Chapter 1: Prologue
Chapter Text
All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another. ~Anatole France
December 24
The snow had stopped falling some time ago, the clouds giving way to the full moon’s brilliant power, illuminating a winter wonderland. The cold couldn’t touch the cheer that overfilled the little town; couldn’t deter the carolers roaming from door to door, singing of good tidings and Christmas spirit. Families loitered on the sidewalks, laughing with friends as their children frolicked through the snow, cheeks and noses stained pink. Holiday lights and decorations twinkled merrily from every house, casting colorful dancers on the streets.
A man walked alone along the road, his back to the life and joy. Even with no one to see, he could not contain his content smile as he soaked in the serenity and love his home was surrounded by. Taking a deep breath, he relished the crisp, clean air, made only a little sharper by the quiet as he broke the line of the last house. Checking his watch, he determined he had at most thirty minutes before the family hoard would come looking for him. As much as he adored every single member of his large family, there was only so much noise he could take in a single sitting. So he continued to walk away from the celebrations, reveling in the unearthly quiet the snow always brought about while he could.
It didn’t take long to reach the very outskirts of town, the shops locked up and dark for the holidays. He shoved his boots into the light layer of snow, mindlessly kicking it up as he recalled memories of his childhood here; how he’d climbed that tree on the top of the hill to impress Sally Reynolds but broken his arm for his trouble. To this day he swore the kiss she’d gifted him was well worth it. His lips twitched as he passed the shop he’d once skateboarded off of, only to land in the back of his mother’s truck as she rolled by. A relaxed sigh escaped him as he let the memories weave their visions of a carefree youth across his eyes. Idly he wondered if the old mill still stood at the end of Bonnie Lake Road. Glancing at his watch again, he figured he had enough time to find out.
It really wasn’t a surprise to find the thing still standing, dark and dreary; the wood sagged in what could be imagined grief and exhaustion. A limp wreath hung from the door, adding to the sad look instead of dampening it. The boards groaned and creaked in protest against the breeze and the weight of the snow. The man grinned to himself, feeling foolish at having once been afraid of the ‘haunted’ mill, of spending an entire night inside by himself to prove that he was a ‘man’. It had been a strong tradition passed down among the town boys. Ten years later he knew it probably still was.
Another sigh, he should come home more often, the happiness of the whole town was infectious. The worries melted away when he came here. Everyone was an innocent, with no idea what was going on with the rest of the world. It was perfect.
Turning away from the mill, he started back towards town, mentally preparing himself for another few hours of cheerful noise. Burrowing into his coat as the wind grew in strength, he almost relished the bite on his cheeks and nose. So different from the blistering heat of the desert.
The moon tucked away behind a thick cloud and belatedly he remembered a storm was supposed to be rolling in tonight. Almost as if to mock him for walking so far, the clouds released large snowflakes onto his head. At least the reflective snow still provided plenty of light to see the road and a steaming cup of coffee awaited him when he walked back through the door.
Then again, maybe he’d give in to the desire for cocoa, complete with whipped cream and everything.
He’d almost made it to the first shop when a peculiar sound reached his ears over the whistling wind; growling. Turning back the way he had come, he was assaulted by a blinding light as he placed the noise with a high powered engine. The car fully crested the hill, dropping down the slope and finally removing the glaring headlights from his vision. It was an odd thing, someone driving around this late on Christmas Eve, even stranger for it to be such a nice car. Then again, the Radcliffe's across the way had said they were hoping their granddaughter would be coming in tonight.
The wind was rapidly growing to a howl, burning his exposed ears and hurtling snow down the back of his neck, making him wish he’d thought to grab his scarf before stepping out.
He was hardly a car expert, but the flashy, purring, silver machine that slid across the ice next to him probably cost more than a pretty penny. There really was no way he wasn’t going to admire the sleek curves as it came to a full stop. He was a guy after all, it was practically in his blood.
The passenger door swung open, the interior light momentarily blinding him again.
“Excuse me,” a male voice called out from the driver’s side. It took several seconds for his eyes to adjust enough to look the other man straight on, noting he looked somewhat like one of his uncle’s buddies. The driver chuckled as he held up an upside-down map. “I’m a bit lost, I’m afraid. I was wondering if you could show me how to get back to the interstate?”
“Sure thing.” He moved closer to the vehicle at the driver’s prompting, leaning partially into the car to show the man the correct route, taking notice of the rich leather under his fingertips. He hoped the driver didn’t have too far to go. This storm was getting worse by the minute and no one should be stuck on the road away from family on Christmas Eve.
“You go back the way you came until you reach this junction,” he instructed, running a finger over the path on the map, “then you’ll take this left--”
The wind gusted, slamming the door into the back of his legs and pitching him forward into the car, whose interior light had suddenly gone out. A sharp prick on his neck made him wonder if he’d been stung or zapped, but before he could give it much thought or retract from the car, he felt his muscles go limp and his mind turn fuzzy.
The car jolted oddly, drawing the man’s legs inside before snapping the door shut. The driver paid little mind to his new passenger, spinning the car around and speeding off the way he had come. The wind silenced the throaty roar of his engine as the heavy snowfall wiped away the evidence of his existence.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
For it being such a late hour on Christmas Eve, the streets were surprisingly packed with people. Then again, this was New York, the city that never sleeps; not even, apparently, on rain-soaked holidays. People bustled back and forth, arms loaded with colorful, bulging bags while screens flashed their various advertisements, urging the crowds into stores that never closed. Twas the night before the most gift-giving day of the year, and this was New York, so why not go a little crazy? The pain in the wallet could be acknowledged later, after the presents brought joyous expressions and exclamations from friends and family.
Jewelers particularly loved this day and had all hands on deck as husbands and boyfriends rushed for some last minute sparkle that would make up for the raunchy gifts they suddenly realized would probably get them in trouble.
Women emptied the shelves of tape and wrapping paper, finding out the hard way they didn’t have as much as they’d thought they’d had left over from the year before and small roles didn’t go nearly as far as they should have.
Missing from the streets were the children, who were all tucked into their beds, attempting to fall asleep so Santa could come yet too excited and hyped on candy canes to lie still for more than a few seconds. Many attempted to creep out of their rooms to catch a glimpse of the elusive jolly man, and to check on the cookies left out for him.
The elders were the only ones resting peacefully on this particular evening; they had done this song and dance far too many times to not have it figured out by now. They were ready for the crazy morning to come a week in advance. So while the youngsters scurried about, they could laugh and reminisce and sip on a spiked glass of eggnog.
It was the Chaos of Christmas and it occurred every year without fail. Rain, snow, or ice cold nights couldn’t hold back the tide of last minute shoppers mobbing the stores and shop owners would never complain as they heard those registers ring. Taxi services loved it almost as much, more specifically, the ones just like this, where the pounding rain simply made walking too miserable to bear. The yellow cars were as coveted as the hottest toys that continuously flew from the shelves. The high demand urged the drivers to drive just a little bit faster, hoping to cram as many miles in as possible before the crowds disappeared until New Years.
There were always the unlucky few who found themselves without that desired toy or stranded on the wet streets and forced to make the walk home. One of those unfortunate individuals was a woman on vacation in the big city, hoping to grab a few great souvenirs for her younger siblings before the stores were utterly gutted. While she’d achieved the goal of finding things they would love, she was failing at finding a ride back to her hotel. Hefting the heavy bags up her arms, she muttered to herself a few words that were decidedly absent of holiday cheer and set off down the street.
Easier said than done to walk down a New York sidewalk with arms loaded to the max. The woman felt much like a ship’s rope trying to thread through a needle.
Salvation! Through the throngs she spotted a cab pulling up to the curb, relieving its burden of two men just six paces ahead of her. All she had to do was reach it and climb in before anyone else. She made it only two steps before a small hoard of women besieged the cheerfully colored car, filling it to the brim. Her fingertips grazed the trunk as her rescue whipped back out into the road.
The woman huffed, wondering what had possibly given her the bright idea of coming out of her warm and dry hotel room tonight. She trudged on, cursing the rain as it came down harder.
“Need a ride?” She wasn’t sure what made her turn, the man who’d spoken couldn’t have been talking to her, she didn’t know anyone in the city. But turn she did, finding a red sports car she hadn’t even heard approach coasting next to her, the passenger window rolled down while the driver leaned over the console, staring expectantly at her.
“Are you a taxi?” she asked before mentally kicking herself as he laughed. He had a nice laugh, she decided.
He shook his head, brunette hair falling over dark eyes. “No, just going in the same direction. I saw how close you were to grabbing the last cab. So do you need a ride? Or are you enjoying the rain too much?”
He grinned. Oh he certainly had a nice smile too.
The thought of a warm, dry ride with a gorgeous man was almost too good to be true, but the warning bells stayed silent. She was surrounded by people in one of the busiest parts of town. Plus it was Christmas, people often reached out and did unexpected acts of kindness around the holidays. The fact that the driver and his car belonged on a movie screen was just a bonus. This was New York, after all, stranger things had happened.
Realizing she’d probably kept him waiting too long, she snapped out of her thoughts, decided to live in the moment and opened the door. “Thank you so much.”
Smiling, she piled her bags in the car before getting in herself and swinging the door shut behind her. “I’m staying at the Hilton if you’re willing to go that far, or you can drop me off anywhere, a taxi or bus station.”
Snapping her mouth shut, she cursed herself for rambling and reminded herself, ‘ Live in the moment, stop overthinking things’ .
“Thanks again, really, you’re a lifesaver.” The man returned her smile with his own as he pulled away from the curb, locks clicking into place as he sped into and around traffic.
The crowds continued to pulse on, not giving even a second glance to the woman who got into the red car. This was Christmas Eve, there were simply too many things left to do and too many people to weave through to take notice of an un-extraordinary woman doing an equally un-extraordinary act.
Miles away, a man bundled in a ragged coat looked up from his barrel-fire as a throaty engine roared by the entrance of his alley. These roads were usually quiet after dark and certainly nothing so nice went through this side of town. Tugging his coat tighter around him, he stepped out from the protection of his tarp to investigate what had been tossed--or fallen--from the expensive car. He warily picked up the bags of clothes and gifts, looking down the road for any sign the car might be coming back. There was none.
As he returned to his fire with new possessions in tow, the rain continued to pour.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
December 25
The cargo plane’s landing certainly wasn’t the smoothest it could have been and the Major on board had to wonder if the crew had already broken into the eggnog despite it only being a few hours into Christmas morning.
As much as he wanted to be home with his wife and daughter, getting back to his home-away-from-home from a mission that sustained zero loss of life was a gift in his book. Now he could enjoy the holiday and allow the families of those around him to enjoy it as well.
The massive loading ramp finally lowered and the soldier paused a moment at the top as the morning sun blinded him. Already the heat was a force to be reckoned with. An engine revved behind him, a thick, black bumper lightly pushing into his back as he tarried too long. Lennox smirked as he let himself be guided down the ramp. For all his big, tough attitude, the truck really didn’t like flying. The soldier would have dared say the mech was afraid of flying, if he was willing to be stuck riding in the truck’s bed...again.
Making his way towards the officer’s barracks, Lennox weaved easily through the orderly chaos of NEST soldiers going about their business of unloading the plane. Many stopped to salute him and he waved them on, eager for the luke-warm shower that awaited him. It never mattered where the mission took him or if they made enemy contact or not, he always ended up covered in a layer of sweat, grime, and questionable substances. He was ready to feel clean and human again, even if there was only one water temperature on Diego Garcia and he was more than likely to find several pesky red crabs inhabiting his bathroom.
Many blessedly long minutes later the Major walked back into the sun, damp hair, clean clothes and off duty for the next 24 hours.
“.... body was found on the side of the 415 highway; authorities have yet to identify the victim and cause of death but tell us the older woman has been deceased for several days…” One of the several news stations blared out above the rest, commanding the main screen and greeting Lennox as he walked into the rec room.
“Epps!” he hollered, waving at the black man lounging on one of the couches, surrounded by remotes. “Turn that off! It’s Christmas, no news on Christmas!”
He grinned as the airman laughed, obediently flipping all ten televisions to the annual broadcasts of holiday movies.
“So how was the trip?” Epps smirked, having already heard Ironhide grumbling about cowardly ‘Cons and too-small planes just moments before.
Lennox groaned, dropping onto the couch with his friend. “The signal we’d picked up disappeared before we were even completely across the water. Whatever they were looking for, they found and cleared out.”
“What is that?” The two men glanced behind them as a silver frame rolled into the room, blue optics flashing from the soldiers to the screens.
“Rudolph, care to join us?” Lennox offered, motioning to the super-sized ‘couches’ set up behind their own row of seats.
Sideswiper took another look at the movie. “Its nose is glowing.”
“Yep.” Lennox was almost impressed with the Cybertronian ability to mimic human facial expressions. The confusion on the silver mech’s face was providing more entertainment than the 60’s stop motion.
“It’s a talking deer.”
“Reindeer, actually,” Epps supplied helpfully, taking full enjoyment of the moment.
The Autobot’s optics dimmed for a moment as he accessed the internet. “It looks nothing like a reindeer….is it flying ?”
“Yes, yes he is.” Lennox didn’t even try to stop or hide his grin, pondering how the ‘bot would react to some of the 80’s cartoons and wondering if it would be anything like the fiasco that occured after introducing a certain black-and-white to Scooby Doo.
Sideswipe shook his head, rolling back towards the exit while muttering about the deranged creations of humans.
“Rudolph is a classic!” Epps shouted after him, “Don’t knock the classics!”
The rec room now void of distractions, the two men turned back to enjoy the simplicity of the storyline. Epps mused it would probably be next for a Hollywood reboot.
“ ....all units we have an APB on a missing person. Be on the lookout for a 24 year old white male… ” The soldiers groaned in unison as their movie was once again interrupted by an Autobot, the mech passing through towards the Energon dispenser tucked into the corner.
“It’s Christmas, Prowl! No police scanners on Christmas,” Lennox chastised, doubting the cruiser ever didn’t monitor the scanners.
“Crime does not stop simply for a day in which a portion of Earth’s populace celebrates,” the tactician replied, grabbing his Energon cube and disappearing the way he had come, scanner still spitting details about the latest missing person.
Epps rolled his eyes. “I swear he’s a metal Spock.”
Lennox couldn’t help but agree and the two fell back into comfortable silence, enjoying the peace that came with watching a movie they’d both grown up with.
The base rocked with the force of a booming explosion, the TV’s fading out for a breath. A single alarm followed; a short, low buzz that had come to be known as the ‘Wheeljack alarm’. Epps shifted his position on the couch, throwing his hands behind his head. “Just another day in paradise.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
December 26
This was hell.
The smell alone was enough to roll even the strongest stomachs. The stench coated the air, melding with the fog to create a thick smog that clung to the mountain valley for acres.
Tom usually loved his job as a Forest Ranger, investigating animal reports in Mother Nature’s most beautiful landscapes was a dream. But searching for the source of this smell had to be the worst assignment in the history of bad assignments. It clung to him, seeping through his coat and pasting against his skin in a layer of freezing grime that would take days to scrub off. His throat tightened, repeatedly tensing as his body attempted to throw up again even when there was nothing left to hurl.
Honestly, sewers in summer were better than this.
Reaching the lowest part of the valley, he eyed the barely visible treetops as they dwindled in number to give way to what he knew was a rolling field of vegetation that was waist high by mid spring. The stench grew stronger with every step, he didn’t even know it was possible to get worse than it already was. A few steps more and his body could take it no longer, forcing him to bend and heave for the sixth time in an hour. This really couldn’t be healthy for him. He should have demanded a gas mask. Not that anyone had guessed it would be this bad. Tear gas was probably less painful to breathe.
The smog was thickest here, limiting his sight to only a few feet in front of him. The smell of decay was almost tangible in the air.
He didn’t know it was possible for something to smell so putrid, for scent alone to suffocate him. There was no way this was a single dead animal like they’d all thought. He wasn’t even sure a hundred dead animals could give off something so foul.
His boots squelched in the grass, bringing his trek to a halt as he paused to see just what he had stepped in. He knew these grounds, there was no water source inside a mile and it hadn’t rained or snowed in the last week. It was barely above freezing. Whatever he’d stepped in, the ground was drenched in it.
Both of his boots were wet, soaked and stained up the sides in red.
Something near his foot caught his attention as he frowned at his boots.
His gut revolted and he retched again, turning away from the thing in the grass. Fumbling with his radio, Tom attempted to reach the station, cursing the lack of cell service up here. This was so far beyond his pay grade it would be laughable if it wasn’t so horrifying. He needed the police.
As he struggled to reach anyone with the communication device, desperately hoping someone would hear his call, he morbidly wondered just who the arm pressed into the mud had belonged to and where the rest of their body was.
He was hardly an expert on injuries, but he knew the blood on the ground was far too much to have come from a single arm, to have come from a single body . His gut rolled as he dared look again, noting the low decay in the torn flesh. This was not the cause of the horrendous stench. There was something else out here.
Cursing again as his radio continued to receive nothing but static, Tom realized he’d have to hike all the way out to find cell service of any kind.
Taking careful steps, he continued through the newly made bog, all the while attempting to raise someone, anyone, on the radio. He’d never had issues reaching the station from the valley before, why did it have to be now?
Hope swelled as he heard a roaring engine cut through the fog, he wasn’t alone! This person could give him a ride back to the station; get him the hell away from here faster than two legs could take him.
Turning, he tried to pinpoint where exactly the sound was coming from. It was almost impossible as the fog and the valley scattered the source, leaving him to make at best a guess of the direction of whatever large truck was out there. Off to the right then, there was an old logging road in that direction, it had to be where the 4x4 had come from.
With that in mind, Tom headed off, disappearing into the fog.
Chapter 2: So It Begins
Chapter Text
Innocence most often is a good fortune and not a virtue. ~Anatole France
Idaho
Four days after Christmas and the officers moved about at a leisurely pace as the detectives and lieutenants finished up old case reports, the phones blessedly quiet.
The dawn's light shined merrily through the front windows, belaying the freezing temperatures outside. The snow may be holding off for now, but it was on the horizon as winter came in full-force. Everyone in the precinct was grateful for the lack of calls, none of them were looking forward to leaving the heated comfort of the office for their cold patrol cars.
The calls that did come in were from a handful of hapless drivers that had ended up in the ditch when a patch of black ice sent them skidding in the wrong direction. Once assuring that no one was hurt or in need of law enforcement aid, they were transferred to the towing companies.
"Detective Blake," one officer paused in her reports to answer her desk phone, her attention still on the paperwork in front of her. It may be the bane of her existence, but it was worth it to spend a few hours killing trees to be able to dedicate her life to helping people.
"Darcy, I need your help." The desperation in the female voice gave the detective pause, pen poised above paper and a million scenarios running through her mind.
"What's wrong, Amy?" She couldn't say she knew the woman all that well, they went to high school together once upon a lifetime ago and it was a small enough town that almost everyone at least knew about everyone else. She knew Amy wasn't a woman who lost her cool often.
"It's Andrew, he didn't come home from his hike last night," her voice wobbled, cueing the detective that she was barely holding back her panic.
"Deep breaths, Amy. Are you sure he wasn't planning to stay the night?" It wouldn't be the first time Amy's husband had gone off to the woods and decided to stay the night, but her panic about his absence was unusual.
"No! He swore he was just going up for a few hours with his friends! He said he'd be back by dark! Every time he's stayed the night he's always back by morning! Something happened, I just know it. What if he got hurt?" She was talking herself to a full blown panic attack and there was nothing Darcy could really do to help the woman over the phone. Dropping her pen, she kept the phone pressed to her ear as she stood and pulled her thick winter jacket on.
"I need you to stay calm, Amy. Andrew knows what he's doing. He'll probably come walking through your door any minute now. Just hang tight and I'll be there in a few minutes." Her personal cell got tucked into her pocket, hands searching her desk for her keys.
"Thank you," Amy breathed, hanging up a second later. Darcy dropped the phone back on the receiver, claiming her keys from the stack of papers they'd been covered with. Her quiet day was over.
"New case?" the homicide detective seated across from her asked, brows raised as he looked at her over his reading glasses. John should have been promoted six times over, but he'd refused every time. He liked what he did and he wasn't going to settle into being a desk jockey. The man would only give up his walking boots when it was time to trade them in for a fishing pole. A day that was rapidly approaching.
"Andrew didn't make it back from his hike last night, I'm going to check it out." There was a strong possibility the man would beat her to his house, but she would still go, even if in the end all she was was a brief relief for Amy. It was a hell of a lot better ending than having to confess for the eighth time that no new leads had pointed towards their missing loved one.
Her old mentor nodded, returning his attention to his own reports. "Let me know if you need fresh eyes."
"Thanks John, we might need the search crews again." It was the same offer he always made when she got a call about a missing person, just as his salute was the same as she turned to leave. He had her back as much as she had his.
Stepping outside, Darcy quickly zipped up her jacket, shivering as the breaching sun did nothing to warm the frigid air. It almost seemed to give it more bite than warmth.
It was a twenty minute drive to Amy's side of town, made longer by the ice that clung to the roads, threatening and eager to send the next unsuspecting car into the ditch. Darcy was thankful she had enough experience driving in winter conditions and her SUV had an iron grip to keep her on the road the entire way.
Pulling into Amy's driveway, she noted that Andrew must have taken the little red Chevy S10 and sent out an APB on it before getting out and heading for the door.
Ringing the bell, it took less than three seconds for the door to fly open and a small body to fling itself at the detective.
"Thank God you're here; I can't take this by myself! Why isn't he back yet? What happened to him? Was he attacked by a bear? Oh my god, he was attacked by a bear." Darcy could only let the hysterical woman ramble into her shoulder as her words quickly melted down into sobs.
"Come on, let's get inside so you can tell me the whole story. He hasn't been attacked by a bear, they're hibernating, remember?" She tried to be as comforting as possible as she steered the woman back into the house, but it was this part of the job that was not her strong suit. Amy was usually steadier than this, too, which left her unsure just why this time was so different. Sure her husband was later than he'd ever been, but not by much. It was just as likely he was hurt somewhere as his truck simply refused to start in the cold, or got stuck on one of the logging roads, and he was having to walk out to find cell service. Some of those trail heads could take hours to get to from the main road.
As she moved the woman towards the couch, a sinking pit of dread dropped into her gut. Somethingwasdifferent about this time. Amy could feel it, she could feel it. If something really had happened and Andrew was missing, he would make the fourth thisweek, in what was generally the quietest time of year. People simply did not go missing around Christmas in this town and people certainly did not drop off the face of the planet without a trace. And yet that was exactly what her other three had done.
"Do you know where he was planning on hiking?" she asked once Amy had calmed herself enough to be coherent again.
"He said he was going up to the Deadwood Reservoir," she sniffed, rubbing at the tears staining her cheeks.
"You said he went up with friends?" Darcy followed up, making a note in her notebook about the trail to check out. None of the other three had gone up to Deadwood, but they had all been going on hikes. Her dread deepened.
Amy nodded, "Yeah, Jake and Brian."
The detective knew those two men, a pair of harmless flirts that were as obsessed with the outdoors as Andrew was. They were all experienced hikers, which meant their chances of survival were high if it was an accident that had waylaid them.
The interview continued easily enough as Darcy recorded all of the necessary details about what he was wearing, when he left, and what kind of gear he had on him. Almost an hour later she left the house, theories running rampant in her head. Hikers went up and disappeared in those mountains all year long, but most of their either found their way out in a day or two or were pulled out by Search and Rescue. Andrew had spent enough of his life on those trails to be one of those who stumbled his way out, especially with his fellow hiking-enthusiast friends. But a nagging voice in the back of her mind wasn't sure he'd be walking out on his own this time. Ten of the last twelve who'd vanished up there hadn't made it back. For some reason, the odds had shifted against him, especially if he and his friends got separated.
Something was going on up there, something more than people just losing the trail. The range was far too large for any kind of real investigating, especially by herself. First things first, she needed to head back to the station and find out if either of the other two men had made it home. With any luck, at least one of them had come down for help and would be able to lead rescuers straight to the other two.
The trip back took nearly twice as long as she pulled over several times to check on drivers stuck in the ditch or against a guard rail. One thing was for sure, the towing business was booming.
Another hour and two worried calls later and the dread had fully engulfed the detective; neither of the other two men had been seen or heard from. Three missing at the same time, six in one week, twenty in the last two months; all had gone into the National Forest, none had come out. None had beenrecoveredeither, which kept her awake more than the fact they'd lost their way to begin with. They had the planned trails, Search and Rescue knew exactly where people got hurt or lost their way on those paths, and yet had been unable to find a sign of anyone anywhere. They were just gone, as if they'd never been there. If it were a handful over the year, no one would blink. It was sad, but it was hardly out of the norm. Not anymore. It was too damn many in too short a period to be nothing.
So what the hell was going on up there?
The department issued SUV had the power and traction to make it up to the trailhead even in decent snow, which was a high possibility given its elevation. Pulling out of the precinct, she dialed Search and Rescue, giving them the heading they were already prepared to take thanks to John's heads up.
She still beat them to the Deadwood trailhead, noting in distaste that though the snow had held off up here, it was encased in a thick fog. Getting a helicopter would be impossible. It was eerily silent as she stepped out of her car, grating against her nerves as she approached Andrew's Chevy.
As expected, their things were gone and the rig was as cold as the air around it. The men had at least started their trip without incident. Ten miles sat between the truck and the reservoir they were supposedly heading towards. The Deadwood Trail split off at least six times in those ten miles, twisting into other trail systems that covered hundreds of miles. If they decided to make a different turn as a spur of the moment thing, it could be months before anyone found them.
Darcy knew she had several more minutes before the search crew would get there, so she went about scouring the parking lot for anything that stood out before it was filled with trucks. She doubted she would find anything given the normalcy of the little red truck, but it was worth a shot. There were several old tire tracks pressed into the gravel and dirt, but none were discernible enough to get an impression of, nor were they fresh enough to bother trying. This was a popular trail after all, even in winter.
She sighed, her breath freezing in the air. It was too quiet with just her and the two silent vehicles. She'd heard silence before, enjoyed the absence of ambient noise, but the pure lack of anything aside from her breathing combined with the thick fog obscuring her vision and the cold numbing her body was creating a chilling, other-worldly feel. It set her nerves on edge, having her senses robbed so, made her strain to see or hearsomething, which only further heighted the feeling of being isolated when she failed to do both. She wished the rescue crew would get there faster.
Goosebumps pricked up on her arms, the hairs on the back of her neck standing at attention at the sensation of being watched. There was a reason she'd joined the police force instead of the rangers; she wasn't cut out for the isolated life, it just made her paranoid. Cursing the foolish feeling, she rubbed her hands together to work the blood back into her fingertips. There was no one there, nothing around but her SUV and the pickup.
Even if there was, she wouldn't be able to see it through the fog.
Just as she was about to give in to the nerves demanding she wait it out in her car, the rumbling of multiple heavy-duty engines wafted through the air, steadily growing louder. Darcy let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding in as the crews pulled in, filling the lot with crunching gravel and chatting men. They loved their job and they loved the woods, but none of them were thrilled to be meeting with her again.
"What do you have for us, Blake?" Walter Jones, the team leader, questioned as he approached her.
"Three men this time: Andrew Wane, Jake Baxter, and Brian Spellman. They went out yesterday and didn't make their scheduled return time last night," she answered, handing him pictures of each man, which he studied for a moment before passing along to his boys behind him.
