriveyoushoot

It really isn't a very good answer.

"Sounds like they can't really wait."

Mikaela made a face when the holoform vanished, before turning her attention back toward Optimus' dash in lieu of having anything defined to stare at. She took a deep breath, which still rattled a bit, steadying herself from her earlier upset.

"Look. I still don't know what all is going on - and I want to - but if Ratchet is a ways out... You need to get the big stuff repaired at least, and this is not the best place to work in. Or even to hide in."

She gestured out his windows toward the scrap piles, which were bound to have people poking around throughout the day.

"Can you move at all? There is a garage down the street where I work. I can put you on the 'work list' and you can hide out in the back until after close, where I can try to do what I can."

Because there is no question that she will help.

From:

oneshallstand

Sorry, Mikaela, he can't quite get it back up right now. Try again later.

"I am...hesitant...to put you in any danger. Especially with what you have already gone through, Mikaela."

Hesitant? Reluctantly realizing he may have no choice but to accept her offer, if only from a logical standpoint. Emotionally is another story, and these last few years have not been kind to his psyche.

Can he risk endangering one of the few allies they have left?