"And we're just getting called about it?" he raised his brows in question. Usually missing hikers warranted a call at two in the morning, not ten.
"All three are experienced and have been late before because they found a new trail they wanted to check out. Their wives wanted to give them until morning before calling."
The man nodded as his volunteers separated themselves into their allotted groups. "We have a heading?"
"Deadwood Reservoir was their target. They swore they weren't going to take any side trails." Which wasn't as helpful as it sounded, given how many little trails went to or around the reservoir itself or to lookouts of it. There was still an impressive amount of ground to cover and not a lot of daylight to do it, but it was more than they sometimes had. She would never understand some people's need for absolute secrecy when it came to what trail they were taking. It was risky at best and deadly at worst. Who knows how many the search crews might have reached in time if only they'd known where to start.
Shoving those thoughts from the forefront of her mind, she told herself for the hundredth time not to go down that rabbit trail. Maybe nothing would have been different; she'd only drive herself mad wondering about it. Could-have-beens and maybes did nothing for the people that needed her help now.
"Joining the search?" Walter asked the same as he did every time.
Just as Darcy was forced to answer the same, a grimace on her lips. "You know I wish I could."
Once upon a time when she'd been a beat cop, she could have joined in the search. Now she was one of only two detectives in a fifty mile radius. She couldn't trek miles into the woods while she was on duty, no matter how badly she wanted to. All she could do was wait for a call from Walter, whose satellite phone never lost signal.
She did stay at the trailhead long enough to see the teams off and secure Andrew's truck for later processing. It was unnerving how quickly the fog swallowed up the crew, how much it muffled their calls to the men before blocking it entirely. Not even the low hum of the food truck generator was enough to brush off the eerie feeling that once again reigned now that she was alone.
Time to head back down before her nerves really did get the best of her.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Prowl was never one to openly complain when he didn't like orders unless they went completely against tactical advantage, but he was nearing the end of his rope.
Sure, he had the patience and experience to wait exceedingly long periods, even in Cybertronian terms, but living on a tiny island where the government wanted him to stay underground while transformed and being trapped on said island with the Terror Twins was quickly wearing on every circuit in his body. Especially now with the recent departures of both Ratchet and Ironhide robbing the two of their usual prank victims. If he had to online to one more human cartoon, he was going to lock the two in the brig and destroy the key.
His engine revved as he stepped out of the hanger and into the bright sun, easily adjusting his optics to the harsh glare that would have otherwise white-out his vision. Human wishes be-slagged, he was not their pet and he would not be locked up like one.
Deciding on an aimless walk in the ocean air, Prowl flipped through the police scanners, simultaneously listening to multiple streams while loading the reports of the day. He may be stuck on an island in the middle of the ocean, but he could and would still monitor the outside world. The results proved that crime had remained much as it had the day before and the days before that. Except in the US, where another spike in missing person reports stood higher than average. It was small, would pass unnoticed by most humans, but it was a growing trend. The more noticeable aspect was the number of those cases closed. Regardless of outcome, it was far fewer than the previous several years' averages. Either the human law enforcement was becoming more incompetent or whoever was responsible was very good at hiding their victims. He suspected a little of both.
Chatter between the FBI and Interpol indicated that that aspect had been noticed by them as well. They blamed a rise in human trafficking. Prowl knew it would take an extremely large organization to cover the ground that was affected by the new trends and couldn't help but find it statistically improbable. Would so many humans be involved in such a thing that subjugated and injured their own kind?
Well, that was a pointless question. Human history was rife with terror and torment inflicted upon each other.
Then again, so was Cybertronian history. One needed to look no further than Shockwave and the experiments he performed on captured Autobots.
But Shockwave and the other Decepticons were lying low. Only coming out in singles or pairs for what the humans referred to as a 'smash and grab'. Clearly they were not looking for a fight and as of yet, Prowl had been unable to piece together what they were doing with the items they had stolen. So he had to content himself with solving the crimes of humanity, starting with the one that had many of the top officials scratching their heads.
Only he couldn't do that very well stuck on this Primus-forsaken hunk of sand they expected him to call home.
Striding across the blacktop to the shoreline, he looked out at the sun setting over the sparkling water.Waterwas such a unique thing. While common enough throughout the universe, no place else had it in open oceans like this. The amount and size of the life it supported was mystifying. He could appreciate it in a way, even if it did result in him being reliant on the humans to get over it. Earth was no Cybertron, but it wasn'tallbad. Off of the island anyway.
NEST bases were being constructed across the globe. Autobots had been deployed to each to assist in the construction and yet here he stood, an ornament waiting for them to find a use for him. The least they could do was allow him onto the mainland to assist law enforcement.
The doors on his back twitched as yet another homicide report came in. They weren't even at war and they were still killing each other. Humans could be such a destructive race. At their current rate, they would wipe themselves out in a few thousand years.
Letting out an irritated vent, Prowl blasted sand out of his systems. Logic dictated that the humans weren't worth protecting while they continued to slaughter each other, but Prime thought otherwise. There were a few the tactician could tolerate well enough that he would be .....disheartened to see offlined. Namely those who fought to uphold some semblance of order in the chaotic cities.
A tinkering in his gears made him vent again, shooting a little red crab out from its hiding place. Oh yes, he really hated this island.
Chapter 3: Jigsaw
Chapter Text
It is well for the heart to be naive and the mind not to be. ~Anatole France
December 31, 4:03 am
"Blake," Darcy answered roughly, her voice thick with sleep. Her comforter dropped to her waist as she sat up; no use in staying comfortable, a call this early meant she was up for the day.
"It's Walter; we found one of your boys, he's being evac-ed to the hospital." It took a moment for his words to process and when they did they hit her like a train. They'd found one and he was alive. Finally.
"Detective," there was a weight to his voice that was her neon warning sign of what was coming next. "He's in rough shape."
Coming from a man who'd been doing Search and Rescue for over twenty years, 'rough shape' would probably be putting it mildly. Walter was not a man who gave that descriptor lightly. Almost tripping on the sheets tangled around her legs, Darcy kicked them off with a huff before finding her pants and tugging them on. "Which one is he?"
"I don't know." That meant that calling his condition rough was like calling a tornado a breezy afternoon. "He was unconscious when we found him and stayed out all the way down. We're heavily searching where we found him but so far there's been no sign of the other two."
"Roger that, keep me posted." Stuffing the phone in her pocket, Darcy hurriedly finished throwing on clothes, pulling her badge around her neck as she ducked out the door.
By some miracle she hit the hospital parking lot less than a second ahead of the ambulance.
The wounded man gasped as the stretcher brought him down, eyes wild and unseeing. His face was torn and unrecognizable, his clothes so soaked in blood their original color could not be guessed. A shredded hand reached out, latching onto Darcy's jacket. Strips of his inner arm showed twisting black lines under the blood. A medical alert tattoo.
"Andrew, can you hear me? What happened?" The man's eyes latched onto hers, so clouded in fear she doubted he was actually seeing her.
"Must….must…." his voice ragged and gurgling as he choked on his own blood. A coughing fit splattered them all. He was starting to hyperventilate, his grip strength pulsing back and forth. "Must….monst…."
He collapsed back on the gourney, eyes rolling back into his head, hand falling limp from her jacket.
"B.P.'s falling!" one of the nurses shouted, stepping between Darcy and the wounded man as the gurney passed through the emergency room doors and passed from sight.
Must monst? What the hell could that mean? Must save his friends from a monster? Those injuries didn't look like anything she'd ever seen from a predator attack, but what could have caused them? She didn't think Jake or Brian would be capable of doing such a thing to their friend, but their absence was either suspicious or cause for worry. They could be in similar condition out there, or they could be running from what they did.
The detective sighed, bringing a hand up to rub her temples, pausing the instant a flash of red caught her eye. Her hands were covered in Andrew's blood, as was her jacket. Her stomach rolled as she turned for the bathroom. Her town wasn't a single-stoplight kind of little, but it was small enough that violent crime was fairly rare. Hell, the only reason she'd made detective two years ago was so the department would be prepared for John to retire. There were more hunting accidents here than homicides. Andrew was the worst condition she'd ever seen a person in, and she'd seen what a rabid bear could do to a body.
Tearing off her jacket, she stuffed it into one of the sinks, blasting the cold water. The mirror revealed her tired visage, speckled with blood. Scrubbing her hands, she turned to her face once the water ran clear. It was a solid quarter of an hour before she was left resigned to the fact her jacket was as good as it was going to get.
Stepping out of the bathroom with her jacket rumpled into an empty garbage bag in her hand, she caught a nurse exiting the emergency room. "Is there a status on Andrew Wane?"
The nurse glanced down at the badge still hanging from its chain around her neck. "He's in critical condition; the doctors rushed him to surgery."
Darcy nodded, sighing as she returned to the lobby, tossing the soiled jacket in an empty chair. There were phone calls to be made and hours to wait.
Andrew's mother and Amy arrived twenty minutes later, shortly followed by Jake and Brian's wives who must have been alerted by the former. Darcy hated having no news for them and sat away from the group as they cried and held onto each other.
She itched to move, to be doingsomething. There was nothing for her to do though. Search and Rescue was looking for the two remaining men and her only lead was in surgery. So she sat, feeling the dread return as a surgeon stepped out to the lobby only an hour later.
"Here for Mr. Wane?" The cluster of women stood hopefully, Darcy following slower, hanging back. She knew that look. The surgeon looked at the women in sympathy. "I'm sorry, we did everything we could."
There was little else he could say as mother and wife burst into open sobs, joined by the other ladies as they felt their hope for their own husbands slipping away.
Pulling in a steadying breath, Darcy shifted back into business. She owed it to them to get answers. The surgeon followed her several steps away from the grieving women, but still she kept her voice low. "What happened to him, doc?"
He sighed, glancing at the charts in his hand. "Honestly, I was hoping you could tell me. Thirty-four broken bones, a punctured lung, thirteen lacerations, and some kind of burn on 27% of his body."
An animal didn't do damage like that, even ignoring the burns. Had he fallen into a campfire or something after taking a severe beating?
"Fire burns?" She looked at the page he offered her, indicating the location and type of each injury they had catalogued.
He shook his head, bafflement crossing his features. "Chemical, couldn't tell you what kind, but something that gives new meaning to 'corrosive'."
Chemical burns? In the middle of the National Forest? What the hell was going on out there?
With the chemical being so damaging, it was most likely one of the many that were tracked and regulated. This could finally be the breakthrough she needed. "I'll need a sample sent to the forensics lab in Pocatello."
The downside of being in a small town, they had no real forensics lab of their own. At least Pocatello wasn't too far, they could send a rookie to run it down when it was ready. The surgeon nodded. "Dr. Conners is already on it."
The resident M.E. was nothing if not on top of his work.
"Thank you, Doctor."
"Detective," he grimaced. "Whoever did this used a lot of force; find them. I don't want another patient like that on my table."
"I hope you don't get another," Darcy agreed, wishing she could promise to bring down whoever was responsible before they did this to another victim. The problem was she still had no idea what the hell was going on.
Trafficking rings were more common than most people thought in the open expanses near the border, but they relied on their victims beingalive. Unless Andrew was one who got away. Though rare, she'd heard of rings who sold murder like others sold sex. It was possible Andrew had been presumed dead prematurely and he was able to crawl his way back towards the trail. The detective shook her head as she left the hospital, shivering in the cold with her jacket still soaked in the bag. Hiking trails made no sense for a hunting ground for a ring. Even the popular trails were too unpredictable for when people might be on them. They had to be victims of opportunity. She doubted a drug grow, the area people had vanished from was just too large.
Sowhatwas it?
She stewed it over as she drove back to the station and had nothing to show for it as she pulled into the lot. Sighing heavily and squaring her shoulders, she stepped out into the sharp cold. It was time for a conversation that would not be enjoyable in any way, but there was no point in delaying it any longer. People were going to keep getting hurt, people were going to keepdyingunless something drastic was done.
"Chief?" She knocked on his open door, not entering his office until he waved her in while he finished his phone call. Despite the small size of the department, she really didn't have much personal experience with the man. It was an elected position in this town and despite him having once walked the beat himself, she couldn't help but worry he'd forgotten it and let himself slip more into the politician role. Especially since it was an election year.
"What do you need, Detective?" he asked, eyes tracking down to the various stacks of papers on his desk. He picked up a pen, mindlessly filling in one of the forms. .
"We found Andrew Wane beat to hell on the trail, his friends are still missing," she started as she approached his desk, taking the offered seat.
"So I heard, how is he?"
"He died on the table," she paused to chew her bottom lip, this was the hard part. "Sir, I think at this point we have no choice but to close the National Forest to the public. Issue a statement to the press."
The pen dropped from his fingers, hands steepling together on top of the pages as he finally turned his full and complete attention on his youngest detective. "What kind of statement are you talking about, Blake?"
His tone was a warning for her to tread and speak carefully. No one wanted to cause unnecessary panic, but they couldn't continue on pretending everything was fine. "No details, just an incident on the hiking trails that's prompted a preemptive closure until it can be dealt with. We've got to keep people out of the woods."
"And what proof do you have that a closure is necessary? What happened to Mr. Wane is unfortunate, but not unheard of. I know violent crime is limited in small towns, but it is hardly the first time I have seen best friends kill each other for some reason or another." He leaned back in his chair and Darcy saw her chances of getting through to him shrinking by the second.
"I don't believe what happened to Andrew was caused by his friends. I think they're in trouble too. Chief, thirty-two people have gone missing in the last eight months. Thirty-two that we haven't found. Andrew is the first and his condition isn't promising to the chances of the others." She tried to keep her voice even and steady, just relay the facts, don't let emotion get into it or he'd accuse her of chasing ghosts.
The chief sighed, "Blake, hikers go missing every day and if they wander off trail it isn't likely Search and Rescue will find them. Hardly a reason to close public land."
"People aren't just gettinglost, they're dropping off the face of the planet! The Rangers and Search and Rescue agree they've never had so many missing in so small a period. We average sixteen lost hikers a year, Chief, and most of those are found in either condition within a month. We've had double that in almost half the time and found only one. Andrew was covered in chemical burns as well. Someone or some group is abducting hikers and torturing them. We have got to keep the public out until we figure out what is going on." Her confidence slipped as her frustration grew as the Chief remained sitting with a straight and almost sympathetic expression on his face. Why could he not see what she was saying?
"Hardly an indication that the cases are connected. It's been a colder year, more hikers are flocking here; more people in the woods to get lost in early snowpacks. You and I both know most everyone who disappears in winter gets found during the spring thaw." He really wasn't getting it. He really didn't see that this wasn't just people getting lost. Her instincts screamed that it wasn't that simple, that people were going to continue getting hurt and vanishing until the culprit was caught or the mountains were closed.
And he wasn't about to help her with either.
"Theyareconnected, Chief. All of the M.O.'s have been the same. One group or person is responsible for all of this, I know it. We have to close the forest." Her last ditch, but she could already see the pity in his eyes and knew he was going to deny her.
"Look, detective," he leaned forward in his seat, "you're young. You've got a rise in missing persons cases and you want a big case that wraps it all up nice and neat. It doesn't work that way. Sometimes we get those cases we just have to let go. There is no need to cause panic or economic disruption by shutting down the forest."
She barely knew him personally, but she'd expected better; she'd expected him to at least have a little faith in his officers. "I know the difference between looking for a big case and having one. Somethingisgoing on up there and people are dying because of it!"
He cut her off before she could continue, his voice gaining a sharp edge. "People disappear in the mountains all the time, especially in winter."
"Not twenty people in two months!" Slamming her hands on his desk, she stood, her incredulous fury as his blatant dismissal of her assessment temporarily winning out over the respect for his role as her boss. "We just need to keep the people out of the woods, get more resources…"
"Detective!" he barked hard and she knew she had come very close to crossing a line. "I've heard enough! It's been a bad winter; people are losing themselves in the snow. You've had your search teams for the allotted times, accept that you can't find everyone and work on the cases you can solve. I will not have snipe hunts."
"But Chief…"
"Not another word about it, Detective."
One last ditch effort. "If I could just call other departments, compare their numbers to ours…"
"Contacting other departments gets leaked to the press and causes panic. You are a detective, not a conspiracy theorist. You will work your cases by the book and keep those ridiculous theories to yourself or you may just find yourself writing speeding tickets for the foreseeable future. Do I make myself clear?"
The urge to argue was almost overwhelming; she wanted to tell him he was an idiot for ignoring the obvious, but the hard set of his eyes told her his threat had been serious. Clenching her jaw, she gave a single nod. "Crystal, Sir."
Turning on her heel, she left his office, her temper barely held under the surface. People were going to keep dying under his orders, of that she had no doubt.
Dropping into her chair with an aggravated huff, Darcy was at a loss for what to do. She'd been denied the most basic requests to get the numbers down and he hadn't wanted to hear a word of contacting other departments. It didn't make sense to just continue as she had been, hoping for a new lead. Andrew was supposed to be that lead and it'd taken eight months. There was no way she could just sit around chasing ghosts of people already vanished.
John looked up at her from his desk, masking any signs of pity with a look of understanding. "Look Darcy, I know you want to find these people, I do too, but you can't take them all personally. It'll eat you up if you invest too much of yourself into them. This job is hard enough, you don't need that biting you in the ass."
Darcy threw an accusing glare his way. "Are you suggesting I should stop caring?"
"I'm not saying that and you know it," he snapped back, reminding her of who she was talking to. John hadtrainedher, in some ways, he knew her better than she knew herself.
Blowing out a breath, she dropped her head into her hands, shoulders slumping. "I'm sorry John. It's just….those people are counting on me to find them and every lead has been a dead end. Iknowsomething is going on up there that we need to stop; I know people will keep disappearing until we do, but damn it all, I don't know how to do it!"
More than anything she wanted him to just tell her what she needed to do, but that was impossible. He was as confounded by it as she was and he'd been at this job for a lifetime. John was quiet for a moment as he carefully regarded her, only speaking once she looked up at him. "Your problem is that you have no actual evidence that proves something is happening out there, other than a string of missing people in an area prone to people disappearing and one deceased victim that took your biggest clue with him."
"Isn't that evidence enough?" She pulled herself from her drooped position to rest her arms on her desk. "I can't find anything else out there without more manpower, but no one seems to believe me. You do, don't you?"
If he didn't, if he doubted her theories as strongly as the Chief did, then maybe this wasn't the job for her after all. If he said she was wrong, she just might believe him, and then she'd never be able to trust her own instincts.
He didn't say anything for several moments before answering with a question of his own. "What does your gut tell you?"
She didn't hesitate. "That something far bigger than we've ever dealt with is going on in those mountains."
He nodded once. "Always follow your gut."
Prowl was a fan of procedures. He liked them and he liked them followed to the letter. When they made sense, at least.Thisprocedure was ridiculous, useless, and wasted his precious time. All Prowl wanted to do was leave the island for the mainland to look into the rise in human crime rates in the United States. All he needed was Prime's approval and a ride off. He had the former, it was securing the latter, which requiredhumanapproval, that was becoming a difficulty. They demanded he go through their chain-of-command and for that he had to provide viable evidence and reason to warrant flying him across the oceans. It had to be 'cost effective', they said. He rumbled to himself as he marched out of the Command Center. Not only was the paperwork involved tedious and useless (and decidedlynotcost effective), but it also delayed everything for unreasonable lengths of time.
He concluded that the only reason the humans hadn't started World War III yet was because the idea was tied up in all the bureaucratic red tape. Did they really not realize that while the Decepticons were not actively showing themselves, the war was not over? And in war soldiers and commanders had to be prepared to act at a moment's notice, not sit down and fill out the proper paperwork before taking any sort of action.
Prowl continued to rev his engine irritably. Optimus had given him the go-ahead as long as NEST officials cleared it, but the commanders had refused his request, claiming there wasn't enough evidence to support a need for Autobot backup for a problem humans had been dealing with for 'far longer than he'd been on Earth'. It wasn't worth the fuel, they said, not when Ironhide had been stationed at the Hoover Dam to assist in converting it into a base.
Ironhide was no tactician or enforcer. His specialty was inweapons, decidedly not criminal investigations. No, unless a Decepticon came charging in, Ironhide was of little use to human law enforcement, and in extent, to Prowl at the time being.
So he was stuck on this wretched island until the human commanders deemed it necessary for Autobot intervention, in which it would already be too late to do much good.
Sometimes he disliked being right all the time.
Blue optics glanced skyward as a plane blasted overhead towards the runway. Yet another reason he had been denied leave, the incoming Galloway could have nothing to cite as unwarranted wastes of money.
Prowl revved to himself. They refused him a ride off because loss of human life didn't necessitate the funds to fly him out and yet the prick politician came in on a whim in a jet that cost more than it would for the C-17 to shuttle him off and return. It truly was a wonder the human governments ever accomplished anything.
It showed up on every law enforcement frequency and headline in the world; Interpol, with the assistance of the United States FBI and CIA, had discovered and raided an international human trafficking ring. Eighty-seven people were arrested in simultaneous hits on eighteen locations around the western hemisphere. Over three hundred victims were rescued; starving, dehydrated, and more than a little worse-for-wear, but alive. According to the survivors, a combined one hundred-seventeen were not so lucky, their bodies in shallow graves only a few miles from the main holding compounds. All of those people would be on their way homes soon as well, to bring closure to grieving families.
Darcy flipped through the report that had been sent to every department in the countries involved, looking through the painfully long list of names of those found, rescued, and arrested, searching for one she recognized.
There were none. Not a single one.
Sighing, she scrolled back to the top of the page and started going through the list a third time, hoping that maybe she was just...missing them. Or one, a single one so she could have news for one family.
Interpol claimed they'd gotten the whole operation, that every victim had been identified. If that was true, then how was it possible that notoneof her missing was on that list?
"Any luck?" John asked as he passed to sit at his desk, a hot coffee in hand.
Irritated, she harshly slammed on the mouse to exit out of the report. "None whatsoever."
He frowned. "That can't be right. Three hundred and twenty-six identified and not one is yours? You sure you checked every name?"
"Twice and once more for good measure. I even checked the eighty-seven perps, not one of mine turned up."
The frown fell away to a shrug. "Could be all yours were in a sub-ring, or different group all together."
He was trying to be helpful, but it wasn't doing anything for her morale. "Interpol claims they got the whole thing."
"Interpol claims a lot of things these days." He had a point there, but it wasn't enough.
"Rings don't compete with each other, they work together to keep business booming. If it's a ring, it's one that's managed to stay off the grid, which means they aren't actively trading." Her lips pursed as her brows furrowed. "What if it's not a trafficking ring?"
John raised a brow in turn. "Go on."
"Andrew had chemical burns on him, so what if these people are being taken by some in-house terrorist group that's experimenting with chemical weapons?" Alright, that one sounded more reasonable in her head than it did outloud, but she was grasping at straws at this point.
"This is Idaho, Blake, not New York."
"I know," she groaned, dropping her head into her hands again. The sheer lack ofanythingconcrete was destroying every fiber of patience she had left. "I needhelp. More resources to search the mountains or something, anything."
"You know the rules, Darce. Contacting outside sources requires Chief's sign off and he's not about to give it to you without some real evidence to back your theories." He was her voice of reason in all of this, but she wasn't sure how much longer even John could talk her down.
"I know, I know." Following the book was getting her nowhere though, but she was a good cop, damn it. She knew the rules, she knew the right way to do this.
But she was a good cop nearing the end of her proverbial rope.
Chapter 4: Bending the Rules
Chapter Text
Things are not always what they seem; the first appearance deceives many; the intelligence of a few perceives what has been carefully hidden. ~Phaedrus
Five days the search crews continued to scour the mountains for a trace of the other two men. Finding Andrew had invigorated them, but that determination and vigor wore down as day after day passed without a hair. Each day the two men's wives would call the detective and ask for news and each day she had to let them down.
Darcy had hoped perhaps deciphering Andrew's last words would give her some clue to a new lead, but 'must' and 'monst' weren't giving her a thing. Must do what, save the other two men? She would in a heartbeat if only she knew where to look for them. And what was a monst? A monster? That didn't tell her anything either; except maybe he meant some animal. Except this was Andrew, he had encounter stories for every species in the north, he wouldn't call them monsters. A human responsible for his injuries would certainly be a monster, but why take the energy to say something other than a name, or gender, or looks? So what then? An animal uncommon or unknown about? The hell could that be, Bigfoot?
She snorted at her own thoughts. This was a real crime in the real world, this wasn't a bad sci-fi flick.
Head pounding as she tried and failed to understand what must and monst were possibly supposed to mean and why they would be important enough to be a man's last words, Darcy sighed. It was entirely probable that Andrew had been so out of his mind from morphine or blood loss or panic that the words were gibberish and meant absolutely nothing. Her best lead could be a goose chase.
It was January 17th that broke the proverbial camel's back.
"Blake, head down to the Ranger Station on Tronson, they've got a case for you," the chief greeted her as he strolled past her desk. She bit her lip, barely holding back the temptation to say 'I told you so' if it was another person missing from a trip to the woods.
Pushing away from her desk in bitter silence, she headed out to the station as the dark and dreary clouds belayed the midday time. Maybe, just maybe, the rangers' case was involved with one of hers; perhaps they'd found one of her victims, or a clue about who took them or where. It was enough to give her a small flash of hope.
The atmosphere of the ranger station when she walked in was enough to dash that hope before anyone spoke a word. Whatever they had for her was not about to make her job easier.
"Detective Blake?" A middle aged man stepped through the handful of rangers. "Kallen Goodman, let's talk in my office."
Leading her through the somber little crowd, he let out a burdened sigh the second his door was closed behind them.
"What do you have for me, Ranger Goodman?" she asked as gently as possible.
Instead of answering right away, he moved to his desk, grabbing a small file folder and handing it over to her.
"One of my rangers missed his check-in. Tom Felton." Flipping the file open revealed the photograph of a cheerful young man that made her heart sink to the deepest recesses of her gut. "He went up to investigate a bad smell some hikers have been reporting. He was only supposed to be up there for a week, it's been two."
Darcy raised her brows in surprise. "He's been missing a full week?"
Goodman nodded and her heart dropped to her toes. "At first we didn't think much of it. Tom's always been the sort to stay out an extra day or two. But after four days we realized something was wrong. We tried raising him on the radio and everyone has spent the last three days looking for him. When we couldn't find him last night I knew I had to call you."
The detective digested the new information as she read the general details in his file, taking note of his assigned work truck. Another man was missing, the rangers had done the ground search, and the M.O. was exactly the same as the others. There was no doubt in her mind it was connected. "Did you find his vehicle?"
"Yeah, at the end of an abandoned logging road eight miles from where he was supposed to head out from. We didn't touch it."
She frowned as she made a quick note of it on the file. Either Tom had discovered something else...or his car had been moved. It would be a huge break in M.O. to move the personal vehicle and a possible break in the case. "Did he report in the source of the smell before he disappeared?"
Kallen shook his head. "No, and I haven't sent anyone else after it. The cold is dampening it anyways and it was probably an animal carcass; those things stink to high heaven, especially if the animal was sick. It's what these kinds of reports always turn out to be."
"Where exactly was this smell located?" It was probably coincidence. Most likely Tom found the smelly body of a moose or elk just as he expected before getting his attention caught by something that drew him away from his starting point and into trouble. But she was a detective, she wasn't allowed to believe in coincidence. Perhaps the source of this bad smell was related.
The head ranger could only shrug. "Hard to tell, we had reports of it on several trails surrounding this area."
He grabbed a red pen, circling a section of land on the map in Tom's file. It covered several hundred acres of land, most of it inaccessible to vehicles.
Darcy spent the next two hours going over every detail she could think of to glean as much information as she could. Rangers were almost as good at cops at picking up on the little stuff, and they noticed far more out in the woods than the average person.
"Detective." Goodman stopped her as she moved to leave, a plea in his voice, "Find our boy."
The rangers were a brotherhood, a loss hurt them all. Darcy wouldn't make a promise that she couldn't keep, but she couldn't give him nothing either.
"I'll do my best." It was all she could guarantee and she hated it. She wanted to be able to swear she would find him, catch whoever was responsible and end it once and for all, but she couldn't. She couldn't swear it and she couldn'tdoit, not alone.
It was time for reinforcements.
Ivan knew those last few shots were a bad idea when they came out on the tray carried by the cute waitress; he knew they would come back to bite him and yet he had tossed them back anyway. The consequence of such a decision was currently beating away at his skull and causing the noonday sun to pierce his eyes like a thousand sharp needles. And instead of sleeping away this hangover like he so desperately wanted to, he was out on the road, dragging himself back home. Back home to the aunt that would be waiting for him. The thought alone was almost enough to make him turn the car around, but keeping her waiting would only prolong and enhance her wrath. Only silver lining here was that his uncle was deployed still, which meant he'd get a hell of a tongue lashing but would miss an ass-whooping in the form of torturous hours of manual labor on the farm.
He swore he would never drink again, just like he had last time...and the time before that. Well, this time he was going to stick to it. No more drinking, no more crazy parties. Never again…...so long as Angie wasn't going to be there, she was too hot to miss a chance at her.
Red and blue lit up his rearview mirror. Cursing, he pulled over, hoping the cop would continue on his way. No luck. The cruiser pulled in right behind him, lights and siren still going obnoxiously. Ivan couldn't believe his luck today. Coming home hours late with a hangover was one thing, getting a ticket or having to be picked up from jail was an entirely different and much worse thing. Aunt Marie was going to kill him.
It seemed to take a millennium for the cop to get out of his car, but when he finally did walk up to his window, what he said was not what Ivan had been expecting. "Ivan Burke? I need you to come with me; it's about your uncle."
In an instant the pounding headache was no longer the center of his focus. "What?"
"Please come with me, I will explain on the way." Ivan didn't hesitate, ripping off the seat belt and shoving himself out of his Dodge Neon to follow the officer to his cruiser. His thoughts filled with dread as a hundred terrible scenarios ran rampant through his mind. What happened to his uncle? He knew the military was dangerous, especially since his uncle joined an elite unit, but what happened that would warrant an officer tracking down and picking up his nephew?
Ivan hardly blinked as he climbed into the passenger side of the cruiser as the cop's direction, noting in passing the lack of rear doors. Was someone else picking up Aunt Marie? Oh lord, she was going to be a wreck. He cursed himself again for going out last night. He should have stayed home; she would need him there when the officer knocked on her door.
The vents of the idling cruiser sputtered as the door clicked shut. Ivan ignored them as he waited impatiently for the officer to return to the driver's seat and take him to his uncle. The cop climbed back in the car, locks latching down. He made no move to put the car in gear, didn't even twitch as the vents sputtered again, blasting to full force.
Smoke poured in, thick and white and effectively snapping Ivan into a totally different concern.
"Hey!" He reached over to grab the cop, eyes widening as his hand passed right through him. The man disappeared completely a second later, the smoke getting thicker. Ivan turned to pound on the window, the doors stuck tight as he began to cough and choke on the toxic air. It filled his lungs, made the world spin and his stomach roll. All his strength couldn't budge the window or the doors or even the gear shift to get the car moving. Throat burning, he tried to yell again as the energy in his bones zapped away. Hand falling limp against the glass, he fought to keep the creeping darkness at bay. His fight was in vain and his body slumped into the seat.
As the man stopped moving, the vents reversed flow and expelled the gas. Rolling forward, the cruiser nudged the empty Neon off the side of the road and into the ditch ten feet below.
The Police Interceptor blared its sirens and revved its engine as it blasted down the highway, the driver unconcerned, one hand barely on the wheel. Civilians pulled over to allow the speeding car to pass and those too slow where bumped and shoved out of the way.
The Mustang continued on, almost oblivious to every metal obstacle it rammed through and the trail of dents, broken glass, and totaled cars in its wake. The gleaming muscle car remained unscathed.
A helicopter screamed overhead as it followed the rampaging police car, the news crew hardly believing what they were seeing as they filmed and broadcast it live. An officer finally snapped or a stolen cruise? It was a headline the reporters were going with, since no one could yet track who the car belonged to or get an image of who was driving.
State Patrol quickly filed in behind, but their engines were no match for the Mustang, who left them in the dust to clean up the smoking mess it left behind.
Roadblocks were set up and spikes laid out several miles ahead. The Mustang had nowhere else to go; this crazy driving spree was about to be over and the news crew in the helicopter would be the first to get the story. The bird flew ahead of the Mustang, hanging over the road block and waiting for the inevitable conclusion.
Speeding muscle didn't slow or veer from course, as if the driver didn't see the spikes and police cars barring the way, or didn't care. The cameraman in the air wondered if he was about to witness a suicide by cop via car crash and pondered the possibility of an award for such footage, or a promotion.
Seconds ticked by as the speeding police car barreled towards the spikes, engine roaring as it gained speed. Less than a mile now, less than a minute and it would be over.
Still the car refused to slow and the cops at the block quickly vacated the blacktop for the safety of the surrounding trees. There was no telling where a runaway Mustang would flip and end up. Better safe behind a thousand-year old tree than a relatively light-weight vehicle.
Quarter of a mile and the Mustang screamed on, the driver still unfazed by the spikes directly ahead, ready to shred his tires. He made no attempts to slow or get around them. Instead the engine revved again and the car impossibly increased its speed, going faster than even a suped up interceptor had a right to.
It was over in less time that it took to blink.
The Mustang hit the spikes, flung them into the air and continued undeterred through the barricade, smashing cars out of its way, tossing them like a child's toy into the trees and lifting one completely off the ground as it was struck broadside. By the time the air-borne cruiser hit the ground and stopped rolling, the muscle car was down the road and nearly out of sight.
The news helicopter tried to keep up with the action, caught stunned by the unbelievable turn of events and struggling to gain ground on their quarry. With the roar of mighty horses, the muscle car left the bird behind and vanished.
Prowl rumbled to himself as he watched the news footage for a second time, this time in the presence of both Prime and NEST officials on a video line. Here was the proof they had wanted and hehadtold them so. It was a miracle no one was killed, but sixteen people were in the hospital and it all could have been prevented if they had just listened to him.
"You're sure this is a Decepticon?" one of the NEST commanders Prowl hadn't cared to learn the name of questioned.
The tactician had to try very hard to remain respectful like Optimus ordered, but honestly, these humans were idiots. "It is Barricade. Nohumancar is immune to spikes and can breach two hundred-thirty miles per hour."
General Morshower-one of the few capable of sense and the only one of NEST command that Prowl didn't completely despise-broke in before the others could. "If Prowl says he's a 'Con, then I'm inclined to believe him. Ironhide is only a few states away; if Optimus Prime agrees, I'll send word to put him in pursuit."
Prowl snorted but stayed silent as Optimus broke in. "While Ironhide is a formidable warrior, Barricade possesses a speed he does not. I believe it would be best to send another that can match that speed."
The NEST commanders and liaisons muttered briefly to each other before one asked, "You're suggesting we send Sideswipe and Sunstreaker instead? Neither has shown much consideration for our laws."
Prowl was getting increasingly tempted to partake in the human habit of rolling his optics as Optimus shook his head.
"Sideswipe and Sunstreaker will learn," he strongly doubted that, "but they have just arrived at their new post in Italy…"
"Bumblebee then," another interrupted and Prowl's doors flexed in irritation at the blatant disrespect towards Prime.
"Bumblebee has his commitment to Sam."
Yet another jumped in before Optimus could present his option. "Then who do you suggest we send to deal with this if all of your fast Autobots arebusy?"
Prowl scrutinized the screen, recognizing the one who spoke as one often seen in the presence of Galloway. Really now, the answer was literally right in front of them and if they hadn't found it necessary to interject every other word, Prowl could have been on a plane already.
"Prowl is best suited to handle Barricade, he knows his tricks and has dealt with him in the past. His alternative mode may also help rectify some of the damage Barricade has done."
"Or worsen it." Prowl couldn't stop his engine from revving a bit as he recognizedthatvoice. Theodore Galloway had arrived and was making his way onto the catwalk between the Autobots and the video screens. "And if he's dealt with the Decepticon in the past, why is he still alive then? Surely a tactician could outsmart a scout."
Prowl's engine snarled before Optimus placed a hand on his shoulder.
"And how do we know this is an unprovoked attack?" the politician continued, his hand gesturing towards the black and white. "He's the one who was begging to leave Diego Garcia. I say the timing is just a little too good."
It was only Prime's presence that kept Prowl from stepping forward and showing them all exactly what he thought about that particular insinuation.
"None of my Autobots would purposefully endanger human lives or encourage Decepticon destruction for any reason," Optimus' voice was hard, a clear warning that that kind of accusation would not be tolerated.
"That's enough, Galloway," Morshower cut in before the liaison to the White House could continue. "I'll authorize a small operation. Prowl, you fly out A.S.A.P.. Ironhide will be sent to meet you en route once you land. I want this quick and quiet."
The feed cut before Galloway could say anything else against the Autobots and the group dispersed. Prowl got his direct orders from Prime-he may respect Morshower but he was not about to subject himself to the human's rule-and headed out to the runway.
Twenty minutes later the C-17 was ready and Prowl rolled up the ramp, parking smack center of the cargo bay to perfectly distribute his weight over the wings. While flying itself did not bother him, the thought of being trapped in the large contraption being flown byhumans, a naturally grounded species, made him impatient for the trip to be over. Like every time he was forced to fly, he hacked the plane's systems and settled into a light recharge as the plane took off, part of his processor monitoring the system data and ready to alert the rest of him of any anomalies.
It was a small blessing nothing substantial came up during the flight and the moment the ramp was lowered and his tires hit the pavement, he was off. The landing strip was only six miles from the failed blockade. Blaring his sirens, he was pleased by how quickly the humans scrambled to get out of his way. Probably due more to a fear of a Mustang repeat than respect for the red and blue lights, but that mattered little currently. It took less than half an hour to catch up to Ironhide and the NEST soldiers. Neither were moving particularly fast, though Prowl knew even the weapons specialist could leave the Earth vehicles in the dust. Why the humans insisted on coming and why Prime allowed it was illogical, but if there was one thing he'd learned was consistent on this rock, it was that humans rarely followed logic.
No matter how shielded Barricade may currently be, a Cybertronian always left a temporary trail, it was just up to those with the right sensors to find and follow it. Prowl had such sensors. Not as powerful as Hound's, but he was acquainted with Barricade's signal enough to know exactly what to look for.
But even to his sensors the trail was fading fast. At this pace they would lose it in a few miles.
"Prime's orders to stay with the humans,"Ironhide responded over the comm. link when the tactician told him as much.
"Then stay with the humans."He revved and blasted down the highway, leaving the surprised humans and a resigned Ironhide behind.
Evidence of Barricade's passing was still scattered over the roadway. While most of the still-functioning cars had left, black skid marks, shattered glass, and totaled vehicles pointed the way he had gone. Soon even that damage became less until all that was left was the faintest remnant of his signal. Evidently the 'Con had started to become more deliberate in avoiding traffic, blending in to pass unnoticed. Moving as fast as he could, Prowl noted in distaste that the signal was fading faster than he could keep up with it. It was too old, it had taken too long to respond.
Fifty miles ahead of Ironhide, Prowl skid to a halt on the shoulder with a Cybertronian curse. The signal had faded beyond his ability to track. The Decepticon speedster had given him the slip and left no clues to his heading.
"Take the humans back to the base, he's gone."Cutting off the line, Prowl sent off a data burst of what happened to Prime. "Permission to stay behind to follow a lead?"
It didn't matter to him that the lead Prime may think he was following had to do with the Decepticon when it didn't. He wasn't about to divulge the information that could possibly get him anything less than the affirmative he needed. And if the humans had a problem with it, Prime would have plausible deniability to knowing what the tactician was up to.
"Granted."
With that taken care of, Prowl gunned back onto the road, skidding off of the next exit that would take him to the interstate. It was time to head north and start a little investigating of his own.
Darcy knew it would be a death sentence on her career. The second the case was closed-if she was that lucky-she'd be out of a job. But she refused to sit by any longer and wait for the Chief to pull his head out of his ass and see what was going on. Not if it meant more people were going to suffer.
Career be-damned, they needed help and she was going to be the one to make the call if no one else would. Not just to collaborate with other departments, no, she was calling in the big guns, she was going federal.
Glancing around the bullpen, she quickly looked up the number for the field office in the state, jotting it down on a post-it before grabbing her jacket; no way could she make this call from inside the building, she couldn't afford the chance of someone interfering.
It took less than ten minutes. All she had to give was a basic report of what was going on and the man on the other end assured her that an agent was en-route to provide assistance. Help was finally on the way.
Returning to her desk, it was a fight to keep her leg from impatiently bouncing as she eyed the windows, keeping a watch for a government-issued vehicle that didn't belong. There was no way the agent would get there so fast, but she couldn't help but check.
"Everything alright there, Blake?" John asked as he tossed some of his personal items haphazardly in a box. Retirement was just two days away and he was as ready for it as he was afraid of all the free time about to be on his hands.
"Everything's fine, just anxious to get a useful lead on this case." It wasn't a lie, just a vague truth.
"Don't worry, something will turn up. You'll be fine as long as you cool your heels and don't do anything rash." Stiffening slightly as she glanced out the window, she wondered if he would classify her move as 'rash'. John paused in packing his desk to look at her, eyes narrowing. He knew her just a little too well to get away with anything less than perfect control of her microexpressions. "What did you do?"
She bit her lower lip, eyes fixating on a paper in front of her without really seeing it. "I called someone, okay? Fresh eyes might find something I'm missing. A little help can't hurt."
He hardly relaxed, and by the look on his face she could tell he didn't really want the answer to the question he was going to ask anyway. "Darcy, what kind of help did you call?"
There was no way he was going to take silence as an answer, so she'd give him an honest one. "Federal."
"Damn it, Blake," he swore to himself, running a hand through his greying hair. "What did I say about cooling that hot head of yours? The chief is going to have your ass for this."
"You also said to follow my gut," she defended sharply. Now that it was done, she knew that it was the right thing to do, there wasn't a part of her that doubted it.
"Not when it goes directly against the chief's orders," he growled, pointing at her. "That was not your call to make."
She clenched her jaw; of all people, she thought John would be the one to back her choices. She really was on her own this time.
"It was my call, John, because no one else would make it." She knew it was petty, knew it was her temper talking and that she'd regret it later, but she opened her mouth and said it anyway. "Enjoy your retirement, I know the chief will miss his loyal dog."
Snatching her keys, she headed for the door. There were copies of the case files at home, she could work with the FBI agent there. Not the most standard practice but at least then she wouldn't have to wonder about loyalties.
Chapter 5: Not What We Expected
Notes:
Apologies for the delay! My research got a little nuts for a bit there and updating my fics slipped by mind. Whoops. Anyway, here's to the next installments, enjoy!
Chapter Text
Murder is unique in that it abolishes the party it injures, so that society must take the place of the victim, and on his behalf demand atonement or grant forgiveness. ~W.H. Auden
The cold evaporated Darcy's anger the moment she stepped out of the station. Guilt gnawed at her; she knew how much John hated lapdogs who blindly obeyed orders, how one had almost gotten him killed when he worked homicide in Chicago before coming out here. But her pride refused to let her go back in and apologize, not yet anyway. There was always tomorrow.
What there wasn't time for was to further allow the guilt to eat at her, as a black and white Dodge Charger pulling into the parking lot caught her attention. Leaning against the grill of her SUV, she watched the muscle car swung into the spot next to her and wondered what department it was from. POLICE was scrawled along the doors, but there was no town name under it and she didn't recognize the sigil on the side panel. Red and blocky, it somewhat resembled the face of a robot, or a cat. Whatever the logo was supposed to be of, she'd never seen it before and hadn't a clue who was driving until he stepped out. The man was undeniably bureau; crisp suit, clean shaven, serious expression, and a walk that was all business.
Despite the severity of his look, he was probably one of the most handsome men she'd ever seen in person; at least six foot and some change, short cropped brunette hair, chiseled jaw, very Karl Urban-esque, except for the piercing blue eyes that probably shouldn't even be possible.
"Detective Darcy Blake, I am Agent Peter Row, FBI," he offered no handshake, instead flashing his badge for just long enough for her to see the bureau stamp. "Shall we get started?"
"Actually, it's pretty crowded in there. If it's alright with you, we could work at my other office, I've got everything we could need and decent coffee." Home, other office, there really wasn't much of a difference these days and she couldn't find it within herself to care that she was being a coward and avoiding her old mentor this way.
"Lead the way," his tone was flat and he turned sharply on his heel to return to his car. Given the monotonous nature of his voice, she wondered if he perhaps missed the day regular emotions were handed out. Lightly shaking her head at herself, she decided she was not about to complain about getting an emotionless agent; she was already attached to these cases, perhaps less feeling was exactly what she needed.
The fact that the federal agent was driving a patrol car was odd, but that was a question for another time. Instead Darcy wondered if perhaps she should have offered him a ride. The muscle car would be great for speed no doubt, but there was no telling just how well it would handle on the icy roads to her house. It was too late now, though, he had already pulled out of the spot and sat waiting for her. Shrugging to herself, she fired up the SUV and led the way out, the Charger right behind.
Her worry was for naught, as the high-powered vehicle stayed right behind her, never lagging behind or skidding off track the whole way to her driveway. Throwing the SUV in park, she delayed getting out to listen to the weather forecast. Thick fog was inbound and supposed to stick around for the next several days, which was going to reduce visibility to almost zero; snow would be following it.
Silver lining, she mused, no hikers would dare tempt the mountains in fog.
Already she could see it blanketing the horizon, bringing with it freezing, stagnant air. It wouldn't be long before it was thick enough to cause another slew of accidents on the highways and backroads.
Darcy really didn't know what to say to the agent as they both climbed out of their vehicles and headed for the front door, so she settled with silence. It was almost awkward, especially when her old lock was frozen and she had to jimmy and shove to get it open; but Agent Row offered no conversation so the silence stayed until Darcy flipped on the lights and grabbed the box of files.
"This is everything I've got on all the connected cases, thirty-three people spanning nine months; same M.O.," she started as she dropped the box on the dining table that had never once operated for its intended purpose.
Agent Row nodded, still saying nothing as he took a seat and started pulling out files. A man of few words, alright, she could handle that.
"I'll get some coffee going." It was like talking to herself, all he granted her with was another acknowledging nod.
Moving towards the kitchen, she paused, distracted by the wall covered in a large map of the area, littered with colored pins that marked each of her missing victims. Sighing, she pulled open the drawer and grabbed another little red pin, adding it to the map and hoping it would be the last.
Glancing back towards the agent, she was surprised to see he was already separating the files into piles. Had he possibly discovered something already?
A cold draft made her shiver and brought her back to the task at hand. Coffee, the lifeblood of law enforcement. Getting the pot started, she started digging through her nearly bare cupboards,hoping the agent liked his caffeine black. There was no creamer, no sugar, and no milk apparently. When was the last time she'd gone grocery shopping anyway? She couldn't remember exactly.
"Impressive," Agent Row's voice came quite suddenly from behind her, making her jump and nearly drop the cups she was pulling down from the shelf. How had he gotten there so silently? No one had been able to sneak up on her like that in years!
He wasn't looking at her, he was focused on the decorated wall, taking in every pin and hand-scrawled details next to each.
"Um, thanks, that's the nice way of putting it." John had had no qualms about telling her the opposite, that she really needed to separate work and her personal life. There wasn't much of a personal life to separate from work anyway, so she had left it up.
"You have nothing on this pin," he stated, finger on the red dot she'd just added moments ago.
"That's Tom Felton's last known location. He's a ranger that's been missing at least a week, but I just got the case today. I haven't had the chance to go through all of his details yet." She still had to find his vehicle too, but that would have to wait until tomorrow, the sun was going down and the dark mixed with the incoming fog would make finding the right logging roads nearly impossible. If it had been sitting for a week, one more night wouldn't hurt whatever evidence might be there.
"Hmm." He continued to stare at the map, analyzing it as if he could scan every detail into his memory. Who knows, maybe he had that eidetic or photographic thing and could.
"Coffee?" Darcy offered after a long moment of silence, motioning to the pot that had sputtered out enough for a cup.
"No." Row turned and walked back to the dining table, diving back into the files he had yet to sort. Darcy blinked, unsure if she had actually heard him right. Did he really just refuse coffee? A law enforcement agent refused the black gold that was their fuel? How did he function without it? If this was a sci-fi movie, Darcy would swear he wasn't human.
But this was reality and as hard as it was to believe, apparently there really was a law enforcer who refused coffee. So Darcy poured the cup for herself and joined Row at the table, grabbing Tom's file. The two sat in silence, ruffling pages bringing about the only sound as the work absorbed them both.
Night rolled in, bringing with it the blinding fog and rapidly dropping temperatures, turning the roads into ice rinks and obscuring the view for any who attempted to see outside. The world outside quieted with every passing minute and one by one the people of the small town shut off their lights and went to bed. But like most nights, the lights in the house of Detective Blake stayed shining.
By the time the first jaw-cracking yawn hit Darcy, she had condensed the information in Tom's file to a single sticky-note of important cliff notes that she stuck up on the wall. A little white string tied to Tom's pin ran to the note on the side of the map to connect his information to the location. Row hadn't said a word the entire time except to decline coffee again when Darcy went for her second cup. Instead he sorted, stacked, and resorted the files again as he worked through whatever theories he could come up with.
When two yawns cracked her jaw within five minutes of each other and she moved for her third cup of fuel, Darcy was shocked to see the little clock on the microwave reading three a.m.. Had time really passed that quickly? She glanced back to Row to see if the exhaustion had hit him yet, but the agent appeared just as awake as when they had started; it was incredibly unfair.
As much as she appreciated the diligence, Darcy knew she would be good to no one if she didn't get some sleep soon. Thankfully, Agent Row seemed to have either read her mind or was finally feeling the effects of the hour as he set the files aside and stood. "You need rest and there is little else we can accomplish before light. I will be back at dawn."
It was so matter of fact and sudden that Darcy was left blinking at the empty chair as the agent's muscle car fired up and pulled out of the driveway. The hell just happened? Whatever it was, Darcy's muddled mind was too tired to figure it out, so she flipped off the lights and collapsed into bed fully clothed, hoping the morning would bring some results.
Dawn came entirely too quickly, as did the sharp knock on the front door. Grumbling to herself, Darcy quickly threw on a clean change of clothes and made her tangled dark hair at least somewhat presentable before pulling open the door for the agent.
"You weren't kidding when you said you'd be here at dawn," she yawned, praying there was still a cup's worth of coffee still in the pot.
"Days are too short to waste any light." Still with the monotone! She had hoped after the first day the agent would be inclined to put some inflection or expression in his voice, but no luck. He really was the perfect stereotype of a federal agent. And entirely too perfectly put together for this hour in the morning after a night with so few hours of sleep.
"Coffee? Muffin?" she offered as she dragged herself to the kitchen, grabbing a breakfast pastry for herself.
"No," again he refused. If he hadn't just picked up one of the files, Darcy would have sworn he wasn't real. But he was real; her imagination would never conjure up someone who refused the very things she lived off of.
Inhaling the food and caffeine, she quickly finished getting ready and returned to the main room where Agent Row was tracing the roads that would lead them to Tom's truck.
"I know how to get up there; Kallen said it was right off Old Junction on the Kentucky Curve," she stated, pulling on her thick coat. They'd be lucky if there wasn't snow up there already.
Row raised an eyebrow, finally a new expression! "None of these roads are labeled."
She nodded, idly wondering what big city he was from. "Old logging roads usually aren't, but they're popular with 4-wheelers and horses so they got local names. Easier to plan meetups with friends out there."
"I will drive," was his only response as he turned away from the map and started for the door. Darcy knew some people, especially really intelligent people, had little to no skills when it came to social interactions butdamn. She hadn't known it was possible to be this bad at it.
"Are you sure?" She looked at the thick fog that greeted them as they opened the door, knowing that even being gravel, the old roads could be slick. She'd be more comfortable taking the SUV up the mountain than the car.
"Yes, I will get better traction than your vehicle will." It was all he offered as he stepped towards the Charger, leaving Darcy no choice but to follow.
She frowned at the cars. A thin layer of pure ice coated her hood, yet the Charger was completely dry and ice-free. Well, it was a souped-up muscle car, it was bound to run a little hot.
Unsurprisingly, it was a silent drive up the mountain, broken only by Darcy's occasional directions. The Charger didn't slip once, even over the wooden bridge where the SUV always did. This car had to have more power and weight to it than it appeared.
"So what's an FBI agent doing with a patrol car?" she finally asked, her curiosity getting the best of her. She could only enjoy the soft leather of the seat for so long.
"I am from a special undercover unit." He didn't shrug, look away from the road, or even blink. The man was the epitome of stoic.
She doubted he would be willing to elaborate, so she let it be for now.
The potholes jostled the Charger little as Row maneuvered it up the twisted, winding road with almost too much ease for someone who'd never been on it before. Old Junction was used often enough to be clear on both sides, but Kentucky Curve was long abandoned by all but horses and so brush encroached on both sides. Cars hadn't been on this particular path in over a decade, so why had Tom driven out here?
Through the thick fog, the green Ranger slowly came into view, barely visible even as the distance closed to twenty feet. Row pulled in behind the truck, what used to be a parking lot now barely large enough to turn around. The engine stayed running as Darcy climbed out. She was surprised he elected to stay in his seat, fiddling with the controls on his dash instead.
Leaving the agent to his own business, the detective approached the truck, placing the back of her hand lightly on the hood. Cold and icy, as expected. Judging by the thickness of the ice over the windshield, it had been many days since it had run. Snapping gloves on, she tried the door, satisfied that it was unlocked and that a few sharp tugs broke the icy resistance and swung it open. Inside, the truck was covered in a thin layer of dirt and dust that was common in ranger rigs. A duffel sat on the passenger seat and as Darcy reached across the cab to grab it, leaning across the driver's seat, she noticed the keys still dangling from the ignition. Well, that was different.
Unzipping the duffel, she found Tom's overnight bag, filled with changes of clothes and freeze-dried meals. A gallon of water sat on the floor, full and untouched. Besides a beat up baseball cap on the dash and a rolled sleeping bag, there wasn't much else in the truck. But it all pointed to one undeniable fact; Tom had been missing for longer than just seven days.
Sliding out of the truck, her pant leg caught on the side of the body, tearing a small hole in her jeans and scratching her leg. Wobbling on one foot, Darcy unhooked the material from the jagged edge and leaned closer to see just what she had scraped against. There, along at least two feet of the bottom edge of the truck, the metal was crunched, bunched, and broken, though in such a minor fashion that she would have missed it otherwise. The damage looked relatively new too. For once, the vehicle was fully worth the pains of processing further. She could have struck evidential gold, and Row, for all his oddities and who still sat in his Charger, just may be her new good luck charm.
Oh yes, he was definitely good luck, she mused as she pulled out her cell, surprised to find a full bar of service out this far and wasting no time to call the station to have the truck towed in.
Row still hadn't moved when she climbed back into his car. "How long?"
Darcy snapped the gloves off and shoved them in her pocket. "Sleeping bag rolled up, food and water untouched, key in the ignition, whatever happened to him happened as soon as he got out here."
It also meant Tom had been missing for a full two weeks and the chances of finding him alive were about as high as meeting an alien that spoke fluent English.
"The CSI's are on their way with the tow truck, I'm going to look around off the road. Whatever caught his attention might still be there." She moved to push the door back open, pausing as the handle gave locked resistance and Row spoke up.
"Don't bother, there is nothing to find. Felton did not leave from this point."
"How do you know that?" she raised a brow, trying the door again even as the agent threw the car into gear. What the hell? What kind of investigator was he?
"You left footprints, there are none leaving the vehicle."
"It's been two weeks…" Really now, the only reason the truck's tracks were still visible was because it was the only traffic coming in here. Footprints didn't last long out here.
"Has it rained?" he asked, his tone indicating he already knew the answer.
"No…"
"There you go," he cut off her protest, backing the Charger to turn around. It was only then that Darcy noticed the faintest impressions from her steps. How had Row even seen those?
Back on Old Junction, Row continued on for another eight miles to where Tom was supposed to start out from. He slowed but did not halt, turning instead onto the split off to Sawhorse Creek. Only Sawhorse Creek was abike trail. It had never been wide enough for cars! But now it was, now the brush was beaten back and smashed enough that the Charger rolled through without issue. Tracks indicated they were far from the first car to come through this way.
The makeshift road did not go very far and it was here that Row finally stopped and stepped out.
"Hope your boots are made for hiking, Agent, this could be a long day," Darcy mused, zipping up her coat against the cold. The fog was impossibly thick, which meant a lot of trekking back and forth to cover everything. Row furrowed his brows at the fog as if he could peer hard enough to see through it. His pressed suit and shiny shoes wouldn't last for long even if the ground was frozen.
The ghost of a foul smell was in the air, reeking like a dead skunk but faint enough to leave only a sickly feel to every breath.
"This is where he disembarked from his vehicle," Row stated, pointing towards the ground in front of the Charger where tire impressions were still frozen into the dirt and brush. Squatting next to them, Darcy could make out the faint footprints heading away from tracks and into the brush.
"Looks like he followed a game trail," she stated, stepping onto the thin strip of well-worn dirt. The bike trail itself twisted in the opposite direction, much wider than the path Tom had taken.
Two weeks should have destroyed all traces of his prints with animal traffic, but there was only one set of prints that crossed over Tom's, a large buck going the opposite way, back towards the road at full speed.
The trees were tall, thin, and sparse, the undergrowth dominated by tall grass and brush. Combined with the fog, it made the possibility of spotting anything off trail nearly impossible. But for now Tom's tracks stayed on the game trail, so Darcy and Row did the same.
It took a hundred yards to really notice, but the smell was getting stronger. Step after step, the severity grew until it was threatening to activate Darcy's gag reflex. For his part, Agent Row seemed unfazed by the smell and equally unruffled by the increasing ground they covered. She was beginning to wonder if anything would affect the man.
Deeper into the valley the trail went, Tom's tracks sticking faithfully to it before finally veering off into what should be an open meadow. It was all obscured by the fog, but the compressed brush from his passing made following his path even easier, though the smell was quickly making up for it. The detective had smelled rank things before, had been down in the sewers in summer, digging through dumpsters and musty basements, but even with the cold dampening much of the stench's strength, she doubted she had ever smelled anything worse.
Traipsing through the grass was quickly wearing on the sleep-deprived brunette, and the cold creeping up from the tear in her pants sunk deep into the bone, almost numbing her leg. The result was a less than graceful walk and combined with the uneven terrain, well, little wonder Darcy didn't see the large dip in the path and tripped right into it.
It was only Agent Row's lightning reflexes that saved her from an unpleasant tête-à-tête with the ground, his hand wrapping around her arm, reeling her back upright, and releasing his hold the second she was stable. Darcy could feel the embarrassment tingeing her cheeks and sorely wished the earthwouldn'ttry to swallow her.
She glanced down to see what it was she had tripped over and immediately forgot about the embarrassment. The ground dipped down and was flattened at least two feet across and mashed into the frozen mud in the middle of it was a green jacket sleeve. Pulling the gloves back from her pocket, she used them to tug the fabric out of the ground. It crackled as she picked it up to look at the shredded seams at the shoulder. Glancing below the seam, she felt her hope crash and burn.
"This was Tom's," she sighed, holding up the sleeve so the agent could see the Ranger patch stitched into it. Frozen blood coated the inside and around the torn seam; too much blood for there to be any real chance of finding the man alive.
A southern wind wound down the valley, channeled by mountain tops on either side. It temporarily relieved the officers of the worst of the smell and stirred the fog, breaking up its stranglehold on the view.
"What the hell?" Darcy muttered, squinting into the fog as an odd shape became visible in the grass. The more she looked, the more it appeared to be a large area of completely flattened grass and brush.
Row was occupied analyzing the impression in the ground, so Darcy trekked forward on her own, mentally cursing as the gust died and the stench hit her full force again. She was thankful the only food in her belly was the muffin.
Every step was taken slowly and cautiously, lest she trample potential evidence. The flattened area came closer and closer, but still the fog was too thick to see anything of worth. So she kept going, keeping hyper aware of where she placed her foot. She could feel it in her gut, feel it slithering down her spine and raising the hairs on the back of her neck; there was something up ahead that was about to change this case. The smell gave her a sickening idea of what it could be, but she dared not dwell on that until the proof lay right before her eyes. She paused some fifteen feet from where the grass was flattened, the standing stalks still blocking her view of whatever may be on the ground. Looking back, she tried to spot Agent Row, but the fog and grass had swallowed him up. She could see or hear nothing of him. The detective was already out this far though, she wasn't about to turn around just because she could no longer pinpoint her partner. Taking a deep breath, Darcy tried to ignore the goosebumps prickling her arms and continued on.
Less than a pace away from the standing grass line, something stark white on the ground caught her attention. Too white to be anything but the one thing she didn't want to confirm it as. But as she breached the grassline and stepped into the unnatural clearing, she couldn't deny it, nor could she deny that this just changed her case entirely. Strewn about, the bones were a chilling contract to the trampled grass and frozen mud they lay on, or in some cases, were partially buried in. She couldn't even tell herself the remains were animal, the skull was unmistakably human. One of her missing had just turned into a homicide.
No. There were too many bones. This wasn't just one person.
The wind whistled through the valley again, shifting the fog and temporarily clearing Darcy's line of sight further into the clearing.
"Oh my god," she breathed, barely able to believe her own eyes. She had known whatever was going on was bigger than anything she'd dealt with before, but she had never guessed it was on a scale likethis. Never had she imagined a scene like this and it would be a long time before she would be able to close her eyes and not see what lay before her.
As far as the tempered fog allowed her to see, at least a full acre of the valley floor had been turned into a pit of decaying gore. Hunks of flesh, bone, and muscle were strewn about, bits of shredded clothing still covered some while others had been reduced to nothing but chipped and broken bone. There was no order, no positioning of the bodies or attempts to cover or hide them. They were everywhere, tossed aside in pieces, new bodies dumped on old. Bone poked out from under and through rotted muscle, skin sloughing off and pooling around newer bodies. There were so many. So many that Darcy's knees shook and her breath was sucked out of her lungs. It was impossible to see just how far this pit went and equally impossible to even begin counting the number of victims out there.
Darcy squatted down as her legs threatened to give out on her, her eyes burning with the pure horror laid out before her. Her attention was caught by two bodies some feet away, slowly succumbing to the process, but appearing to be the most recent of those in her view. The backpacks still on their backs, dark hair, and familiar faces told them exactly who they were.
She had found Andrew's friends.
Chapter 6: Turn of the Dice
Chapter Text
No one can confidently say that he will still be living tomorrow. ~Euripides
"How long this time?" Laurie asked, sipping her cup of tea and carefully watching her sister for any signs of a new round of tears.
"Six months," Cathy sniffed, taking a steadying breath to try to compose herself. She hated this, going through it again and again, promising she'd be stronger next time. But how does one be strong when their husband is deployed for months at a time? How can a wife stay tear-free when she goes home to an empty house, never knowing if that had been her final goodbye?
She had kept herself together for her husband, had kept the tears at bay as she kissed him and watched him get on the plane. But when she arrived home to find Laurie waiting with a fresh pot of tea, she lost the strength to hold back the flood and cried out her pain, praying he would come home safe to her.
"Did he tell you where he's being stationed?" Laurie asked again; it was the same questions, the same tea, and the same heartache every time. Like each time before, she would be there for her sister until Cathy adjusted to the quiet house and kept her sorrow to an eager anticipation to the day the plane would bring her Daniel back to her.
Cathy shook her head, finishing the last gulp of her hot tea, Laurie always knew how to make it best. "It's classified. Ever since he was recruited to that special ops team he can't tell me anything! All he could say was that he would be 'hanging with the big boys in white sands'."
Her frustration at the secrecy was obvious, but he loved his job, and if not telling her exactly where he was saved lives, then she would deal with it.
Laurie stayed with her sister for another few hours, leaving only after the sun had dipped below the horizon and Cathy retired to bed exhausted, promising she would be back tomorrow.
She took the backroads home, preferring the extra miles to the busy streets and harried, impatient drivers. Flicking on her brights, she leisurely cruised down the empty road, fiddling with the radio until she found a country station. Singing along to Eric Church, she tapped the brakes, allowing a doe and her fawn to dart across the road before accelerating back up to speed. Laurie sighed to herself, loving how the line of trees relaxed her and brought a semblance of peace to her mind. She really did need to move out of her apartment in the city. It was a crap-hole and the landlord was a perverted jerk so there was hardly incentive to stay. Her savings was up pretty high, intended for a vacation, but living out in the woods would be a permanent stress reliever….That settled it then, once Cathy was alright again, she was house hunting. Or maybe before then. It would do her sister good to get out and get her mind off Daniel's absence. Tomorrow it is! And for lunch they could hit up that great little diner on the side of the highway, maybe a movie in the evening.
Coasting around a blind corner, Laurie slammed the brakes with a colorful swear as her car barreled towards a large lump in the middle of the road. There was no shoulder to get around. If her car didn't stop in time, there was no way she could avoid hitting it.
Tires screeching against the pavement, the car finally stopped mere feet from the obstruction, headlights shining brightly on the lump of...something. Heart beating wildly, Laurie climbed out of the car, wondering what someone would dump in the middle of the road. She paused next to her door. What if it was a body? What if the killer was still close by? Shaking her head, the woman resolved to lay off of the Criminal Minds marathons.
Stepping up to the fender, Laurie couldn't help but be wary. Her mother had been right after all, apparently, the crime shows did wear on her.
'Stop it,'she chided herself, it was nothing, a roll of carpet bound for the dump that had fallen from a truck, garbage, a road hazard that needed to be moved but no more nefarious than a discarded can in the ditch.
As she crept around the front of her car, headlights blaring on the obstruction, her heart continued to beat a mad rhythm that refused to be slowed. She gasped, jumping back when she saw the dark hair sticking out from the bundled cloth. Thoughts of serial killers and armed madmen in the woods invaded her mind, keeping her ears straining for any hint of the potential killer coming back as she slowly stepped forward again. There was always a chance, however slim, that this victim could still be alive.
She reached out to roll the body over, breath held painfully tight, arm shaking. Her hand passed right through it.
"What?" she yelped, jumping back and ramming the back of her knees into her car's bumper as the body she couldn't touch disappeared entirely.
Millions are scenarios of death and torture raced through her mind as she dashed frantically back into the safety of her, slamming on the electronic lock. Belatedly, she thought to look in the backseat. Flipping on the interior lights, she whirled around, screaming at the lump of her own backpack greeting her from an otherwise empty seat. Gasping for breath that seemed intent to evade her, Laurie turned the interior lights back off, wondering if perhaps she'd had a bit too much to drink. She was being ridiculous. Bodies didn't just appear and disappear in the middle of the road and inanimate objects in her car were scaring her into screeching. That last drink mixed with her general lack of sleep in the last few days was clearly mixing the signals between her eyes and her brain. Definitely no more crime shows for a long while.
Shaking her head at herself and her overactive imagination, she threw the car back into drive, determining to make it home and sleep for many long hours. Cathy would be fine with a late start tomorrow. The car rolled forward as she let off the brake and stepped onto the gas, wishing for nothing more than to be curled up in her blankets in her bed. She really should have just taken the city route; crazy drivers be-damned. She could have been stepping through her front door by now if she had.
Ten yards ahead the body flashed into view again and fake or not, instinct had her slamming the brakes again. This was either one hell of a hallucination or...well, she wasn't quite sure what 'or' could be, but it was certainly happening. Before the car could come to a full stop, before she could contemplate driving through the illusion, the car sputtered and died. Like a switch the engine cut off, the headlights following suit as the vehicle rolled with the last of its momentum through the blinding dark. She couldn't see the illusion, couldn't see the road or inside the car; she couldn't see a damn thing. Panic invaded her mind as she desperately cranked the key, willing the car to come back to life. It refused to even try, refused to give her even the light and comfort of the radio. Heart pounding in her ears, she felt around, yanking on the switch for the interior lights. They stayed dark. Tears burning her eyes, she felt around the passenger seat for her purse, attempting to search it by touch for her phone. A small sliver of relief passed through her as she found it. She was getting the hell out of here whether it was in her car or someone else's.
"No, no, no!" she yelled as she pressed the buttons to no avail. The phone was dead too.
The roar of a powerful engine cut through her panicking thoughts. Rescue! Someone else was going to drive by and save her from whatever bad trip she was on!
Yanking on the door, she cried out in broken frustration as the locks stayed steadfastly in place. She banged on the window, desperate to be out of the car so she could flag down whoever was coming. Headlights blasted directly through the glass, blinding her. They weren't coming through her windshield or back window, but rather, through herpassengerwindow. There was nothing on that side of the road but trees and brush. The engine growled in steady rhythm. The car did not come upon her, it had been lying in wait.
The lights jolted as the mysterious vehicle rocketed forward. It reached her before she could swing for the window. What rightly happened, she couldn't track. The force of the impact flung her body like a rag, bashing her head against something solid. Her car skid across the road as it was continuously pushed before an impact on her side brought it to a jarring halt. Glass shattered, the frame buckling as metal tore away. Her head pounded, her bearings scattered. Metal crunched and clanked against metal, air exhausts vented loudly, and for the briefest moment, Laurie was sure she saw a flash of large tires and blue paint before the raging in her skull overtook her mind and dragged her into oblivion.
Red and blue lights flashed from almost every direction, bright spotlights shone off the roofs of the vehicles, keeping the gruesome scene visible well after the sun had set. Darcy wasn't even sure what the exact protocol was for securing and processing a scene like this, she wasn't sure anyone was. The sheer size and magnitude was not something any of them were prepared for.
The freezing fog had done little to help the officers figure out how far they needed to tape off before that idea was thrown out the window. Instead the entire fleet of SUVs had been brought up and formed a haphazard ring of flashing lights around the pit. The whole department was out here working on it, but with the only experienced homicide detective now retired as of midnight, Darcy suddenly found herself thrust into a role she wasn't entirely sure she was prepared for.
But as of this moment, she had a slightly more pressing matter than ordering around officers that knew how to do their job. The chief had arrived moments ago and instead of making a beeline for her, he was headed towards Agent Row, who hadn't said much of anything since making the call to her department when her cell had refused to find service. It really wouldn't have been much of an issue...if involving the FBI had been sanctioned.
Readjusting the mask someone had brought for her to combat the smell, she started to pick her way towards the two men, hoping to reach them before the chief could officially recant the invitation to the agent to assist with the case. So far it wasn't a federal matter, no matter how horrid; he could do it.
"Detective?" an officer halted her progress as he stepped in front of her, a clipboard and notes in hand. He looked young and green and Darcy had little doubt he was one of the many who had revisited their meals when they arrived.
"Yes...Campbell?" she peered at his nametag, it was vaguely familiar, most likely one of the new recruits that had joined over the last few months.
"Preliminary numbers are at least fifty-two human remains and one horse. M.E. is reporting a best guess at time of deaths at a few weeks to a year." To his credit, he rattled off the information with all the professionalism he could muster, though the mere thought of so many bodies before him seemed to be making him want to purge again.
Darcy nodded, waving him off to return to whatever duty he'd been assigned. Fifty-two people and counting; murdered and dumped in her jurisdiction. And it had taken her almost a year to find this dumping ground. She couldn't even take true credit for finding it, it was Row who had spotted the newly made road and taken it. Her gut sank and twisted against the building guilt. Why had it taken her so long to find this place? How many could have still been alive had she found it sooner?
Forcibly ripping herself from those thoughts, she returned to the here and now. She could wallow in guilt later, doing it now was not going to bring these people back. Finding and stopping whoever was responsible would at least bring some justice for the murdered and closure for the living.
One horse's remains found out among the humans? Erika Kyle, presumed victim number one, who had disappeared April 10th of the previous year, had been riding her horse. Darcy would bet anything Erika's bones were here as well.
Glancing over to the chief and FBI agent, Darcy mentally winced. While both men stood calm and were speaking in level tones, she could see the tell-tale redness of the chief's face that stated he was fighting hard to not blow up. The pulsing vein in his forehead proved it was just as bad as she'd imagined it would be. Row, for his part, appeared as stoic and unfazed as ever. Even after initially discovering this dumping ground, the cold indifference in his expression had Darcy half expecting him to call the horror 'unfortunate'. He hadn't, but she had to wonder at the things he'd seen in his life to make this unable to affect him.
She barely made it two steps towards them before she was stopped again.
"Detective?" She turned toward the approaching officer. Another rookie she barely recognized. They were getting a hell of an experience. Any who made it through this with their sanity and stomach intact would be able to face anything the job might throw their way. "We've ID'd one of the recent vics, Tom Felton. There's also a distinct set of tire tracks going through part of the pit and we've found some sort of corrosive acid on some of the bodies."
"Alright. Get an impression of those tracks and a sample of the acid to the lab right away." She sighed as he hurried off to relay her orders. The tracks could be a break and she'd bet her last dollar the acid would match what was found on Andrew's body. But she sorely wished she could have different news for the rangers and Tom's wife. Another death notification. The first of what was going to be many.
It was the one part of the job that simply never got easier.
Darcy started again towards the quiet confrontation, pausing as it came to an end and the chief stormed towards her.
"We will have words later," he snarled as he stalked past. She sighed again. The look on his face suggested she would be very lucky to escape that particular conversation with her job.
"That man is a simple-minded, arrogant fool." Darcy started as Row appeared beside her.
She shrugged as they watched the chief reach his car and drive off. "It's an election year."
"That is not an excuse for reprehensible behavior."
"That's politics." Either he'd really never dealt with politicians before or he just didn't understand them. Darcy could agree with the latter, and she hoped she never would reach the point of understanding.
"I am beginning to see the pattern," he muttered more to himself than her. Apparently he did have some experience with bureaucrats after all.
There was nothing for the two to do now that the processing was well under way, so they stood and watched the coroners loading body bags into the vans. They would be at it all night. No need for the head detective and FBi agent to hang around and she was in some seriously desperate need for coffee and sleep, in either order.
Row glanced over at her as a yawn audibly cracked her jaw. "There is nothing else to do this night and you need to recharge."
Darcy snorted as she stripped off the facemask and turned to follow him back to his Charger. "I'd rather just replace my battery."
She would almost swear he hesitated at that, looking back at her before shaking his head and muttering something too low for her to hear. She was too tired to even care what the stuffy agent thought.
Climbing into the muscle car, she was extraordinarily grateful for whatever was wrong with the thing that made it still warm after sitting in the cold for well over twelve hours. As Row put the cruiser in gear and began down the long road back to civilization, Darcy leaned her head against the window, lulled by the warmth and purring engine into a place between consciousness and sleep. Even the window was warm, she noted absently.
"You can crash at my place if you want. I've got a spare room and it beats driving all the way into the city for the hotel," she offered quietly. He'd gotten as little sleep-less actually from the drive to whatever hotel he was staying in-as her, so why not offer the spare bed? They were most likely going back up the mountain together tomorrow anyway.
Row said nothing, and it wasn't until the phone buzzing in her pocket jolted her awake that Darcy realized they were back on pavement and out of the trees. Apparently she'd fallen asleep. While the perfect warmth of the cruiser encouraged her to go right back out, the buzzing had woken her enough that she wasn't about to ignore it. It was a text. From the chief? The chief didn't send texts...well, unless it was the only way to get a message to her, intended for whenever she came back down into the reception area. Funny that she was just getting it now when there had been a clear signal by Tom's truck.
She sighed after reading the text, thumping her head back against the headrest. "Sleep will have to wait, Chief just called me to the station."
Without blinking, Row shifted the car out of the turn lane, still unbelievably affected by the hour.
A rumbling, growling stomach reminding her of the single muffin so many hours ago quickly had Darcy altering plans again. "Chief can wait a few extra minutes, food first. There's a 24-hour food joint just up the road from the station."
A loosely used term for the fast-food that was one of millions scattered across the country. Hardly real sustenance, but at this point Darcy couldn't find it within herself to care. She needed calories and it didn't really matter where they came from. Without question of choice or directions, Row drove straight past the station and into the parking lot of the greasy food joint. His expression stayed neutral save for the small raise of an eyebrow as he took in the colorful place.
"You want anything? I'm buying," she offered, climbing stiffly out of the Charger. No way was she about to eat in a car that nice.
"No," Row responded stiffly, slowly looking around at the cheerfully decorated walls and appearing distinctly out of place standing in the lobby.
Darcy was beginning to give up on the guy; he didn't eat or drink anything seemingly ever.
Row wandered off to find a table-not that there were any thatweren'tavailable-while Darcy ordered for herself. Despite the lack of any other customers, she had a feeling he was going to pick a prime spot to watch the door and his Charger. Glancing over to the spot he chose, she knew she wasn't wrong.
"Are you sure you don't want anything?" She sat across from him with her food, gesturing to the heaping serving of salty fries they'd given her.
He picked up one of the offending fries, looking at it like it had insulted him personally. He quickly dropped it back onto the tray. "I assure you, i can find my own...sustenance."
Taking a gulp of the coffee, Darcy grimaced. For all the hype of the commercials, the station's coffee was better than this, and that was not a high standard to beat. But caffeine was caffeine, so after inhaling her meal, she downed the rest of the cup. "Alright, might as well face the executioner now."
Row gave her a strange look as they walked back out to his car. "It would be counterproductive for your senior officer to murder you."
She snorted, just where did this guy come from? "Depending on how mad he is, he might not think so."
The trip back to the station felt like it took seconds and Darcy hesitated before forcing herself to step out of the relative safety of the Charger. She turned back before she closed the door. Row had been shadowing her all day, he certainly didn't need to continue to do so. "The chief just demanded my presence, you don't have to wait; there's no telling how long he may go on for."
Row nodded, but turned the key and leaned back in his seat all the same. Darcy couldn't help but smile a little to herself as she closed the door and turned to face the music. It was always good to have an FBI agent as backup.
"Close the door, Detective," the chief ordered the second she entered his officer. She did so, knowing such an order was never a good sign and feeling a pit of dread sink into her gut as the door clicked shut.
"Do you enjoy your job, Detective?" Sitting comfortably behind his desk, the chief did nothing but look at her. His laptop remained shut, paperwork untouched and phone tucked away. His sole attention was on the woman before him and that was never a good thing.
"Of course, Sir." She was hesitant to answer, unsure if the question was supposed to be rhetorical or not.
"And do you understand direct orders when they are given?" The calm in his voice might have made her relax if it weren't for the pulsing vein in his forehead. He was a volcano ready to blow.
"Yes I do." She couldn't stop the slight bite to her tone. Sure he might be upset that she went behind his back but it had resulted in the biggest find of the department's history! Shouldn't the pit of human bodies take precedence over his issue with the federal agent?
"Then would you mind telling me what thehellthe FBI is doing here?!" He ended in a full yell that made Darcy glad the station was deserted.
"Sir…"
"No." He held up his hand, signaling that he really didn't care what she had to say for herself. "I gave you a clear order and you deliberately disobeyed it. I will not stand for insubordination in my department. You called the feds when I wanted this kept in-house."
"With all due respect, it was necessary…" He cut her off again, face red in his fury.
"I don't need officers who do what theythinkis necessary! I need officers I can trust to follow basic commands!"
She clenched her jaw. "We have a lot of families who will finally get closure because I called. Sometimes the ends justify the means."
"Not in my department," he growled, fists clenching on his desk. "This isn't the first time you've crossed the line, but it will be the last. Pack your things, Blake, you're done here."
"What?!" She jolted to her feet. A demotion she could understand, perhaps even riding the desks for a few years, but to lose her job entirely? It was absurd!
"This conversation is over, turn in your badge and your weapon." This was it then, he was just going to fire her and then what? Assign the case to one of the rookies? Absolutely not.
"Look," she planted her hands on his desk, "fire me for doing the right thing, I don't care, butnotuntil this case is closed. I know the details better than anyone else. By the time someone else gets caught up, whatever leads the dumping grounds have given us will be useless. Take my job, but let me see this one through to the end."
The chief stared at her hard for several long moments, which she elected to take as a sign he was thinking about it. "You will run every decision you make by me, you will take no new cases or get involved in any others. This will be your one and only and you are gone the moment it's done. Now get out."
Giving a stiff nod, Darcy walked out of the chief's office, pausing only when she reached her desk to take a breath and gather her bearings. She loved this job, hell it was herlife,but she stood by her decisions. At least she could stay on until they caught whoever was responsible. She could worry about a job after it was over. Glancing at John's empty desk, guilt gnawed at her gut. She still hadn't apologized to him. Later, she had later to do it. Right now the priority was getting home and getting some sleep so she could be fresh to read the reports from the dumping grounds in the morning.
Dragging herself out of the station, she was surprised and grateful to see Row still there, passenger door unlocked and open for her. He didn't ask when she climbed in and she didn't tell, but it was nice to not be completely alone with her thoughts.
The trip to the house was silent and for the first time Darcy could say the agent actually looked tired, or at least mildly strained. No doubt he needed a good sleep as well.
"The offer still stands," she yawned as they pulled into her driveway. "The guest room is there if you want it."
Honestly, she expected him to refuse like he did everything else. He surprised her again by nodding with a quiet word of thanks and following her inside.
"It's on the right," she pointed down the hall at the open door as she stumbled through her own. "Feel free to raid the cupboards if you're hungry. I'll see you in the morning."
She wasn't even totally positive she was still speaking clear english as the exhaustion hit her like a wall and muddled her words. Barely managing to close her door all the way, she shuffled to the bed, knowing she should shower first. She was too tired to care and only forced herself through changing out of the clothes that still smelled of death. Flopping onto the bed, she was out before her head hit the pillow.
She didn't dream, or if she did, she had no memories of it. It was too dark for her to be waking up naturally, so what? The shrill ringing of the phone tugged her back from dozing off again. Blearily, she threw her hand onto the nightstand, attempting to find the phone without lifting her head from the pillows or opening her eyes. Curiosity finally won over when her hand found its target; dragging the phone to her, she glanced at the time and the caller ID. Muttering a hello, she wondered why John was calling her at a quarter to seven.
"Detective Darcy Blake?" The voice was female, urging Darcy's brows into a frown before she remembered her old mentor was married.
"Juliet?" her voice drawled on her, eyes half closing as she half slipped back towards the world of oblivion. She was just so damntired.
The woman on the other end sucked in a shaky breath. "John's missing. I think he's been abducted."
Chapter 7: Rogue
Chapter Text
When a good man is hurt, all who would be called good must suffer with him. ~Euripides
Darcy's mind whirled frantically, a million worst-case scenarios mashing and jumbling into an almost incoherent pattern yet still managed to paint an image she had never wanted to see. Missing? John was missing? It didn't make sense, it was hardly believable. John was a cop, retired now but it was still in his blood. Cops just didn't go missing. Least of all John, who had to be the most reasonable and aware person out there.
"Why do you think he was abducted?" her mouth worked on autopilot as her mind struggled to grasp what was happening. Not John. Anyone but John. He knew how to handle himself, he wouldn't let himself be a victim.
"His car is in the driveway, keys still in it and his door isoff!" Sobs choked the woman as her wavering control broke. Darcy hurriedly dressed, tripping out the door of her room as she shoved her boots on, John's wife continuing how he'd gone out to get coffee and breakfast for them before she'd gotten up, only he'd never come back in. That was thirty minutes ago.
With almost startling speed, Darcy was out the door with keys in hand. Thirty minutes, it wasn't much of a head start for whoever had taken him. It could be enough to get to him in time. It had to be enough.
She remembered Agent Row asleep in her guest room as she spotted his Charger neatly parked behind her SUV. Almost bumper-to-bumper, the muscle car effectively blocked her in; she'd have no choice but to go wake the agent.
But John's life could hang in the balance; seconds could be critical.
Better to ask forgiveness than permission.
There were only two options left, forcing her way out or borrowing the agent's car. Her mind was made before she'd finished crossing the driveway, she only hoped hotwiring the Charger wouldn't require completely destroying the paneling. Opening the blessedly unlocked door, however, revealed it wouldn't be necessary, the key was still in the ignition. God bless Row and his ballsy confidence that no one would dare touch his cruiser, this was saving crucial time.
The small part of her brain remarking this was not a good idea fully expected Row to come charging out of the house as the engine roared to life. But he didn't, and she wasn't about to wait for him.
Hundreds of horses rumbled as she peeled out of the driveway, spun onto the road, and sped down the street. The lightest touch sent the muscle car surging ahead. Lights and sirens wailed as she gave the horses their heads and let the Charger tear down the blacktop.
John lived across town from her and every second it took to get there felt like an eternity. Her mentor was missing, her partner, her friend, and she hadn't even gotten to apologize to him yet. Now she might have permanently lost her chance.
Cursing, she banged her fist on the steering wheel. Why did she have to be so stupid? Why did she have to let her temper and pride get the better of her again? He had warned her, had been trying to get her to see reason and she threw it in his face. It could be the last memory of her he had.
"No," she growled to herself, pushing the Charger fast, hitting speeds that were illegal in every country. That would not be the last memory he had of her, he would not be the next victim, he would not be her next notification. She refused to consider it a possibility. It wouldn't happen. It couldn't happen. She would find him, save him, and personally escort his abductor to hell.
There was something to be said for the record time she made it to John's, but whatever relief that gave her evaporated the moment she saw it.
Denial couldn't hold out against the evidence that lay in the Charger's headlights. John's Crown Victoria sat in the driveway; the driver's door wasn't open, it wasgone. She sat in the muscle car, trying to process what the hell she was seeing.
Her mind stuttered as she slowly emerged from the safe ignorance of the agent's cruiser. A part of her still demanding that this couldn't be real with every step she took towards the red car.
Where the driver's door should have been hinged to the car's body was nothing but torn and shredded strips of metal, shining red and silver in the dim porch-light. Darcy's stomach twisted into a tight knot as the realization that not all of the red was the car's paint.
Spinning away from the car, she sucked in deep breaths as she tried to get her roiling emotions under control. John was out there somewhere, bleeding in the hands of a psychopath, and waiting for her to rescue him. She couldn't afford to not be in control.
Too-familiar dread overwhelmed her. Grabbing victims of opportunity was one thing, abducting a detective in his own driveway was intentional and methodical. The question nagged at her, was this the same people responsible for the dumping grounds, or something else?
She doubted it was unrelated, but either way the chief wouldn't allow her anywhere near this investigation when it was her own ex-partner. No way was she going to just walk away and leave a rookie to it; she would handle this one, quietly if she had to. Pulling a steadying breath, she knew she couldn't do it alone and almost regretted leaving Row at the house.
Metal glistened in the grass some twenty yards away. Holy...it was thedoor! Or what was once the door, the bundled mass was hardly recognizable as anything, but the broken glass and bits of interior were a clear enough sign of what it had been.
A hum buzzed in the air behind her, almost imperceptible if not for the dead silence of the still-dark morning. She turned, freezing as a blue light ghosted along John's car, running over every dip and crevice it passed over. Almost lazily it ran over the trunk, the hum louder as it...well, she was exactly sure what it was doing. Following the thin tendrils to its source gave her a start. It was coming from theCharger. And suddenly she understood what the blue light was.
Agent Row's car was scanning the damaged vehicle. How was as baffling as why. The engine wasn't even running, how the hell was itscanningthe other car? Just what kind of division of the FBI was Row in that his car was straight out of a James Bond movie?
Her eyes traced back to the blue scanners as they moved up to the roof, the light revealing far more damaged than she'd originally seen. The back windows were broken in, tiny pieces of glass sparkling on the backseats, but it was the roof that stole her attention. Her breath sucked out of her as she looked closer. Above the back seat, the metal was bent, buckled, and torn in a way that was almost eerily familiar. While more extensive in damage, the pattern was identical to that on Tom's truck.
From the main damage, three thick indents expanded outwards across the roof, slightly angled away from each other. As the blue light traced over it further, she could make out a fourth dent splayed out from the original, running along the edge of the roof. It was such a strange and damn-it-all familiar pattern that it made a pit of fear creep up her spine, setting nerves on edge and hair on end. It was irrational, she couldn't explain what she was suddenly afraid of, but her heart pounded in her chest nonetheless, and her instincts were screaming for her to run.
Backing away from the car, she tried to calm her suddenly erratic breathing. Bringing a shaking hand up to shove her hair back, she froze, staring at the limb. Turning her palm away from her, she dropped her pinkie down and studied the general shape it created. The scanner light had reached the front of the car, but she could still clearly make out the mangled indent on the roof.
Whatever improvements her heart had made in returning to a regular rhythm were rendered obsolete when she held her hand up to line over the indent. It was an almost identical match, albeit at least five times the size.
It was a damnedhandprint.
Cold, paralyzing fear struck the breath from her lungs. Bending, she braced herself on her knees, gasping for air as she struggled to shove the fear away. There was nothing there, why the hell was she so terrified? The indent had to be from whatever was braced against the car that tore the door off. Whoever did this just made it look like a handprint to freak people out. That had to be it; it was the only rational answer, because the hulk didn't exist and he certainly didn't go around abducting retired detectives.
The blue scanners reached the front end of the car and disappeared. Almost instantly they reappeared at the bottom of her feet, moderately tracing their way up. She knew she couldn't actually feel the light, but her skin prickled anyway, like a ghost of a touch. It felt exposing and she was only grateful when it finished and vanished again. She was not going to spend any time wondering why the damn car had chosen to scan her.
Dawn began to brighten the sky despite the fog that just refused to let go. Dimly, she could make out skid marks on the road in front of the driveway, directing the way John's abductors had gone.
A large part of her screamed to follow the marks immediately, but the rational side cautioned against going in guns blazing without backup. They had managed to take John without raising the alarm of his wife or neighbors despite literally ripping the door clean off of his car. She'd be no good to him if she got caught as well because she was too impatient to get help.
Sirens wailed in the distance, gaining volume as they drew closer. Darcy silently cursed as she returned to the Charger. Of course Juliet would call the rest of the department as well; the chief would give her the boot the second he found out she was here. He couldn't find out she was already involved, couldn't know she had ever been there.
Taking note of the direction the skid marks pointed towards, she climbed into the stupidly advanced muscle car, determined to pick up Row and go after John.
The interior was still the perfect temperature to get feeling back into her fingertips. Even the damn steering wheel was heated. This car, with all its quirks, was an honest-to-God blessing.
Pulling out, she sped down the road, ducking around the corner just as the cavalry slid into John's driveway. Hopefully there would be a way for Row to access the car's scanner history. She doubted he'd believe her about the handprint dent without seeing it for himself.
While the adrenaline slowly faded, the urgency did not. Every moment John got further and further out of reach. He couldn't afford delays. Half a block from his home, she blasted lights and sirens again, letting the Charger surge ahead.
Dawn had fully encroached by the time she made it to her street, the sun dimly fighting its way through the thickening bank of clouds. The fog was slowly burning away, but it only made her curse. It meant snow was on the way and that would make everything that much harder.
She expected to find Row waiting for her in the driveway when she pulled in next to her SUV, eager to rip her a new one for stealing his car, but he was nowhere. Perhaps he was stewing inside, or still asleep. Leaving the engine running, Darcy jumped out and jogged towards the door. Whatever Row had to say to her could be said on the move and she would just ask double forgiveness later.
She winced to herself as she pushed through the door and moved straight for the spare room; she was racking up apologies faster than bills. Row was not in the living room or the kitchen, nor did he reveal himself in the spare room, whose bed looked as if no one had slept in it. Brows pinching, she checked hers, just to be sure.
"Row?" she called and was met with silence. The FBI agent was nowhere to be found.
Thiswas exactly the kind of delay John could not afford right now. Just where the hell had the fed gone? It wasn't as if he'd taken her SUV anywhere and this town didn't exactly have a hopping Uber service.
Darcy growled to herself with a sharp curse. If he wasn't here then he wasn't here and it was a waste of time looking for him.
Slinging the door shut behind her as she breezed back out into the cold, her step stuttered as she saw him, stance rigid as he waited for her next to his Charger. How in the hell had he gotten by her? No way had he been outside when she pulled in; his face certainly lacked the pink tint the below-freezing temperatures would have stained it with had he been out longer than five minutes, but where could he possibly have hidden and why would he?
Taking note of his growing scowl, she blinked, realizing he looked more like Karl Urban than anyone but Karl Urban had a right to. The resemblance was uncanny.
And unimportant right now.
Mentally shaking herself from that train of thought, she knew the level of emotion he was actively expressing definitely meant he was pissed. He had every right to be, but he could express it later; her limited head start on John was slipping away with every passing second.
"My retired partner was abducted and it was a targeted attack. It's got to be the same people responsible for the other abductions and murders. I've got a heading that might be useful if we hurry," Darcy recapped for him, bypassing the agent completely and heading for the driver's door of the still-running Charger. She could give him the full run-down once their tires were turning. Tugging on the door, she rationalized that while it was his car, she was the one who knew which way to go, it only made sense for her to drive. The door stayed firmly shut. Agent Row had yet to move from his position at the front of the car.
"You did well to bring this case to my attention, but I shall be taking care of it from here on," he stated, his tone authoritative and flat despite the pinch of his brows.
"Excuse me?" Why wouldn't the damn door open already? She knew she hadn't locked it when she got out.
His next statement, however, pulled all of her attention away from the stubborn door. "I am relieving you of duty from this case and all those related to it."
The hell he was.
Every speck of positive emotions for him vaporized in an instant.Thiswas typical FBI, swooping in and taking over. Well, that wasn't about to fly this time.
"What the hell gives you the right?" It didn't matter if he was bureau, it didn't matter how big this case was or what politics were going on between him and the chief, this washercase. She had calledhimin for hishelp. As of yet there was no evidence of this crime crossing state lines or being terror related, he had no right or grounds to take it from her.
He didn't physically respond to her, his scowl disappearing into the familiar stoic expression. "You have been emotionally compromised by the case at hand. You are now personally invested and standard procedure is to remove officers connected in such a way to the victim."
She growled, he sounded like a damn computer. "You can't tell me with this many people you aren't invested as well."
He was so emotionally distant and factual that it royally infuriated her. "No, I am not invested in such a way."
That bastard. Though his tone remained indifferent, the underlying feeling to his words was that any sort of emotional connection to the case was foolish and beneath him. For a flash, she regretted calling the bureau in the first place.
"Don't forget it was me who called for you assistance, buddy," she snapped, marching up to him and jabbing her finger into his chest. Damn his body had no give to it. "I brought you in on thislocalcase, you have no authority to take me off it."
An eyebrow twitched upward as he glanced down at the digit assaulting him before he responded smoothly, "On the contrary, I have the government's authority to remove whomever I deem unfit. As you are emotionally unstable from the most recent victim, you are unfit to continue with the investigation. I shall handle it from here and update you when the need arises."
When the need arises? Unstable and unfit? Her fists clenched, every ounce of willpower going towards not decking the man. He moved before she could come up with a response that would not be an outraged slew of curses, stepping around her and opening his car door with ease.
Panic struck. After fighting the chief to be able to finish the case that had cost her her job, the man she'd lost it for was going to just take it from her? She grasped for something, anything, to make him realize he needed her as much as she had needed him. "You don't even know what way the abductors were going!"
It was pathetic, but she was desperate. She had to stay on, she had to save John. She owed him so much, more than could ever be put into words, she couldn't just leave his life in the hands of a fed who didn't even know him.
"He was headed northwest." Agent Row disappeared into his car and pulled away, leaving Darcy speechless in her driveway, watching his taillights fade.
Her job was over, her only true friend missing, and now she'd lost her chance of getting him back. Keys jingled as she numbly shoved her cold hands into her jacket pockets. Pulling them out in a daze, she wondered what she'd done in a past life to have earned all this.
The silver metal jangled cheerfully, shining in the morning light; a mass of swaying color until Darcy's mind cleared enough to recognize just what they were. The keys to her department-issued SUV.
Spine stiffening and jaw clenching, Darcy vowed that no one was going to sideline her while her partner was in trouble. Throwing herself into the front seat, she jammed the key into the ignition and turned, ready to chase down the bastards responsible for all of this. The engine choked on the cold before firing up, a delay just long enough for straight thinking to barrel its way back to the forefront. It would be foolish to go racing off in the direction the abductors went. The department and Row were following that particular lead. The agent probably knew her rig enough to recognize it on sight and after the stunt he'd just pulled, she couldn't say she knew how he might respond to that.
There was a different route to helping John that she would have to take. She doubted he'd been taken by anyone but the group responsible for the dumping grounds, which meant whatever leadsthathad dug up could point towards him. Leads Row wouldn't have.
As much as her frantic emotions tried telling her to follow the path of the Charger, Darcy turned and headed the opposite direction. Row could follow the obvious lead in his supercharged car; she would follow the one even the killers didn't know they had left.
She may not have actively been chasing anyone, but she still blared the sirens all the way to the hospital.
The morgue was packed near to bursting, the temperature dropped to keep the overflow from rotting further. Despite the heavy use of medical-grade cleaning agents, the smell was still horrendous.
Every coroner within four counties had been called in to work on the bodies that were distributed between five hospitals and even then they'd been pulling double shifts and napping in the breakroom.
Her county's mortician was almost asleep at his computer, inputting notes from the file next to him but struggling to keep his eyes open. Darcy dropped a fresh coffee from the cafeteria upstairs in front of him. "What do you have for me, Doc?"
He sighed, pausing his languid typing to rub his eyes under his glasses and sip gratefully from the cup. "Total count now is sixty-five, but they're estimating at least seven more in the pile of the bones they're separating."
He gestured over towards the two examiners who were working on turning a table of bones into identifiable bodies. Seven skulls sat apart. "We've managed to identify some of the more recent victims, but the oldest bones are at least fourteen months old. It'll take time to get back results on dental impressions."
A few names, a few families could finally get some semblance of closure, but it wasn't necessarily a lead she could use just yet.
"What about COD?" Similar cause-of-death would make it easier in the end to link every victim to the same suspect and might reveal a clue to motive.
The coroner sighed again, leaning back in his chair and dropping his glasses on the keyboard. "I've never seen anything like this before. COD's are all over the place. We've all been combining and comparing our notes and we're at a range of blood loss to broken spines to impalement and crushing. Some of the earlier victims went to St. Mary's and Dr. Powell is reporting their COD's are more towards starvation, dehydration, and exposure."
Darcy frowned, rocking back on her heels. Dr. Conners' findings were definitely spot-on for making a solid case against whatever perp was behind this, but…. "Starvation, dehydration, and exposure all sound like natural causes, Doc, is there anything else you can say about them?"
There was no doubt in her mind that every victim in that field had died before their time, but natural causes would be harder to pin to someone in court.
Dr. Conners' computer chimed with an incoming email that he ignored in favor of answering, "Natural causes to the body, yes, in timeline, no. Dr. Powell says they died too quickly, the process took half the time it should have."
Conners shook his head, mindlessly taking a file being passed to him from one of the assistants and unceremoniously dropping it onto the rather large pile taking up half his desk. "He also found a large number of bruises, cuts, and breaks to the bones, especially in the older ones. Whatever natural death finally ended their suffering was the primary cause, but there was a lot going on that sped up the process."
Darcy blew out a breath, wondering not for the first time just what she'd stumbled into up there. "What was the most common injury?"
He grimaced, "Blunt-force trauma."
Chewing her lip, she contemplated what it all could mean and who it could point to. Whatever the case, John was in a lot more trouble than even she'd initially known. The revelation only strengthened her resolve to find him.
"The reports are already in your email," he stated before she could ask for them.
"Thanks, Doc." At least some questions were being answered, even if those answers were bringing more questions with them.
He nodded, turning back to his computer and probably the ignored email as Darcy approached the other examiners working on the bodies. They said much of the same, the older remains consistently sported signs of advanced natural causes while the newer victims had varying brutal ends. The detective paused as she looked at one of the bodies being autopsied. What was left of the corpse was burned beyond recognition and flattened into a barely humanoid shape. The bowls generally used for holding organs contained only bits and pieces.
"Most of the burns were done ante-mortem by some sort of corrosive chemical the lab is still working on identifying," the examiner responded when she questioned him. "The crushing is what ended this poor woman. I can't even guess what it was, but it weighed a ton, literally."
The image of the ruined door to John's car flashed before her eyes. Was it whatever machine that had done that that fell and flattened this woman? It was a high possibility.
Turning away from the mangled remains, she made for the door. The new reports waiting for her were going to take all day to go through. The sooner she got started, the sooner she might gleen a lead from it.
There were still notifications to give out as well. It never got easier, telling someone their loved one was never coming home.
"Detective," Conners' voice stopped her in the doorway. He was still at his computer, a grimace present on his face.
Darcy returned to his side, glancing at the screen and the email he was looking at. "Lab results just came in for the stomach contents of the most recents victims. Jake Baxter and Brian Spellman had the standard eggs and bacon, but most of the rest appear to have been fed some sort of bad bread. The number of vics with water-borne bacteria in their gut suggests water probably isn't being treated. It's like your culprits don't know how to keep people alive."
"Or don't care," Darcy corrected, knowing that whoever was doing this definitely did not care one way or the other. The bodies would have been disposed of like that if there was any sort of remorse.
"Or both," he suggested, tapping his fingers on his stack of files. "Look at CODs. What we've seen of the oldest remains is mostly dehydration, then exposure, then starvation. Yet none of our victims that died within the last six months passed from those causes, and none in the last five have died of heart failure. It's like the traffickers are learning how to keep their victims longer, though it obviously still means very little to them if their victims live or die in the long run."
"Traffickers? What makes you think we're dealing with those?" Darcy raised a questioning brow. He was probably right, considering the sheer quantity of victims they had found compared to the number of people missing from her county, but M.E.s were generally supposed to trynotmaking connections or conjecture.
"Because two of the vics we've identified went missing in Indiana and many of the bodies contained insect larvae which couldn't have existed in the temperatures we've had," he explained, tapping away at his computer to bring up a photograph of the larvae.
"Where is it native to?" As much as a nuisance as bugs could be to the living, they were invaluable as forensic evidence. She'd cracked more than one case thanks to bugs.
Conners shrugged, "The lab is working on it. The cold preserved them pretty well, best guess at this point is anywhere it's been warmer, maybe wetter. I'd bet west coast but we'll know for sure when they finish."
"Got an ETA on when that will be?" There really was no telling sometimes how long the labs would take, but she hoped with such a big case every piece of it would be top priority. Dr. Conners' cousin was the lead forensic tech for the big lab, so it was possible he might have some inside information on the schedule. After the rather...dramatic break up a few years ago, Darcy was more than happy to let the M.E. play mediator between them.
With no desire to relivethoseparticular memories, she mentally shook herself and focused on what Conners was saying and figuring out what she was going to do next, now that she had neither department nor federal help to back her up. There was little doubt in her mind that Row wouldn't bother to keep her updated as he said, so there was no relying on that either.
"...there really is no telling," conners finished, turning back to his computer as it pinged again. After a moment of quiet, he added, "On a positive note, four more victims were just identified."
More closure for more families, just not the kind she'd been hoping to bring. "Thanks Dr. Conners."
"Darcy, we were almost family. How many times do I have to tell you to call me Allan?"
She turned away to hide her wince, heading for the door and tossing over her shoulder, "At least once more, Doc."
Her phone buzzed as she stepped out of the hospital and into the fresh and freezing air, saving her from the trip down memory lane her mind was attempting to traipse down. Snow drifted lazily, sticking to her jacket as she crossed the parking lot and pulled out her phone. It wasn't a number she recognized. A spark of hope lit in her chest, perhaps it was Row, realizing what a colossal mistake he'd made in kicking her out.
It wasn't.
In fact, the garbled 'Detective Blake?'that made it through the static wasn't a voice she recognized at all.
"You better get up here as fast as possible," the voice cleared some, familiar monotone just underlying the initial emotion of urgency.
"Get up where?" She narrowed her eyes at her SUV, mentally checking every person she could think of to see if the voice matched. It didn't.
"To the pit where those bodies were found. You need to see this." The static didn't help the male voice sound anymore familiar, but the roar of a powerful engine in the background had her thinking of a muscle car.
"Who is this?" she asked as she climbed into her car and fired up the engine. Pulling out of the lot, she turned towards the mountain highway. She would head up there regardless, but she wasn't about to be careless and charge in blind.
There was a silent pause, as if he debated answering.
"Officer Cade." The line cut out.
Well, that was weird. Most likely he just lost service-that he found any at all up there was a miracle in and of itself-but the timing was a little too uncanny. And Officer Cade? She'd never heard of him. There had recently been a decent batch of rookies from the academy, so it wasn't too surprising it was someone she didn't know. But Cade? She could have sworn it was Davis who was watching the crime scene while the last of the evidence was getting packed out. Or was it last night that he was on duty?
Honestly, the last few days were such a blur that she couldn't even say for sure what day it was anymore. No wonder she had no idea who was on dump-site duty.
Glancing at the phone in her hand, she debated calling Row. He may have had luck finding John. If not, then it was always beneficial to share leads in case something crazy happened. No, he was the one who took the case from her. She wasn't about to just give him the opportunity to take over again. Tossing the phone over to the passengers seat, she hit the gas, surging towards the looming mountains all dusted in white.
Chapter 8: Mustang
Chapter Text
You have to accept whatever comes and the only important thing is that you meet it with courage and with the best that you have to give. ~Eleanor Roosevelt
Prowl coasted down the road, keeping his scanners open to any sort of signal or sign as to where the human had been taken. But no matter how far he stretched them, all that came back was snow; the scout was gone. Barricade was as slippery as he was fast and that fact did nothing to alleviate the tactician's growing annoyance. Not only had the Decepticon been able to snatch a human from beneath Prowl's watch, but had left a blatant and taunting signal behind. A signal that had remained strong as it weaved through the streets but vanished the moment he reached the town's limits.
The Autobot vented as he passed the spot where his scanners lost the trail again. Nothing. The Decepticons were obviously behind the detective's old case, that much wasn't in question; but what were they doing with those humans? That was the real issue. Prowl accessed the files he had copied from the detective, but nothing substantial stood out, just as it hadn't before. The victims were all over the map; a few were relatives of NEST members, but he dismissed it as a factor. There were too few to be a true pattern. It couldn't be to use the captives as leverage; if he hadn't taken on the case then the Autobots wouldn't even have been aware that the 'Cons had hostages. So what were they up to? He revved as his processor shot into overdrive, flipping through a thousand possibilities for a purpose behind abducting and killing so many humans quietly. It was that secrecy that was truly throwing him. With Megatron gone, it left Starscream in charge and the seeker was anything but quiet and secretive.
So what was he up to and how could the Autobots stop it?
Prowl sent a data burst to Prime; with the Decepticons so foolishly dumping all of the deceased humans in one place, it just might give them an advantage in discovering their base. The sooner they found the base, the sooner they could end whatever half-planned scheme Starscream had come up with.
Optimus' response was prompt and to the point, "Ironhide and Major Lennox are on the way."
Why the commander always insisted on human involvement, Prowl would never understand. They didn't belong in this war; they were nearly defenseless against the Decepticons. But attempting to work out why the humans actually pushed to fight and why Optimus allowed it would only serve to overheat his processor.
The detective was a prime example though. Previously, Prowl had seen no harm in allowing her to continue with the case even after he knew of 'Con involvement; it wasn't as if she would have ever figured it out, after all. But Barricade blaring his signal and abducting her former partner was no random coincidence. Either Blake knew more than she should or the scout was taunting Prowl. Didn't matter, the human didn't belong in the middle of it, so he had removed her from the equation.
Now there was just Barricade to deal with at the moment and Prowl had the weapons specialist en route to assist in neutralizing that particular annoyance.
Pulling off the main road, Prowl drove off the blacktop and into a large field that would serve as an adequate place to meet with Ironhide. The blinding snow would obscure nearly all human vision, so he transformed. His wheels and axles needed the break and with this weather he wasn't about to be spotted. The government may have a conniption if they ever found out he walked about in the middle of the day, but the human leadership was riddled with unintelligent, gibbering fools. What they didn't know certainly couldn't hurt them anymore than their already astounding ignorance was.
Still, he remained watchful and ready to transform back into his alt mode at a split-second's notice.
Studying the landscape didn't tell him much. Despite his superior vision, the snow was too thick to pierce through any kind of distance and coming harder with every passing minute. It was curious, he took the moment to ponder, that the flakes could actually make the silence even quieter, every sharp edge smoothed, and every dash of color more vibrant.
He failed to see the appeal the humans had for the stuff.
Every flake sizzled as it touched his frame, melting on contact and leaving the water to run and drip down his armor. It was hardly more tolerable than sand.
Keeping his audios and sensors open to the roar of Ironhide's engine, Prowl accessed the locator beacon he'd placed on Detective Blake's SUV. While it remained astronomically unlikely, on the off chance that he did have need to find her again, it was only logical to ensure he could do so immediately. Despite the fact that in her emotionally compromised state she hadstolenhim, his other observations had pegged the detective as one of the intelligent few of the human population. So of course he fully expected the locator to come back parked right in front of her house where he'd left her.
It didn't.
His processor whirled as he attempted to reason justwhatshe was doing speeding away from the hospital in a direction that was most definitely nottowards home.
He revved, the sound cutting through the air like a hot blade. Obviously he had been aware of her tendency to ignore the orders of her superiors, but to blatantly go against his? Logically, she should have recognized his authority and accepted that he knew what was best, it was why he'd gone with the guise of a federal agent, after all. Instead she was going about as if she hadn't heard him clearly. Foolish, stubborn human.
And where was Ironhide for pit's sake? He was thirty-seven point fifteen seconds late! First an insubordinate human and now an Autobot who couldn't be punctual. Little wonder nothing substantial was getting accomplished lately.
A steadily growling roar on the wind cut his internal rant short. Finally! Prowl vented as the hulking black truck slowly began to appear down the road. He may be a total of eighty-two point nine seconds late, but now he had the firepower and the numbers on his side for the next time Barricade decided to show himself.
It was snowing heavier and apparently had been for some time in the hills. A thickening layer had coated everything save for a single set of tire tracks. Darcy followed those tracks, aiming her tires to ride directly over the impressions to give her the best chance of keeping traction. Visibility was quickly becoming terrible until she only knew she was still on the road because of the dark shapes of the trees on either side.
The radio only barely spit out a winter storm alert before losing signal and going to static. They'd made it to mid-January without their usual snowfall and now it was all coming for them at once. It was piling fast, obliterating the tracks and causing her tires to slip on the steep incline.
She passed the turn off where Tom's truck had been, the only evidence of its presence at one time the single piece of yellow crime scene tape stuck in a branch. The last jog up to the makeshift road they had created to get all of the bodies out was also the steepest and where the snow was deepest. The rear end swung and jerked as the tires tried, failed, then grabbed enough to gain a few feet before the process began again. Darcy growled as it made the long trek even longer.
Then her SUV would catch no more. All four tires spun uselessly, sliding the vehicle across the road but going nowhere. Cursing, she let off the gas and threw it in park. Spinning the tires anymore was just going to turn the snow under them to ice. If the ground was flat, she could try reversing and rocking out of the slick spot, but not on this hill. If she let it start to roll, it just might not stop until it was at the bottom of the road.
The white-out made it impossible to spot landmarks and the slow going had completely thrown off her timing. She couldn't tell exactly how far from the dumping grounds she was. Heaving an annoyed sigh, she knew there were only two options; turn back or get out and walk. She knew she couldn't afford to turn back now. Whatever Officer Cade wanted her to see had to be crucial, but walking out into the swirling snow was dangerous; it wouldn't take much to get turned around and lost if she unintentionally left the road prematurely.
There really was only one option. Tugging on her winter boots and thickest jacket, she stepped out into the snow. The effect was immediate. Cold wind pierced through every layer of clothing like it was nothing and the snow stuck, melted from her body heat, and soaked through her jeans. Ten yards from the SUV and her teeth were chattering as she hunched forward in a poor attempt to block the wind and conserve what heat she could. The thickest jacket in the car was definitely not the one she needed out here. Why the hell hadn't she grabbed the snowboarding coat before leaving the house?
Thirty yards and she was seriously questioning the wisdom of coming out here. How was she supposed to find anything? The only reason she could even see her car was because she'd left the headlights on.
The wind was literally howling, muting the creaking and groaning of the frozen trees. She was blind, deaf, and numb. This was ridiculous. She was risking her own life for something that may or may not be important to the case. Whatever it was, she could have Cade give her a detailed description when he got off duty,ifhe was even still up here, somewhere.
Mind made up, she turned to head back, but..what was that? A flash of color? Red and blue. The realization was like a slap of warmth. Cruiser lights! Cade or whoever was up here had lit a beacon for her to follow. The lights were reflecting off of everything, but its source was just sharp and bright enough to be easy to pinpoint. Another sixty yards she had to shuffle through the snow and like a ship in a raging storm, she drifted straight for the safety of the lighthouse in the dark.
The lights led her true, straight to the two cruisers parked several spaces apart. The first was the standard Crown Victoria and half buried. Pushing her way to it, Darcy brushed off the snow coating the rear quarter panel. Black paint proudly boasting 558 proved that it was Davis' patrol car. So where was he?
The only tracks leading to his cruiser that she could see were her own, so she kept going, working around the car towards the still-flashing lights of what had to be Cade's cruiser. A black trunk came into view first, standing out darkly against the storm of white. Walking up to the car made her pause; 643 wasn't a number she recognized as belonging to her department and not a single flake of snow hid the too-expensive body of the Mustang. Just how hot did these muscle cars run?
Moving up to the front of the interceptor, she pressed a hand against the hood. It was still toasty warm despite there being no signs of life. No tracks led away from the door but neither was there anyone sitting inside.
Where the hell were these guys?
"Ow!" Darcy ripped her hand away from the hood, shaking it out in an attempt to relieve some of the pain that had just shot through her palm. It felt like something hadstabbedher. Blood quickly coated her hand, proving that she actually had been. There was nothing on the hood that could be the culprit though. Even double-checking showed it just as smooth and flawless as it had been before, except for the spot of her blood now shining on the black paint.
The detective backed away from the car. After this whole case was over, she was not going to step close to another muscle car ever again.
A muffled groan cut through the snowfall and the break in the wind. Darcy whirled around, eyes frantically searching for the source. The storm was disorienting as it was blinding. Every muscle tensed tightly as she held as still as possible, straining her ears for any sort of sound other than the wind.
There! A gurgle that reverberated all around but wasdefinitelycoming from that direction. She was pretty sure it was towards the meadow and the empty dumping grounds, but she couldn't be entirely sure. Slowly she crept away from the Mustang and towards the sound.
Wind blasted her face, forcing her eyes to release a torrent of hydrating tears that then froze on her cheeks. Only the flashing lights at her back kept any true sense of direction. Ice bit at her injured hand and burned her lungs with every breath. She didn't know it was possible to be this cold, but still she pressed on, pushing numb legs to keep moving.
Rasping gurgles reached her ears and she froze mid-step. It was close now, had to be only feet away, yet still she could see nothing. Keeping every step cautious, she moved forward, her injured hand sliding down to pull her gun. Blood made the grip slick and she gripped tighter, wincing as pain fired through her palm.
Where was Officer Cade? He was the one who had called her up here in the first place! And where was Davis? And why in the seven hells did she come up here alone? It had been a stupid idea. She should have at least called Row oranybodyand told them where she was going.
Darcy frowned at the thought of the agent. He'd crossed a line and could take his authority and fancy Charger and shove it.
And yet, even her pride could admit she would feel better if both were up here with her right now. But they weren't, which meant she was on her own and needed to prove why he was an idiot for giving her the boot.
Resolve strengthened, she started forward again with no recollection of having stopped. Where was the source of that noise? She could have walked right by it without even realizing it.
Or into it, she thought grimly as her boot hit something firmer than snow. Dropping down next to it, she holstered her gun the moment her eyes caught the blue patch under the white, cursing as she had to physically rip her hand off the grip which spouted another wave of pain and blood. Packing a handful of snow into her palm, Darcy shoved the distraction to the back of her mind and focused on clearing the snow from the blue patch. A jacket slowly revealed itself, followed by a navy shirt and a badge.
It was Davis.
"Damn it!" she swore, quickly moving up to uncover his face. His eyes were open, blank and clouding over, forever staring off into the sky. He was gone.
Darcy dipped her head in a silent scream of rage. Then she noticed the blood the snow was trying so hard to hide. It covered his upper half, surrounding his body in a sadistic halo and dripped lazily down the side of his face. He hadn't been dead long. She'djustmissed him. If she'd gotten there just a minute earlier she could have donesomething, even if it was just not letting him die alone.
Reality knocked her back, forcing her to sit up and take stock of his wounds. The minor gash on his forehead hadn't killed him, couldn't have. His upper chest was bloody but the cuts there were shallow, almost….torturous. Her hands clenched sharply, the pain of her palm only fueling the anger.
First they take John, then they brutally torture and kill Davis. This was a direct attack towards police, towards her department, and whoever was behind it was going to pay dearly for it. They had opened the gates of hell and Darcy vowed to be on the frontline of the assault.
The wind shifted, pulsing for a moment and sending chills straight to the bone and back again. The detective couldn't pinpoint why, but every nerve stood on edge waiting for….something. She sat frozen, barely daring to breath and preparing for whatever was about to appear.
Nothing did.
Another minute and still nothing. Blowing out a breath, she shook her head. This damn mountain was getting to her and the blinding snow was setting her on edge. Better to get off it as soon as possible. But...she couldn't just leave Davis like this. Brushing snow off the rest of him, her muscles locked tight as she revealed his legs. They were crushed,flattenedfrom the waist down. She jolted back, losing her balance and falling on her rear. His pants were shredded down the seams because his legs hadsplit open. What should be bone and muscle were piles of mush mixed with flaps of skin. Whatever had crushed him had to have tremendous force behind it; the kind of force required to rip a door off of a car.
Whoever had taken John had murdered Davis. They would have no day in court if she could help it.
A lull in the gusting wind dropped the snow quietly, clearing the view for just a brief glimpse. Darcy's gut flipped as her brain struggled to come to terms with what her eyes were seeing. She couldn't believe it. She didn't want to believe it. It should be possible that a group of people could be so soulless, that cruel, thatevil. For just a few yards from where Davis lay sat a mound, one that she knew had not been there before today. A dark, unnatural lump that consisted of no fewer than six bodies. Whoever was dumping the victims before had just blatantly done so again and killed a cop to do so.
Darcy's heart pounded as she stood on shaking legs and stepped around Davis. She didn't want to know if he was, but she had to see if John was there. Swallowing hard as she reached the bodies, she struggled to fight down the urge to be sick. There was no smell, no bloating, and rigor mortis was only visible in two. They had all died within the last day.
It just kept getting worse and worse. It wasn't going to end until the ones behind it were ended. They killed and dumped seven people after the extent of their crimes had already been discovered. Like they didn't care, like they knew they could get away with it.
What if it wasn't the extent of their evil, though? What if this wasn't the only dumping ground?
Whatever the case, she had to get somewhere with this case and fast, before her whole jurisdiction became a ghost town. How and why the chief had so far kept it all quiet she didn't know, but this was quickly becoming the deadliest place to be.
Four women were in the pile, two of which she recognized as having gone missing from two counties over. Two men, one she didn't know and the other faced away from her. Her body trembled as she slowly crept around the mound, mustering every scrap of strength she had left to deal with whoever she might see. Releasing the breath she was holding, she felt guilty for the relief that flooded her. It wasn't John. It was Kallen Goodman, the head ranger who hadn't even been reported missing.
A nagging thought itched at the back of her mind; why was she the one to discover this? Better yet, where was the officer that had called her up here in the first place? The man she didn't know in the pile wasn't in police clothing and appeared too old to be a rookie. And why had he calledher, on her personal phone no less?
Damn it all, she was an idiot! A complete and utter idiot! Whirling around, she pulled her gun and quickly scanned her surroundings, cursing herself all the while. Here she was, a detective making rookie mistakes! Going out to an unsecured location by herself, in the middle of a storm, without alerting anyone, and then not calling for backup the moment she noticed something was wrong, those were mistakes only cadets fresh out of the academy should make.
Reaching for her radio, she swore again as nothing but static blared out of it, even on the emergency stations that always had reception. Pulling out her phone, she barely withheld from chucking it at finding it dead. It shouldn't even be possible, it had almost a full charge when she left the hospital!
Her only choice was to leave the bodies and make for her SUV and the bottom of the mountain. Priority one had to be getting some sort of help up here and then finding this Cade. At this point it was impossible to tell for sure if he was part of it or another victim. As she trekked back towards the flashing lights of his cruiser, she recalled the brief phone call with him and couldn't ignore the creeping suspicion. There was just something about how it all worked out that was too uncanny to be coincidence.
She needed to get off the mountainnow.
Another pulse rocked through the air as the black of the Mustang came into view through the snow. Briefly, she entertained the thought of taking the muscle car down, at least to her SUV. She shot down that train of thought immediately. It may run hot but it was still low slung, it wasn't going to be able to move much.
And if Cadewasinvolved, then it smelled just a little too much like a trap.
Getting back to her SUV was her only chance. Putting the lights to her back as she passed the pair of cruisers, Darcy started down the steep hill. Eventually she would see her headlights. If only the damn snow would stop falling.
The metal of her gun was freezing, seeping into her fingers and locking them in place. She needed to get back to her car, back to warmth and safety and damn it allwhere was the damn thing?There! Her pace quickened as she caught the ghost of the outline of her muddy SUV. Why weren't the headlights still on? She could have sworn she left those on…
Keeping the gun clenched tight and held up, her other hand fumbled into her pocket for her keys. She was almost there and out of here.
Several hundred horses roared to life behind her. Spinning, she raised her gun halfway, unsure of whether or not she needed to aim at the Mustang easing down the hill towards her. Had Cade been there the whole time? No, he wasn't in the car when she'd first gone by. Had he been out in the snow and they passed each other without knowing? Possibly, but the hairs on the back of her neck standing erect didn't believe it for a second. She raised, leveling the sight on the grill.
The powerful engine revved several times as if in challenge, sounding more like a growl with every turn. Tires spun, catching traction and throwing the car forward like a snarling dog. Despite having to plow through the thick snow, the Mustang was gaining speed and charging straight for her. Her hand clenched as she found where the radiator would be, pulling with all her might and willing her frozen fingers to move. The gun went off with aBANG, again and again as Darcy tried to hit that sweet spot that would incapacitate the car. All it did was send up sparks as the engine snarled louder. Changing her aim, she struck the windshield. If the car couldn't be put out of commission, then the driver would have to be. Even if it meant potentially blowing a lead in a suspect.
Panic flooded her as the glass stayed perfectly intact and several shots later her gun clicked empty. With a shout, she dove off into the trees as the Mustang bore down on her, grazing her leg as she just barely missed being leveled.
It continued its reckless charge, turning at the last second to spin and slam full body into the side of her SUV, rocking the vehicle up on two wheels and collapsing the driver's side in. With a speed and control that shouldn't be possible in a car that low in snow, the interceptor shot away from her damaged car, pulled another one-eighty, and barreled into the rear quarter panel, shoving the SUV out of the way as it passed and escaped down the road.
Darcy shook from where she still sat in the snow, her breath coming in painful gasps as her heart tried to pound its way out of her chest. Blood pumped hot in her veins but her body refused to move for some time as she waited, waited for the Mustang to come back and finish her off. Her bullets had done nothing to it and her gun was empty. She was defenseless and every muscle trembled as the roaring horsepower echoed through the snow from every direction.
She couldn't see it anymore, could only hear the growling coming closer before moving away again. Even when it finally fell silent, the engine still roared in her ears until she couldn't be sure what was real and what wasn't.
She was alive, but if she kept sitting there it might not be for long. Scrambling to her feet, every move felt sluggish and slow even as she plowed through the snow as fast as she could. Her frozen limbs only cooperated for a moment before failing, sending her to crash against the hood of her wrecked SUV. Struggling, she pulled herself around the car, yanked open the passenger door, and threw herself in.
A lump lodged itself firmly in her throat when she saw the interior damage. The driver's side was totaled completely. This vehicle was going nowhere. Jamming the key in the ignition, she tried turning it on for the heat at the very least, but the engine wouldn't turn. Frantically, she tried the laptop and CB. Both dead, both as useless as her phone. She couldn't get help, she couldn't get heat, her injured hand throbbed with every heartbeat, she was out of bullets, and there was a maniac in a muscle car out there.
For the first time in a long time, Darcy felt utterly helpless and terrified for her life. The cold was seeping the last of the feeling from her legs and arms. She was up shit creek without a paddle and without hope of any rescue.
Her body sagged against the seat as the adrenaline began to subside, beaten back by the exhaustion and cold that refused to be shaken off. She couldn't move, not even to release the death grip her hand still had on her empty gun. The shakes began to lessen, darkness encroaching on the edges of her vision.
"Come on, stay awake," she mumbled to herself, fighting her body's want for oblivion. The car was easily the same temperature as outside. It wasn't safe to fall asleep. It wasn't safe to be out here.
Trying to give her mind something to do, she started to recite the list of all the names of people who'd gone missing. A blanket, she needed a blanket. There wasn't one. Just a pair of lighter coats. Coats would do. Coats would help. Had to help. She moved in slow motion, wading through thick sludge to reach to the back seat and grab the jackets. Twice she dropped them. Finally got them over her chest. So cold. She struggled with the gun's slide to snap it back down into place. It was still useless, but it wasn't obviously empty now.
"A monster," she slurred to herself, blinking harshly, willing her eyes to stay open even as they slipped closed. "In a Mustang, that's what….what Andrew was trying to….to say."
Not even fear of it coming back was powerful enough against the cold and the darkness.
Chapter 9: Enemy of My Enemy
Chapter Text
A memory is what is left when something happens that does not completely unhappen. ~Edward de Bono
The first thing that bleached through Darcy's clouded mind was warmth; blessed, sweet warmth. It pierced through the cold still clinging to her skin and surrounded her on all sides, enveloping her in a way that sang of sleep. She wanted nothing more than to give in to the call, to let her mind drift off again. It wouldn't be difficult; the abyss was right there, open and waiting. All she had to do was give in. She would have had sound not returned to her then.
Muffled voices were talking in low tones, too quiet to make out, but she didn't recognize them or the loud engine rumbling in the background. Her body tensed, fingers clenching. Though her hand briefly lit up with pain, she was glad to feel the gun still firmly in her grip. It didn't matter if she was out of ammo; whoever had her didn't know that and very few would be foolish enough to try calling the bluff.
Her mind demanded immediate action, but she forced herself to stay still, to keep up the sleeping facade so that the rest of her body could wake fully. A thousand needles pricked her legs, her arms stiff and heavy under an unfamiliar weight. Raising a finger, she lightly brushed the thing overtop her; it was a blanket apparently.
As her senses slowly shook the fog, she turned her focus on the conversation going to her left. She could make out the words of the two males now, but strung together as they were, they made little sense. What did signals from a barricade and blowing it up have to do with anything? Her brows pinched slightly and she kept to the guise of sleeping.
"Prowl won't be happy about this," the younger voice sighed. What kind of name was a verb? Callsign for a ringleader maybe? Which meant she wasn't picked up by friendlies, even if they wanted her alive for now. Even a disgraced detective was solid leverage in a standoff.
"He's never happy," the older, much deeper voice rumbled. There was a mechanical ring to it, like it was coming through a phone. Good, that meant there was only one she had to deal with. "She's awake."
The shock of his words briefly stalled her, but the gig was up, no use pretending any longer. Flinging the blanket to the floor, she twisted to face the driver while raising her gun in one motion, pressing the barrel to his head before he even had the chance to look in her direction.
"Stop the car," she demanded, nudging the gun against his temple to emphasize its presence.
"Okay, just take it easy." His tone was low and soft as he raised one hand off the steering wheel in surrender. Darcy braced herself for him to slam on the brakes, but it never came. Instead he eased the vehicle to a stop, taking no advantage of the rather obvious opportunity to throw her off balance.
"Alright," he started once he'd thrown the truck in park, "you can put the gun down; we're not going to hurt you."
He had a handsome face, Darcy noted, all tan and smooth skin that fit seamlessly with the army fatigues. Too bad for him his words weren't not so well put together.
She stared at him, watching his micro expressions as she kept the gun firmly in place. "We?"
The expression flashed over his face for barely half a second. Had Darcy not seen it so many times before, she might have missed it. It was the brief grimace of one realizing too late a slip up.
"Myself and the people I work for," he recovered. "We want to help you."
He looked her straight in the eye, never once breaking the contact to look at the 9mm still leveled at his face.
"Help how?" she asked warily. It was just a little too convenient, her car being rendered useless just in time for this guy she'd never seen before to come swooping in for the rescue. After all, no one but Cade had known she was up there. She frowned at the thought, steadying her arm; perhaps thiswasCade.
"I have access to more resources than you do. I want to help you stop the psychopaths that are murdering people up here," the man responded.
No, his voice was nothing like Cade's had been. Sure he could have used a voice modifying over the phone, but the tone was too different to be the same person. Still, how did he know about the case? The chief had done a remarkable job of keeping even the rumor of a mass murder discovery quiet from the public and media. The victims' families knew the gist, but not the extent, not the location of the dumping grounds.
"Who are you?' she demanded, casting a quick glance out the windshield. They were in some kind of large truck and almost to the base of the mountain. She'd been out for a decent amount of time, but thankfully not too long.
The beast of a truck's engine hitched, sputtering out a growl that was eerily similar to the Mustang's. The army man set his hand on the steering wheel but made no further move to put it back into gear. If anything, the gesture looked almost like a reassuring pat more than a random movement.
"Major William Lennox. I've worked with Agent Row for the last few years, he's the one who called me in."
Darcy stared hard at him, looking foranysign that he was lying. Row hadn't known where she was going, after all, but the only one who knew Row's name was the chief andhesure as hell wasn't calling in extra reinforcements. Maybe he really was military, maybe he wasn't, but she could find no tells of a lie.
Slowly, she lowered her gun. Either he was telling the truth or her enemies had really been doing their homework. Her arm had been about to start shaking from the effort of keeping the gun up though, her exhausted body betraying her, and she wasn't going to take the chance of showing that current weakness to this stranger. So she returned the gun to her lap before the tremors were noticeable.
"So what branch you in? And don't tell me Army, the FBI wouldn't be involved with them and Row doesn't exactly have the….demeanor for working with grunts." She honestly fought to keep her soured opinion of the agent out of the voice. It wouldn't help her chances if this was a potential ally to insult one of his friends and if it wasn't, well then it could be a test of how well the Major knew him.
He snorted, putting the truck back into gear and starting back down the road when she gave no protest. Tapping an unfamiliar patch on his shoulder, he told her, "NEST, we're a global military alliance focused on tracking and preventing terrorist attacks."
That name was familiar, why was it familiar? It tugged at her memory, just out of reach. Had she heard it somewhere, or read it? The failed recall was definitely going to nag at her.
Mentally shaking herself, she decided it wasn't critically important to figure that out right this second. Wherever she had heard or seen it before, the black patch was foreign. But the little red insignia below the NEST patch was something shehadseen before. Even if the meaning behind it had eluded her, the tribal design was a logo she had memorized since the moment she first laid eyes on it. It was the department symbol Row had on his Charger.
"And this is for?" She gestured towards the robotic sigil. Admittedly, she'd never asked the agent, but he hadn't been too keen on answering any sort of question that didn't relate directly to the case. The soldier was already sharing, might as well push for all the answers she could get.
The beast of a truck rumbled as it lurched onto the paved roads and Lennox took the moment to delay answering.
Finally he either decided to tell her or had worked out how he wanted to answer without really answering. "It's for a side division of NEST, the big guns if you will."
Right, so talk for 'this is all super classified and this is the approved public comments I'm allowed to make'. It wasn't a victory of gleaning information, she was hearing exactly what he had probably practiced a thousand times. He wouldn't have made Major otherwise. That little sigil most likely actually stood for 'special clearance to know all the good stuff' and was used to know what could be said in front of who even on their own base.
Damn, that sounded ridiculous even in her own head. Yet she couldn't quite shake it as being too crazy to not be plausible. Supposedly this was aglobalmilitary alliance.
"Row isn't FBI." It was not a question, not when his car clearing sported the insignia for the division of 'big guns'. Definitely explained that superiority complex and the high tech car, but that did beg a rather large question. Why in the heck had a global anti-terrorist military faction been interested in her case so much to send in said 'big gun' before the bodies had even been found?
She watched Lennox's expression as he stared out at the road ahead, lips pursed as he most likely tried to sort through his scripted responses. His pause was answer enough, but he did gain a few points for giving what actually rang as a half-truth. "No, he's not. We use the FBI as a cover when we need to get in somewhere quietly. Row has been after a...dirty cop who we know is part of a large terrorist cell located in the US. His leads led him here."
Well that was why her call to the bureau had been responded to so quickly, he'd needed a way in and she'd opened the door. The reasoning was sound and despite understanding thewhy, she still didn't like being lied to; nor was she about to forgive him for attempting to boot her off her own case with the excuse of her being 'emotionally compromised'.
"Would that corrupt cop happen to drive a Mustang and call himself Cade?"
The result was immediate even if fleeting as Lennox quickly schooled his face. He glanced at her for a moment that was borderline too long for someone who was driving, resignation finally settling in. Darcy figured she was already involved now, might as well jump in as far as she could now.
Lennox sighed, fingers flexing on the steering wheel. "Yeah that's him and he is extremely dangerous. You shouldn't face him on your own."
His voice was chiding but there was an underlying note to it that said Darcy should count herself extremely lucky to be alive. She shrugged, not allowing her mind to wander down that particular bunny trail for now. "I never saw him, just his car."
"He uses it as his weapon. He hit you with a minor EMP, which is why none of your electronics or car worked."
"What do they want, anyway?" And who even used an EMP as a first response weapon? Then again, this guy was either a corrupt cop or posing as a cop with a bulletproof car, who just so happened to be being hunted by a military group kept fairly hush-hush. At this point, she should just start expecting the unexpected.
Lennox shrugged, as if the plans of the terrorists weren't that special. "World domination mostly."
Okay, she wasn't expectingthatunexpected. Darcy stared at him in disbelief. Sure a lot of groups had wacky plans, even tried to take over a country or two, maybe a continent throughout history, but theworld? "Isn't that just some Hollywood cliche? Who honestly believes that would even be possible?"
People tended to not like foreign invaders overthrowing their governments and the world was a very big place. But the soldier did not laugh, did not change his expression except for the slight grimace that wordlessly stated that the possibility wasn't as far fetched as she might want to believe. Despite the constant temperature of the truck's cab, Darcy found herself fighting off a sharp chill.
"They have the numbers and the weapons. It's why NEST was started, to defend the planet against them."
It was almost too much like a corny alien movie to be true, all they were missing was the sexy damsel to worry for the main badass. She wassonot filling that role.
Lennox was showing no tells of a lie though. Either he was killer at poker or it was the god's-honest truth. The Mustang had had more than just a few expensive upgrades and so did Row's Charger though, which lent credence to the latter.
Damn.
"So that's why Row's car is so high tech then, with the scanners and such." She was genuinely curious as much as she was digging using the good 'ole curious damsel routine. Hey, just because she refused to play the whole role didn't mean she was above taking inspiration from the part.
He looked startled for a flash, quickly followed with a bite of annoyance. "Uh, yeah. High tech to battle high tech; though those special features aren't supposed to be used in front of civilians."
For some reason he stared down at the steering wheel, as if he could somehow communicate with someone through it. Or to the truck itself. Honestly, at this point anything this NEST group did or had probably made little sense in the outside world. Her eyes flint quickly around the truck within her line of sight; perhaps this was one of those high tech cars too. Everything looked like a normal, new, diesel truck. Aside, she noted, from the tribal face impressed into the steering wheel. She mulled the possibilities over as silence stretched across the cab. Was the tech voice activated? No, Row hadn't been there when his car scanned her and John's Crown Vic. Remote then? That couldn't be it, Row hadn't even taken the keys out of the ignition, let alone had any device in his hands to control the car. He could have prevented her from taking it to begin with if he'd had a remote in his pocket. Was...was the car self-thinking? Robotics was getting closer to true artificial intelligence and Lennox had all but told her their technology was advanced beyond what the public knew was possible. She shifted uncomfortably. A self thinking car was...a disturbing notion. Sure there were cars that parked and unparked themselves, but to know when and what to scan or to eject an EMP burst? Unbidden, the filmChristinestarted replaying in her mind.
No matter how much she wanted to know-or didn't, she hadn't quite decided yet-Darcy kept her theories and further questions to herself. Not that she thought she could actually get anything more if she wanted to, Lennox had clammed up after the stare down with the truck. She wasn't going to be able to get a thing more out of him, at least not now.
So she turned to stare out the windshield, surprised to see the turn for the precinct so soon. It hadn't felt like they were driving that fast and the snow at this lower elevation should have called for at least a little wariness. The one plow the town had certainly hadn't come through yet. Then again, that Mustang hadn't had a problem even when her SUV had been unable to move. High tech also meant super-traction evidently.
She blinked as they passed the precinct without slowing. "Where are we going?"
"Row is going to meet us somewhere a bit more private. Classified information and all." He flashed her what was probably supposed to be a comforting smile, his eyes flashing down to her lap.
"Uh huh…" Darcy sighed, flexing her stiff fingers. The rollercoaster had already started, there was no jumping ship now.
"You can holster your gun now. Unless you plan on pistol-whipping me at some point." The humorous note to his tone and the smirk pulling at his lip had her internally cursing. No wonder he'd barely reacted when she'd shoved it in his face; he knew the gun was empty.
"Would if I could," she replied with a half shrug, holding up the bloody hand that was all but glued to the grip. The miniscule shifting of her palm was enough to tear the weak clot, sending blood to dribble down her wrist.
"How did that happen?" he frowned.
"Apparently advanced cars have knives hiding in the hood." She hissed as the fresh air reached the wound and stung sharply. Some hot water would be welcomed right about now, even if just for the sake of getting the gun out of her hand.
Looking down at her lap forced her to finally take attention to the state of her clothes. Blood coated her sleeves and pants, her own mixed with that of Davis in a stained mass of red. All in all, she looked a mess and more than felt like one too.
The silence was semi-awkward and that bothered the detective more than the fact Lennox appeared to be driving straight for her house without any directions. If she couldn't get more information on her enemies, then maybe she could weasel something out about the man who had barged rather unceremoniously into her life just a few days ago. Damn, had it only been a few days? It felt like a lifetime.
"So what's Row's job in NEST? Other than pretending to be a federal agent." And being a pretentious bastard.
Lennox shifted, shooting her a look without turning his head away from the road. "We all have multiple duties, but he's pretty much our tactician and enforcer."
"Enforcer?" she echoed. A tactician made sense, it fit him and his stoic character. But an enforcer? Wasn't that more of a mafia position? Just what did he enforce?
"He's our one-man MP. When someone breaks the rules in our group, he's the judge and jury." NowthatDarcy had no difficulty believing. That kind of power would agree with the man. Lennox gave a sympathetic wince as they pulled onto a familiar residential street. Unfortunately, you're about to get a firsthand experience of that side. He doesn't like when his orders are disobeyed."
Darcy rolled her eyes and slumped in the seat as the truck turned into her driveway. She didn't bother with wondering how he knew where she lived. There was a much more pressing matter in the form of the pacing man in front of the Charger parked neatly in her SUV's spot.
Row's face was twisted into the infamous Karl Urban scowl as he moved back and forth; looking up in her direction only after the truck had parked and shut off. The look made her want to sink back into the seat further, but damn it all, she didn't do anything wrong! If he hadn't tried to take her case from her then she wouldn't have had to go up alone. Besides, it's not like it was her fault there was a homicidal terrorist on the mountain. Nope, Row had no right to be pissed with her and she wanted to hear nothing from him unless he had good news on John.
"It's better to just get it over with as soon as possible. Trust me, he gets worse if you put it off," Lennox advised. The sympathy on his face told her he'd probably faced Row's anger himself at one point or two.
Darcy was still disinclined to believe him. Besides, he'd had to wait until she'd come off the mountain, what was one more minute? She turned to the soldier at the thought, "How did you know where I was?"
Lennox didn't look at her, watching Row with a slightly nervous shift. "That question would be better suited for Row, he's the one who told us where you were."
The detective turned to look at said man and winced. Row had stopped his pacing and stood in front of the truck's hood, blue-eyed glare locked right on her.
"Out of the frying pan…." she muttered as she forced her free hand to the door handle. The door swung open with almost suspicious ease. Advanced tech, she reminded herself. Actually climbing out of the truck proved infinitely more difficult. Though warmed by the heat of the cab, her body was stiff and heavy. Every movement was exhausting and slow and the freezing bite of the outside air did not help the lead in her bones or her mood.
Using the open door as a crutch, she managed to slide herself out and to the ground. The ground that turned out to be much further than she had originally estimated. If not for her somewhat steady hold on the door, she would have ended up on her face for sure. Her legs shook with the effort, the cold seeping alarmingly back into her skin. New plan then: boiling hot shower, then sleep,maybedeal with Row in the morning.
Shutting the truck's door, she inwardly cursed at finding the tactician most inconveniently between her and the front door. Bastard definitely did that on purpose.
Using the truck for support, she slowly made her way towards the man. Maybe, just maybe, he would take in her condition and leave the lecture for tomorrow.
No such luck.
Figures.
Scowl in place, arms crossed, back ramrod straight and stiff, he cut an imposing and intimidating figure. If her brain was not so frazzled, it might have actually worked.
"What were you doing up there after I made clear you were relieved of duty from the case?" his tone was clipped and sharp, definitely pissed. Darcy was half-tempted to tell him where to shove it as all of the roiling emotions of the last few days began to boil together and build into frustration and anger.
What the hell, he was an ass and she'd already started digging her own hole. "Sight-seeing."
Row was not amused, but she was fairly sure Lennox did not actually cough like that.
"What do you think? I was following a lead," she snapped when the faux-agent only continued to stare at her.
"And just what kind of lead would you have been able to find? That son of a…."Furthermore, going up there alone was ignorantly moronic. Any sort ofleadyou found should have been brought directly to me, especially given your status with the case."
Darcy matched his scowl. If her limbs had had the strength and the soldier had not been there, she might have hit him. Preferably hard enough to break his too-perfect nose. Fate, it seemed, had been against her from day one. Her body ached and protested every move while Lennox had only moved closer.
She settled for growling at him, "And I told you that you couldn't take me off. Iinvitedyou into this. So I still hold the authority over it, secret military organization or not. You have no power over me. Besides, I've met the corrupt cop, curtain's been lifted, cat's out of the bag."
Row narrowed his eyes at that, shooting a dark look to the truck and Lennox.
"You never did say how both of you ended up there at the same time," the Major stated as he stepped up next to Row.
Darcy bristled at the tag-team. She was cold and tired and sick of finding bodies.
"He dumped more bodies and killed Davis to do it. I made it up before he had time to leave." Davis! She mentally cursed. She'd forgotten to call the precinct to alert them to what she'd found after getting back into cell range. They wouldn't be able to get up there right now, but the department and his family deserved to know. Fumbling with her phone and otherwise ignoring whatever Row was starting to say, she swore again when still it refused to turn on. Her personal cell revealed itself to be in the same predicament.
"The EMP probably destroyed your phones," Lennox supplied as if it was a fairly common occurrence. Given what he did and who he was fighting, it just might be.
"The department needs to know about Davis and the other bodies."
"No need," Row cut in, "our own team will deal with it. Your CSI's would not be able to find anything useful. Now why did you go in the first place?"
There was no condescending or demeaning inflection to his voice, just calm and factual; which made it all the more insulting. Darcy would never later admit it, but she lost her grip on her spiking anger and growled at him.
"Listen Bucko," she leaned forward and jabbed him in the chest with her empty hand, "we may not have all the fancy tech you do, but we work with what we got and we do our job even when arrogant pricks try to screw us over."
Lennox quite suddenly was having trouble breathing properly while Row's scowl somehow managed to deepen even further. He opened his mouth but Darcy was done listening. She was cold, in pain, and her sanity had just reached its limits.
"If you want your own teams to handle the scene, fine, but you aren't getting rid of me until I knowmypeople are safe." With that she pushed past him, or attempted to anyway. He was a solid wall and she stumbled into him more than anything. Refusing to let it affect her, she continued on to the door, shoving it open and throwing over her shoulder as she stepped inside, "Now bugger off until morning."
Chapter 10: Is My Friend
Notes:
Little bit different this time around, we get to hang out with Prowl for this chapter!
Chapter Text
There is no refuge from memory and remorse in this world. The spirits of our foolish deeds haunt us, with or without repentance. ~Gilbert Parker
Prowl could only stare after the detective in disbelief as she disappeared into the house. Where had she gotten the audacity to say such things to him? Ironhide and Major Lennox were quite blatantly laughing, which made no sense to him. Just what was so humorous about the human talking to him so? He was not arrogant, he was smarter and he knew it; it wasn't his fault that she didn't recognize the fact. He had millions of years of experience and a processor more advanced that even that of his fellow Autobots. There was no arrogance, only knowledge, which showed him her presence in the 'case' was completely unnecessary. And a prick? Sure parts of his form were sharp, but he was not prickly. Human insults were hardly appropriate and her comments had no basis.
The continued disrespect to his authority was another issue altogether. How was he supposed to get his job done when he had an organic version of the twins he had to keep taking care of? Lennox was already one human too many, he didn't have need of another; let alone a belligerent one.
Ironhide was still chuckling over the comm as Lennox climbed back into his cab and the two Autobots pulled out of the driveway, Prowl's hologram disappearing with apopas the projector finally gave out, the motor smoking from overuse.
"There is nothing humorous about the situation, Ironhide. She is constantly disobeying my commands and the disrespect is intolerable,"he rumbled over the comm to silence the larger mech's sniggers.
He failed to see why Ironhide continued chuckling or saw fit to broadcast Lennox's laugh through the comms as well. If their roles were reversed, he knew for certain the weapons specialist would certainlynotbe laughing.
"I like her,"Ironhide supplied.
That tactician might have rolled his optics were he not in vehicle mode. He settled for a puff from his vents. "She should be removed from involvement immediately."
Logically, Ironhide should agree with him, but Prowl was fully aware of the truck's appreciation of some of the humans, and so was half prepared for a disagreement. He wasn't expecting the black behemoth to let out a vent and agree with him. "She should be, but we can't."
Prowl pulled himself up alongside the truck as they patrolled the emptying streets. Snow was piling faster than human plows would be able to clear. It wouldn't be long before the two Autobots would be the only ones on the road. "It is reckless and illogical to keep her presence around. We both know the Decepticons are behind all of this. Barricade has already taken a human in this town. Major Lennox knows what he is up against; it will do no good to bring in another human who is unprepared for what she will end up facing."
The humans already failed so miserably against the Decepticons unless they were in large enough numbers and with their heaviest artillery. An officer with nothing but a 9mm would be helpless; a distraction that could not be afforded this late in the war. Not when the end was so close.
"The 'Cons know she's with you. They'll target her just as they have Will and Sam."Judging by the complete lack of reaction from the soldier, Prowl reasoned Ironhide had silenced the comm to keep the conversation just between them.
"I am not her Guardian; there is no reason for the Decepticons to target her. She is an insignificant human caught in something too big for her. We must distance from her as soon and as much as possible."Targeting the officer would get the 'Cons nothing, just as targeting their other victims hadn't been getting them anywhere. Not in the fighting, at least.
"But the 'Cons know you've been around her. Your signal was on her and now Barricade's is all over her and her totaled car."Prowl's engine sputtered as he processed this new information. He hadn't bothered scanning her since this morning and hadn't given a second thought to his own coding radiating from her. After all, his signature suppressors were all on the outside of his frame, he'd never had to worry about the things that came in contact with the interior of his vehicle mode. Barricade's setup was much the same, and since she was very much alive there was no way she had gotten inside Barricade's vehicle mode. Which meant any of the 'Con's coding left behind was done intentionally.
Ironhide continued, the growling lit to his voice growing stronger with the need to blow apart some kind of enemy. "Barricade had the chance to take her or kill her and he didn't. But he did take her ex-partner, which means that youandher are his targets."
"He's tauntin' ya Prowlers,"a new voice cut into the supposedly private comm line. Prowl barely avoided driving himself off the road while Ironhide stalled, swerving just in time to avoid a passing car.
"Jazz?"both mechs questioned. Prowl's battle programming kicked into overdrive. It wasn't Jazz, it couldn't be. He was dead, ripped in half; his spark had been crushed by Megatron. This was an imposter, some kind of sick trick, most likely Soundwave. He threw up every firewall he had, determined to shove the intruder out with as much pain as possible.
Everything he threw was avoided with a practiced ease, slipping around and past his defenses instead of taking them head on. No one was that good, no one except...but it couldn't be! "Come on Prowlers! Don't be like that! It's the one and only! 'Ole Ratch' fixed meh right up!"
Prowl's processor ran hard, flickering in and out as the dead mech's heavily accented voice reverberated through the comm. Not even Soundwave would have been able to get by those firewalls so easily. The 'Con preferred to bash them to pieces over quietly but stylishly dancing around them, that was Jazz's trademark. But slaggit, he had seen the body!
Ironhide let out a loud laugh, "Never thought I'd be so happy to hear a mech back from the dead!"
"How?"Prowl managed out over the stream of humming the couldn't-be-Jazz was sending out.
A datapack pinged through, releasing a plethora of information that would take a day to speak in the human language. The Allspark fragment, Primus, a choice to move on or come back, and a very detailed, active spark signature. It was Jazz.
The tactician's processor gave a loud 'crack!'before Ironhide found himself the only conscious Autobot on the road.
"Thanks Jazz, you broke him,"he rumbled as he played out the conversation to Lennox.
Jazz's lilting laughter filled the comm while Prowl's systems booted back online.
"Wasn't out long this time,"Ironhide noted.
"Ah slag. And here I was hopin' comin' back from the dead would knock 'im a bit longer. He's gettin' better,"Jazz hummed.
"Ratchet is still going to scrap you for it."
Jazz laughed, his exuberant mood flowing through the comm. "Nah, he spent too long puttin' meh back togetha to slag meh over jus' yet."
"How long have you been online?"Prowl barged back in with the growl of post-crash irritation.
There was a pause as the Spec Ops Commander no doubt calculated every second. "Three kliks."
Prowl was already sending a packed lecture to Prime and demanding to know just why he had not been informed of the attempted-and obviously successful-use of the Allspark fragment to revive the second lieutenant.
"Mo' importantly,"Jazz continued, and both mechs could imagine him waving a hand to figuratively brush off the topic of his return to the living. "Wha's this I hear abou' 'ole Prowler pickin' up a human charge?"
"I have not. An insolent detective simply refuses to follow basic orders,"Prowl rumbled, the relief of the lieutenant returned would come later; he hated crashing and usually everything that caused one.
"I like 'er already!"Ironhide and Lennox chuckled and Prowl found himself once again wishing the weapons specialist would keep his human out of their conversations. But despite many personality flaws-a new one being his readiness to like a renegade detective-Jazz was a spectacular spy and saboteur. Surely he would see the logic in keeping humans at arm length from the Decepticons, regardless of his irrational infatuation with anything alien.
"And as Ironhide stated, the Decepticons know that we have been working with her. It would be most logical to cease all contact. Humans have no place in this fight."Surely he would agree to such a sound statement.
Whatever Lennox was about to snap through Ironhide's comm was overruled by Jazz, "Au contraire, Prowls, Barricade was tauntin'youwith this stunt. This is between the two of ya, which means 'e's gonna go afta any human ya come into prolonged contact with. Even if ya dump n' run, e'll still go afta 'er'."
Prowl vented as the two Autobots started back down the road in a more controlled manner. He really should have known better than to put his hope in Jazz of all mechs. "What is one human life? There are more important things we must be discussing, such as what Starscream is up to with these human abductions."
Jazz cut across Ironhide again, his tone unusually dark and accent-free, "All life is precious, Prowl. If we can prevent a single needless death, then we must do so."
It shut the tactician up on the particular topic quite thoroughly. Who was he to argue the value of life to a mech who had experienced death and faced Primus himself? Human lives were fleeting even in their entirety, but he elected to let the argument of the value of such pass unchallenged.
"Besides!"the smaller mech continued in a lighter tone, accent coming back full force, "Humans are perfect fo' discreet missions! They can slip in n' out withou' any 'Con bein' the wiser!"
The black and white Autobot should have counted on Jazz finding a use for anything and everything. He certainly had the optic for details most mechs would miss. Perhaps the tactician could find a use for the saboteur himself sooner than he had anticipated. Gathering together a data pack of all that he had encountered on the detective's case, he sent it to Jazz. "What do you make of this?"
Perhaps if there was an apparent element of logic or pattern, he would have been out to figure out the Decepticons' plans, but Starscream was in charge, which brought in an entirely unpredictable variable that left nothing to logic. The Air Commander's mind was a twisted mine field, which was what made him so dangerous. But with a mech of equal unpredictability looking into it, then perhaps there was a chance of figuring out the plan while they still had time to stop it.
Jazz hummed over the comm while he looked over the information, never once allowing the air waves to fall silent. Prowl left him to his musings as Prime finally responded on a separate channel.
"I apologize for not alerting you to the event. Ratchet had been doubtful of its success and I did not wish to stir false hope. Jazz was supposed to go straight into stasis so that Ratchet could run a diagnostic and ensure his health. I am sure he will be pleased to know his patient is awake and active on the comms."There was a note of humor to the Prime's voice that clued Prowl to the rather obvious fact that the medic would most certainlynotbe pleased to find Jazz was faking his stasis.
"Ah Prowler, way to spoil mah fun! I'll have to get back to ya once the Hatchet releases meh from internmen'. Spoil sport!"Then the saboteur was gone, the sudden quiet almost blaring.
The two Autobots continued down the road in relative silence, each lost in their own thoughts. They had Jazz back, a miracle and blessing in and of itself, but there was a danger to it. If the Allspark shard had enough power to revive him, did it still have enough to revive others as well? Should the Decepticons ever hear of this, protection of the shard would have to double, if not triple. They couldn't risk the possibility of Megatron ever being brought back. It took millions of vorns to finally be rid of him, their numbers were now too few to survive another millenia under his assault.
Whether the last 'Con was offline on this planet or not, Prowl knew in his spark that however insignificant Earth may be on its own, it would be the location of the final turning point in the war. Win or lose, the end started here.
It was a rare thing for Prowl to allow his processor to wander towards the future. It distracted too much from the present and there were too many variables to accurately start planning for a future after the fighting. His specialty was predicting the enemy's moves and countering them before they happened, not wishful thinking. But at this very moment, with memories of the past and hope for the future colliding, he let his thoughts drift. Memories from before the fighting were buried so deep they needed almost outdated access codes to get to, but Prowl didn't focus on those right now. Analyzing the past only served to remind him of his failures, of the unlikeliness of peace in the future. No, this night, coasting along beside Ironhide as the snow continued to pile up around them, Prowl envisioned a future without fighting. Logic said one day the war would end, but even so it was a hard picture to conjure. Would they stay on Earth for the rest of their days, until the very soil gave out beneath their pedes and they were forced to find a new planet when this one came to the end of its life? Cybertron couldn't be restored, not with only a single shard of the Allspark left. The very thought tore at his spark; his home would remain forever dark and desolate while he was stranded on a planet with a species that insisted on ignorantly destroying their home in the name of some luxurious comforts.
What was the value of one when there were seven billion others? How could he see an equal value in the life of a creature so overpopulated when his own kind numbered less than a hundred that they knew still functioned? A pitiful number that dropped every day, with every conflict, and would continue to do so until the last Decepticon had been destroyed. Even then, there was no Allspark; there would be no new life. There was no long-term future for the Cybertronians no matter the outcome of the war. He was one of the last of an endangered species.
There was no hope for any future for the Autobots if he didn't work out what the Decepticons were up to and stop them. Either Starscream's plan would come to fruition or the organic death toll would grow too high for the human government to continue providing them asylum on their planet. Neither option was ideal, so Prowl shut down the musings. The future could wait for the future, all that mattered was what he could do right now.
Ironhide hit the intersection and coasted right, back up towards the mountain where they had picked up the half-frozen detective. The snow was getting too deep up there for Prowl to easily plow through, but they couldn't leave possible clues to the Decepticon's recent actions to sit and be buried. So the weapons specialist and the soldier journeyed back up while Prowl turned left, back towards town. Hacking into police and hospital records was pathetically easy, but it still didn't tell him much. Only that the Decepticons had spared no human for torture and most had appeared to have used up all of their body's fat reserves and then some. Physical labor perhaps? That hardly made sense, what could humans possibly be able to do that a Cybertronian could not?
Prowl revved as snow splattered across his form and splashed up on his undercarriage. ThiswasStarscream and the Decepticons; it didn't matter if they could do something on their own if they could subjugate any other race into doing it for them. They would just on principle. Other than labor though, what other use could Starscream have for so many? Leverage was an obvious motive, all he would have to do was threaten a few hostages and Prime's bleeding spark would force the Autobots to stand down. Except the leader hadn't played that card, even in the direct conflicts they'd had in the recent months when he was outnumbered and beaten back. It had been perfect opportunities for the use of such a tactic and yet not one had been utilized. Pit, they wouldn't even be aware the 'Cons had any human hostages if Prowl had not come up here on a hunch! It went against everything the tactician knew of Starscream, which concerned him greatly.
If Starscream was suddenly curbing his basic personality, then it meant a serious plan was at play. One that would spell disaster for the Autobots.
His sensors alerted to an anomaly in the otherwise pristine snow that surrounded him. Following the tire tracks that had the barest hint of a Cybertronian signature, Prowl worked to decode whose signal he had stumbled upon while stretching his sensors further. There, the tracks coasted around a corner before appearing to have slowed and pulled over, where they joined with the vanishing prints of a human. Barely a foot away from the last human track, the snow was smashed and turned in a way that could only mean a struggle. Creeping along the road, Prowl followed the track, his processor recreating what had happened as he collected every detail left behind in the snow. The human tracks appeared again, the stride hurried but unbalanced; one track was different from the other, thicker and dragging slightly. Most likely a male with some sort of medical cast or boot on one foot.
The tire tracks compacted down to ice; the 'Con had gunned it, tires spinning before shooting off. And there it was, the splattering of blood across the packed snow, still in the process of freezing. The human had been hit and dragged. There, a piece of clothing lying shredded in the street, compressed into the blood and ice in the left tire track. Driving over it gave his scanners unimpeded access to the data it held. The human's DNA was not in any government system, but the cloth had most certainly come into contact with the vehicle that had run the male over. The signal was clear, Barricade. And he had been there barely one Earth hour ago.
Prowl's engine rumbled as he followed the pink trail of bloody snow. It seemed the Decepticon was not done taunting him and had now turned to running down humans who were at the wrong place at the wrong time.
Down the block and around the corner the trail went, where Prowl discovered the torn remains of a left arm. Further down and the blood increased exponentially, an hour's worth of snow unable to cover it or the pieces of skin and muscle that went with it. Driving alongside the carnage, the Autobot was careful to avoid the sharp metal jacks that were responsible for the bodily destruction. There were a perfect one hundred jacks, each clinging to red stained organic matter. Down the empty street he went, taking in the how and where of each piece of the human's body. All that was left was to find where it had finally ended.
Almost a full mile from the initial hit Prowl pulled up alongside the body, or rather, what was left of it. Whoever it had been was unidentifiable, but the crushed medical boot put the final piece into place. Dents on the side of the boot proved that for whatever reason, Barricade had tried to take this human, who shoved his boot in the door before the Decepticon could close it. The human had then taken the chance to dive out and make a run for it. Irritated, infuriated, or just for the sadistic pleasure of it, Barricade had run the man down, hitting him with enough force to snap the bones in his legs. Face-down in the snow, the organic then had his legs run over, where his boot caught on Barricade's bumper, resulting in the mile-long drag. Most likely the release of the jacks had been in an effort to dislodge the man, but he had only come free when the 'Con had hit the reverse, crushing the boot.
Regardless of his opinion on their lifespan, nothing deserved a death so painful. He only hoped the man had had the fortune of dying quickly.
Gathering the necessary details, the tactician sent off an alert to the necessary humans to get the mess cleaned up, along with an edited report to the police signed by Agent Row. It would be cleaned and closed by dawn.
With that taken care of, Prowl turned back towards the residential area of town. While he was decidedly not Detective Blake's Guardian, with Barricade so recently close by, it would be necessary to patrol the area near her; at least until Ironhide returned from the mountains. The klick he passed by the officer's home-dark and silent as he'd suspected it would be-the black mech contacted him over the comm.
"Prowl, these humans hadn't been dead more than six hours when 'Cade dumped them and they all reek of 'Cons,"Ironhide stated, sending all of the information he'd gathered on the pile of bodies.
"Whatever Starscream is doing, we have a temporary advantage of knowing who is at their base then, wherever it may be,"Prowl responded, making an idle note of how each new human had died and whose signatures were on the bodies. Signals on the original bodies up there had been too degraded to make out, though he'd suspected Breakdown to be responsible for the dead ranger. The amount of Energon that was being spilled on the recent organics was concerning. In the beginning, he had hoped it to mean one of the Decepticons was injured, but with each new body with the tell-tale burns, he was starting to suspect it was intentionally being applied. He could not say if it was for experimentation or torture, but it was reminiscent of scenes he had seen in Shockwave's labs with Autobot prisoners.
"I don't like this. It's too obvious, too taunting. Barricade knew their dumping hole had been discovered and he came back to it anyway. The strength of some of these signals is too strong to be done on accident,"Ironhide growled.
"Starscream is starting his endgame. He wants us to know what he is doing now."It was the only answer that made sense. Even if the plan wasn't perfectly in place, the Seeker was a showboater, a full blown diva as the humans called him; he thought he was smarter than everyone else and he had to prove it, rub it in their faces. There was only so long he could keep that side of himself quiet. All the better, Prowl figured, in the past it had served to tip the odds back into the Autobots' favor. Starscream had some strong points-there was a reason he had been Second in Command for so much of the war-but keeping his arrogance in check was not one of them.
"Arrogant fraggers. How the slag are so many of them hiding in one place?"
A fair question and one that Prowl knew the answer to was bad news for the Autobots, especially with the current absence of Blaster. "Soundwave is most likely in orbit, hiding the location of their base with his signal blockers."
"Well how do we find it, then?"Ironhide snapped, the growl deep and resonating even through the comm. Firefights were his specialty, the intricacies of cloaking and hacking only itched his cannons.
"The bodies,"Prowl started. "The Decepticons are too disgusted by everything they deem below them to allow deceased humans to remain on their base for long. Barricade is the one who dumped them and there are no reports of rampaging Mustangs, so we know that their base must be within a six hour drive radius at reasonable speeds."
"That's a lot of land, Prowl, we can't search it all."Perhaps Ironhide's human charge did provide some boon after all, at least he had managed to put some logic into the truck's processor where so many others had failed. Years ago the black mech would have sped off in an instant, calling back that he would search every square inch if he had to.
"We know that it is out of this state. Starscream is too smart to dump bodies on his own doorstep. The remains and Barricade's taunting have been to throw us off."
"Where do we start?"If he were to follow protocol directly, then he would alert Prime to everything, call for reinforcements for the search. But that was not their best course of action here. The moment Autobots started swarming the surrounding areas then the Decepticons would know they were on to them. They would pack up, clean up, and leave nothing but a pile of bodies behind. No, this was a mission that had to be carried out with the utmost discretion. Jazz would be the best option, but he was unavailable for an undetermined amount of time and they couldn't afford to wait for him.
Prowl vented heavily, sinking on his axles as he reached the end of the street and turned around. He didn't like it; in fact, he despised the very idea, but they needed someone who knew every detail of the case and the land around them. Sometimes human instinct could find something his battle programming could not, as much as he disliked admitting such a thing. "We start with the detective."
It would only be temporary, of course. The astrosecond he had all he needed from her, she was gone from the job and preferably the state. For now, he would have to endure her company until he could get everything she knew out of her. This should prove relatively easy, her continued presence would not last long.
"This,"Ironhide rumbled in amusement, "I can't wait to see."
Prowl had no idea what he meant by that.
Chapter 11: But Not Always An Ally
Chapter Text
Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending. ~Maria Robinson
When Darcy began the slow and arduous journey back from the realm of blissful oblivion, it was the warmth that was trapped in the cocoon of blankets around her that drew her dreary attention first. It had seeped completely through every fiber of her being, willfully calling her back to sleep. Exhaustion still clawed at her mind, so the detective decided the best course of action in that very moment was inaction. Burrowing deeper into the blankets, she was deep in the arms of slumber within seconds.
What could only be minutes later, Darcy found herself drifting unwillingly back into consciousness. Pain trickled its way up her arm, each limb stiff and protesting any movement. A rather unwelcomed jackhammering was beginning to take up residence in her skull. Being awake was really the last thing on her agenda at this point. Burying her face into the pillow, she tried to ignore the world for at least another hour.
A nagging thought that worked its way to the forefront of her mind refused to let her; why had she woken up in the first place? Judging by the brief light she had glimpsed coming through the window, it was already passed seven, but she just plain didn't feel up to moving. If her conscious self couldn't figure out what her unconscious had, then perhaps it just wasn't that important. A few more minutes wouldn't hurt either way.
That was her thinking anyway, until a clattering of what sounded suspiciously like dishware penetrated the comforter wrapped over her head. It wasn't a particularly loud crash, rather more of a gentle sound; an accidental bump of one dish against another. Shoving the blanket off, she was accosted by other sounds the cover had blocked. The soft tinking of dishes coming into contact with the counter, cupboards being opened and closed, and unhurried footsteps of whoever was moving about. It was all very...domestic. Relaxed by the unfamiliar yet comfortable feelings the sounds evoked, Darcy found herself starting to drift off yet again.
Until her half-asleep brain finally jump started at a supremely important question. Who the hell was in her kitchen?
Eyes snapping open, she bolted upright and went for her gun in one fluid move. Or it would have been fluid, had the blood not rushed straight out of her head and caused the room to spin out from under her. Cursing as the pounding in her head increased tenfold, it took a full minute of steady breathing before the hammering reached a non-skull splitting level. At least whoever was in her house was content to stay in the kitchen for now, as the string of sounds never once faltered. Once the blood flow even itself out, she reached out to the nightstand, wincing as the drawer squeaked. No change to the noise rhythm meant it hadn't been heard, she was in the clear.
Grabbing her personal pistol tucked inside the drawer, she dropped it as fire shot through her veins. Swearing, she clutched her injured hand to her chest. Through the shoddy wrappings she had put on the night before, she could see red fighting to bleed through the white. Her right hand was temporarily useless. Brilliant.
Awkwardly grabbing the gun in her left hand, she stood and slowly made her way to the open door, using the wall for support. Her body was just so damntired; where was the adrenaline spike when she needed one?
Slipping out of the bedroom and down the hall-barely remembering to dodge the creaky board at the last second-she slowly rounded the corner, raising the gun as she did so.
Her brain promptly stalled, her jaw falling open as the scene before her tore at the edges of reality. It had to be a hallucination, ithadto be. She'd finally snapped and lost it completely. Because Row was not in her house, he was not watching as the soldier dug through her cupboards, and he was most certainlynotholding several bags withIHopstamped across the front with a very sour look on his face.
Okay, the expression was reasonable, but not quite so the fact that he and the soldier were both in her house before she'd even gotten up and were...preparing breakfast. What?
"Hey, you're up!" the soldier-what was his name again?-stated jovially as he looked up from the drawer he'd been rifling through. "Where do you keep the silverware?"
Darcy could only stare at him, her mind stuck in a loop of incredulity at the odd turn of events. After a long moment, her brain finally figured out how to gather just enough wits to produce words. "Uh, by the stove."
But the soldier didn't turn towards the drawer in question immediately; instead he raised his hands in surrender, a cheeky smile working its way onto his face.
"Is this going to be a new habit for you?" he asked, lips twitching with poorly contained mirth. His eyes flicked back and forth from her to the tactician and Darcy couldn't decipher if he was laughing at her or Row. Most likely it was a combination.
"The hell is going on?" she finally sputtered, belatedly realizing she still had the gun leveled on the soldier. Dropping her arm back to her side, she found herself rather helplessly rooted to the spot, eyes flashing from the soldier who had gone back to digging through her drawers-and who let out a satisfied 'ah-ha!' upon finding his quarry-to Row, who was quickly schooling his expression back into his usual calm.
"Major Lennox informed me that providing a meal is the most effective way to correct any perceived wrong doings, and you have not consumed any sort of fuel in over twenty-four hours. Logically, breakfast from thisI-Hopwas the best option," Row stated, drawing out the restaurant's name as if he had never heard of it before. There was a long moment of silence as Lennox finally relieved Row of the bags and began pulling out the numerous boxes, which wafted delicious smells into the air the second they were opened. It was enough to remind Darcy of just how hungry she was and that it was probably the cause of her exaggerated exhaustion and headache. Her eyes widened as the soldier kept pulling boxes. There was enough food to feed a small army taking over her counter and only three people to eat it. Hopefully Lennox and Row had crazy appetites because there was no way she could even make a dent in all that.
"It's as much of an apology as you're ever going to get from him," Lennox stated, shooting the other man a pointed look when the tactician opened his mouth. The detective nodded absently, wondering just what was said in the conversation that had to have occurred to lead up to all this.
"How did you get into my house?" Her mouth was running on autopilot as her brain still struggled to reason what was going on. Row, arrogant, prick, and general know-it-all Row, had gottenherbreakfast. What universe ending paradox had blown up so this would happen?
Row lifted an eyebrow in her direction. "You keep a spare key under the left side of the doormat and Major Lennox retrieved your keys from the totaled vehicle."
Said soldier lifted a finger without turning away from the monstrous amount of food, said keys spinning from the digit before he dropped them on the counter. Gold glinted on his left hand as he started filling his own plate and it all clicked into place. Row was relatively-more or less completely-clueless when it came to normal human interaction; Lennox had firsthand experience and had no doubt coached the faux-agent on what to do. She wasn't quite sure what to make of that. Yet Row had still gone through the trouble of physically retrieving the food. Perhaps he wasn't as horrible as she had originally pegged him. On the job yes, but maybe there were a few elements of a decent person buried under that scowl.
With that thought serving as enough to straighten her brain out, she moved to dish her own servings. The abundance of food before her made it tempting to just jump right in and gorge, but she knew from experience she'd thoroughly regret it later, so she settled with a more acceptable serving portion before sitting next to the soldier on the other side of the counter.
"I have noticed your stores are abysmally lacking. Is it a common occurrence among females to not be able to care for themselves and so why the majority of them engage in a union?" Nevermind: scratch, shred, burn, and bury all those decent thoughts out of existence.
Lennox groaned, shaking his head and dropping his chin to his chest while Darcy glared, stabbing a little too harshly into a pancake while envisioning the fluffy food as Row's hand. Nope, he was an asshole through and through, on the clock and off.
"Prowl," Lennox chided in exasperation. Darcy frowned, there was that verb-name?-again. Well, theywerea military group, they were bound to all have callsigns for each other. While Prowl was as weird a nickname as any, it kind of fit the guy.
Row hardly blinked, "I was simply asking a question, Major, as you yourself are united with a femme who often has a list of tasks she needs you to accomplish when you return home."
The detective stared blankly at the man. He...was it actually possible for someone to be a complete ass and not even realize it? Before all of this she would have called bull, but the tired annoyance on the soldier's face and the obliviousness on Row's stated that yes, yes it was possible.
Where the hell was this guy from? Mars?
"I will have you know that I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself," she ground out after finishing the bite of pancake she'd so viciously stabbed. "I've just had a few more important things to worry about than grocery shopping."
The eyebrow arched perfectly again, "Or other general care as evident by your bleeding palm. It hardly does anyone any good to allow yourself to fall into disrepair." He ignored a rather pointed look from Lennox as Darcy tucked said injured hand out of view. "Furthermore, it is yet another reason for you to step down; you can hardly function at the full capacity that is necessary when dealing with this group when you are not properly caring for yourself."
Darcy was more than half-willing to throw the fork in her left hand at him. "I've cared for myself justfine, thank you, and I certainly don't need judgement from a man who I haven't seen eat a thing once!"
Row was hardly fazed and she was beginning to suspect nothing short of actually stabbing him would get him riled. At this point she would be happy to test the theory. "I have already consumed my necessary fuel for the day."
Somehow his reply was not all that shocking. Apparently his inability to act like a normal person transcribed intoeverythingnormal people did. Lennox just shrugged when she shot him her own exasperated look. Clearly he was used to the strange mannerisms of the tactician. Right, best defense was to just ignore it then.
"I need you to tell me everything you know about recent events," Row stated the moment she'd pushed her empty plate away.
Darcy leaned back in her chair, stomach almost uncomfortably full as she tried to gauge how much of breakfast was supposed to be an apology and how much of it was supposed to have buttered her up for this moment.
"I will tell you just as soon as you fill me in on what you know," she stated in turn. Ignore it? Yeah, right, she was better at throwing it all back at him. The best defense was a good offense, after all. Row shot a look to Lennox, who studiously pretended not to see it and that the patterns of syrup left on his plate were the most interesting thing in the room. He definitely had something to do with all of this, played some big role. The tactician turned his gaze back on her and she met his stare with a wall of her own stubborn determination. She wasn't a fool, she knew exactly what he was trying to do. If she told him everything she knew, she would become dispensable and he would continue his pursuit in removing her from the case and the attempt to find John. If she made him share first, then even if he did attempt to ditch her, she could take her own steps from there, something she knew he was loath to let her do. It was something she wasn't exactly thrilled to do herself either. Justoneof the psychos they were after had totalled her car and kicked her ass without ever actually getting out of his car. She did not want to have to face him again without serious backup on her side. But if Row left her no other choice, then she would do it.
It remained quiet as both refused to break first; until Lennox coughed and Row glanced towards him before letting out a suffering sigh, as if what he was about to do went against everything he believed in.
"The faction responsible for these crimes is large, globally so; they are organized and supplied with advanced weaponry. The Mustang you encountered goes by the handle of Barricade and he is among the worst of them. Should you ever encounter him again, run. He values the lives of others very little."
A ghost of a chill snaked its way down her spine as she recalled the way her bullets had reflected harmlessly off of the car. For once, she could agree with him on something. "Easy enough."
Row continued on, explaining how the faction's base-really he made them sound more militaristic than terrorist-was not in the state but most likely in one of the surrounding. She listened as she stepped around to look at the large map on her wall, taking in the rather perfect handwriting that had appeared on several of the victim's notes. Coming closer, she realized it was the time and cause of death that undoubtedly Row had been the one to add. It allowed her to relax just a bit; now that he was sharing information she hoped it meant he would lay off trying to remove her. She frowned at the tactician as he continued spitting out details, some of which she already knew, but the amount and depth of descriptions on her wall would have taken some time to write down. None of it had been there the night before. Just how long had he been in her house this morning? It was slightly unnerving she had slept through it as long as she had.
Silence fell as Row finished with what he was willing to share. Darcy knew he was still holding back. He had provided several pieces to the complex puzzle in front of her, but the center pieces were still missing and she had the feeling he was keeping them safely in his pocket, with no intention of sharing them with her. She wasn't clear to know everything about the secret war, but it limited how much help she could be in going after them. She didn't like going in half blind, but she wasn't going to walk away because of it.
Her mouth ran on autopilot, briefing what she'd heard from the coroner to Cade's cryptic call and the interaction with him on the mountain. All the while her eyes traced over the map, noting that several of her missing that had been identified had been killed quickly and brutally. Like Andrew and his friends or the ranger Tom, crushed or beaten but otherwise not exposed to the same long-term treatment of the others. Victims of chance, killed because they had gotten too close to the dumping grounds, or perhaps had seen one of the perps leaving after dumping bodies. Others were probably taken out of opportunity as they left, a chance presented and pounced on to immediately replace the ones dumped. Zero cooling off period, zero care for creating noticeable patterns. And yet they had managed to keep the dumping ground hidden for a year, through summer and the height of hiking season. If Row had not come along, she might not have found it still. And yet there was no real response from this group now that it had been discovered other than Barricade's attack. And if he was so deadly, why was she alive still? He had called her up there, had had plenty of opportunity to strike while she was uncovering Davis and the other bodies, could have done far worse than total her SUV. But he hadn't. He'd cut her hand, trashed her car, and left.
An attempt to kill her with the elements or a taunt that she only lived because he'd allowed it? Her eyes tracked over to Row. Maybe she wasn't even important in all of this, she was just another detective in another town. Maybe Barricade's attack on her had everything to do with Row, a personal beef between the two. There was definitely an influx of emotion whenever the tactician said his name; subtle, but there.
Definitely something personal there.
Knowing that her town's victim pool was only related to the dumping grounds meant any patterns she'd initially seen there were no longer applicable. Her missing and murdered only told her about the people they were against, she'd need to start from scratch on victimology and she'd need a lot more than just her small cluster.
Glancing at Row as she finished her spiel, she weighed her chances and went for it. "Do you have the reports from other states?"
Maybe there was a reason the group hadn't responded other than the taunting and dropping more bodies. Maybe Row had come up when he did for a reason he wasn't aware was intentional. Maybe they wanted him to find the bodies.
He looked momentarily surprised by the request before he dipped his head. "Yes, although they are not on paper."
Darcy nodded, waving a hand towards her laptop on the table, "As long as I can see disappearance and death details, I don't care what format it's in."
The reports from neighboring counties of their missing in the last year were already in her email, waiting to be gone through. They were still identifying bodies so she wouldn't know for certain which were involved in this case or not, but whatever matched details of Row's files might just reveal a pattern and way to identify who they might still have alive.
Row arched a brow, "Something you care to share?"
"A hunch, I'll let you know when I've got something that supports it," she muttered absently, grabbing a pen and marking those on her wall that had died the day they disappeared. Pausing, she studied the wall with a frown before adding a few extra marks.
"The files are on your mobile computer," Row stated. Darcy drifted over to it with an idle note of not having seen the man move and inch. Opening the new files, she immediately forgot about the strange happenings of the tactician as she was inundated with new cases, many more than had been found at the dumping grounds and as recent as yesterday. While it was obvious it was a big operation behind this; she hadn't imagined they'd been doingthismuch. When asked about the new missing reports, Row simply supplied a 'similar M.O.s'. She accepted it with a shrug, he knew this organization well, after all.
Style and time of each abduction, along with cause of death for those deceased determined where and how she moved each file as she separated them, mentally noting areas with an apparent higher number of disappearances.
"Could you take me to the station? I need to pick up a new cruiser and a bigger map," she asked, still fully absorbed in what she was doing. There were a lot of files to go through and as of yet there wasn't a clear pattern emerging, but there was something hanging just out of reach. So close but just out of her grasp. A bigger map would help fill in those blanks, she just knew it.
Lennox said something in a low voice to Row before he walked out of the door ahead of them. Darcy paid him no mind as she followed Row outside, nose still firmly buried in her tablet.
She was in the Charger and halfway to the station when she came across a report from earlier that day. Seeing the time stamp made her pause long enough to actually look at all of the details of the file. How Row had pictures and scene analysis already she didn't know nor care to ask. Her stomach rolled as the images flashed across the screen and the descriptions replayed what happened at three in the morning behind her eyes with disturbing clarity. The victim was Josh Anderson, a twenty-two year old male, and his botched abduction had turned quickly into a gruesome murder. It didn't escape her notice that 'Barricade' was boldly listed as the perpetrator. Every detail in the report was precisely printed out in a depth and scene-understanding that would normally take weeks to produce. Darcy cast a suspicious glance at the car's radio. While it had recently given no indication of having any sort of artificial intelligence, it didn't mean she'd forgotten the thing was uncomfortably advanced beyond her imagination.
As Row pulled into the station, Darcy pulled herself away from her musing and files long enough to find herself suddenly regretting selling her personal car two years ago. Getting another cruiser was going to be a pain, especially considering the chief had officially removed her name from the roster.
Unfortunately, she was right. While her desk hadn't been cleared nor her case closed, she was forced to spend over an hour arguing with the chief before she was finally able to walk out of the precinct with the keys to a retired Crown Vic. It ran well enough, so she couldn't find it within herself to care that it was bound for the scrap yard.
Row was gone when she walked out into the cold. It was then she really noticed the depth of the snow on the ground. She glanced doubtfully at the cruiser tucked in the far corner of the lot. Sure the main roads were generally kept plowed, but side roads and residential streets were on their own. The fact she hadn't even noticed until now had her inwardly cursing the Charger. For a muscle car, it had the grip of a 4x4 and then some.
Getting to the hardware store wasn't all that difficult; it sat on the end of the main drag of city center. Making it back home with the new maps and her sanity intact was quite another story. Even with newly acquired chains, the thing slipped and slid across the road on too many occasions. She missed her SUV. Damn Barricade for totalling it.
It took twice the time it normally did, but she made it home with only her nerves frayed. Carting everything into the house and moving to stand in front of her morbidly decorated wall, Darcy found herself stalling at the idea of tearing it all down and starting again. It felt as though she stood on a threshold. The moment she crossed it there was no going back, for better or worse. Somehow, in some way, she knew it would change her. One didn't take on a global threat and stay the same after. Casting a look about the rather bland and bare living room, Darcy ripped the old map off the wall; change would be good.
Up the completed map of the US went, taking up the entirety of the eight foot wall. Tablet balanced on the counter's edge, she started again with the pins, using different colors for the traits she had organized the files by. The task, depressedly enough, took her the majority of the day. Finally finished well after darkness had fallen, she took a step back to study the new array of color.
It was a very colorful andfullmap of the country.
"Ready to explain your hunch, Detective?" She jumped, hand flying towards her holster as the voice came from behind her. Whirling around, she found Row barely half a step away.
"Damn it, don'tdothat!" she snapped, letting her hand drop back to her side. Honestly, how was he so bloody quiet?
He didn't respond to her demand, his attention on the new map and the dismally large number of colored pins.
"You believe there to be a pattern and reason to the abductions other than a labor force?" he asked, eyes cutting to her for a breath. She returned his glance with a quirked brow. How did he know they were being used as a labor force? Sighing, she shrugged it off; he had more experience with this group, perhaps it wasn't such a stretch.
"These are all the places where multiple victims have been taken," she started, pointing out the few groups of red pins. "This one surrounded their dumping grounds, so I figure these others are either more dumping grounds or their base."
One was up in Washington's Cascades, another near the Oregon coast; the third was in the middle of Georgia, and the fourth smack in the middle of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. It was a disturbing reality. Either there were multiple dumping grounds, multiple bases, or a combination of both. Neither bode well for the victims still missing and presumed alive.
"These vics they don't seem to care as much about and kill faster than the others, sometimes outright or through prolonged torture. Vics of opportunity to keep secret whatever they're hiding there," Darcy continued, motioning towards the green pins that were vastly more spread out but equal in number to the red. "I think these were all specific targets. Each one was a single abduction, picked out of a crowd or down an empty road or from their own home. We found fewer of them in our dumping ground, so either they're being dumped somewhere else, or they're at least moderately trying to keep them alive."
She prayed she was right, it could mean John still had a chance, still had time for her to find him.
Row nodded as she broke herself out of planning a reckless rescue attempt. "So the question becomes what is it about those people that they want?"
Darcy blew out a breath, deflating a little. "That, I have no idea."
Row turned away from the wall to face her. "Then it appears we have work to do."
For two weeks the detective and faux FBI agent poured through the lives of the dead and the missing, looking for anything that could connect them, give them some clue as to who the perps might target next. For every lead there were ten files to dispute it, for every answer another question, and Darcy was quickly finding herself reaching wit's end. They were going in circles and every day Row had a new file to add to the pile, new victims and old cases they now knew were connected. While his stoic countenance hardly wavered, Darcy could see he was fed up with the goose chase as well.
Lennox floated in and out, generally serving as a reminder to take regular breaks for meals; but as his particular speciality was decidedly not in investigations, he spent the majority of his time...well, Darcy had no idea what it was he was doing. Her mind was too busy with everything else to have time to dig into what the soldier was up to.
It quickly became obvious that Row was still keeping secrets. There was something about these people they were after that he was refusing to tell her; something crucial by the way he and Lennox were able to shoot down some of her theories immediately but would refuse to explain why it was impossible. It was irritating to have such a glaring hole in her knowledge and made even more so as Row easily evaded every one of her subtle interrogation attempts.
They weren't doing her any favors by hiding things from her and she vowed to uncover what it was. It didn't matter if this was some multi-government secret, they had come back to work together and she couldn't be of much help if she didn't have the whole picture. It wasn't like she was asking for the technological secrets, just who exactly they were facing. Row was a lost cause, he knew exactly what she was doing and stone-walled her at every turn. Lennox promised to be a more fruitful venture, she just had to figure out how to catch him when Row wasn't around to interfere.
As it so happened, as they started into the third week of semi-cooperation, the unmistakable growl of one of the advanced cars pulled away as dusk fell on a white world. Darcy glanced up from the old file box she was digging through in the spare room. It had sounded like the truck Lennox always drove rather than the Charger, but a breath later she heard the soldier's voice down the hall as he answered his cell.
Slowing her movements, Darcy took extra care to only make the necessary noise to avoid suspicion while she strained her ears and tried to make something from the one-sided conversation. Apparently someone called Ironhide-who came up with these callsigns?-was out chasing down some kind of signal. The soldier's voice muffled beyond discernment as he stepped further into the living room. Darcy sighed; apparently the useful information wasn't going to come easily. Dropping the useless file back into the box she'd pulled it from, the detective started to silently make her way down the hall. Even if she did miss the rest of the conversation, with Row gone, she had her chance at the Major.
Pausing at the end of the hall, just out of sight, Darcy waited to see if he might reveal something crucial. Luck, it seemed, was not in her favor tonight. The soldier hung up and fell silent. One chance gone, another ahead. Opening her mouth, she went to call for him as she moved to step around the corner.
"Who was it?" She froze in her tracks. Who was what? And why was he asking her? There was no way he'd seen her yet!
"Motormaster." Darcy jolted at Row's voice. When and how did he get in without her hearing? She certainly hadn't heard the Charger come back or the door open! Was there a third member of their little party they weren't telling her was involved here? "He was gone before Ironhide could get close."
Motor master? Had to be a callsign for one of the terrorists; Row was using it in the same manner he did Barricade. If they used callsigns as a way to protect their identities, catching them was going to be even more difficult than it already was.
"What was he doing?" Confusion etched the soldier's voice, "Isn't he a little slow to be taunting us this close?"
"He broke into a power facility and stole their primary generators. My concern is the lack of vehicular carnage from his coming and going." Darcy pressed herself against the wall, moving as close to the corner as she dared. Perhaps luck was on her side after all.
"Meaning it wasn't something Starscream wanted attention drawn to," Lennox concluded. She could hear him shuffle around. "Who else do we know is around?"
Row, for his part, was eerily silent when he wasn't speaking, like he wasn't even there. "Knock Out and Breakdown appear to be the most directly involved with the abductions and Jazz decoded the signals of Wild Rider, Wreckage, and Skywarp. It is then logical to assume that with two of the trine planet-side, Thundercracker will not be far behind."
The detective felt like her head was spinning. It sounded like code of some sort, either way it made little to no sense to her. Lennox sighed, "It's going to take a full assault when we find their base. I take it you've already notified Optimus?"
"I have. He authorized keeping Detective Blake out of it here on out," Row stated flatly. Darcy felt her blood boil; even with the secrets, she had hoped two weeks of silence on the matter had meant it was dropped for good.. No way in hell was she not seeing this through to the end! He had to understand that by now.
"I still think she could help, we still don't know why the 'Cons are taking people." At least Lennox was somewhat on her side, she knew she liked him for a reason.
"Inconsequential at this point, Major. We will stop whatever their plans are once we know where the base is. The detective has served her purpose and is best kept out of it any further."
"She's not going to just sit quietly on the sidelines, no matter what you command," Lennox stated dryly. At least he had learned something of her over the last couple weeks, but there was a quiet resignation to his voice that Darcy did not like. He may not agree with what Row was saying, or support it entirely, but he wasn't going to fight against it either.
"As I have become well aware, Major. I have already formulated false leads that will take her to a trafficking ring working out of Atlanta. The FBI field officer there is awaiting her arrival at the end of the week." She ground her teeth, wanting little more than to deck the man plotting to get rid of her. Just what kind of authority did he actuallyhaveif he could get the FBI to accept an incoming small town detective from across the country?
Lennox sighed again. "I don't care if it's the right thing, I still don't like it. It doesn't feel right."
Having nothing but her hearing to focus on, Darcy found herself able to pick up on the slight shift in Row's voice. He almost sounded...regretful. "She has already been involved far past where she should have been. There are too many humans mixed up in our war as it is. Would you rather she be as tied to it as you have become?"
War? Sure she knew it was an international military organization against a global terrorist threat, but to hear it called an outright war was...daunting. And terrifying given it was a war that no one outside of the two groups knew existed. It wasn't a recent one either, the inflection of regret, the insinuation that there had been several other civilians caught up in it, all pointed to a fight that had been raging for some time. A fight both Row and Lennox were going to keep her out of if they could, which meant she couldn't trust anything they told her from now on when it came to new leads. Lennox was wrong though; in this instance, she was going to sit quietly, bide her time, make them believe she bought what they fed her. Only when they dropped their guard would she move back to the front line. Even if she hadn't formed an investment into all of the victims she couldn't save, John was still out there in the hands of psychopaths. If he was involved, then she was involved to her dying breath.
She swore an oath to protect people, she wasn't going to back down just because the threat got big and scary.
Slipping back down the hall when the men's conversation turned toward using jazz and a mirage to find the base, Darcy started plotting. Row was a tactician to the core and he had seen through all of her tricks before. Fooling him was going to be the hardest. She'd have to give absolutely no indication of knowing what she'd just heard, follow the fake information he gave her while digging into the real leads without him noticing. The difficulty of her work just tripled. Lennox was another issue. He understood her better and would no doubt be watching her closely in the coming days. There was a danger to that in and of itself. For all the things the Major had given away, he'd never revealed his specialty. It could prove disastrous if she didn't play her cards right.
A low buzzing ring from her pocket broke her planning, making her immediately thankful that she'd moved back into the spare room and wasn't still in the hall. The coroner's number flashed across the screen. "Tell me you have something, Dr. Conners."
The medical examiner didn't bother with greetings or small talk either, "More autopsies finished, not much new on that front, but lab results came in on that chemical."
The dread and anger from Row's upcoming plot faded away. Now she had something to work with. She paused before answering, it had gone suspiciously quiet down the hall, and it hit her then that she had never found out just how Row had known she was on the mountain when she'd run into Barricade. He'd somehow intercepted her call to the FBI field office in the very beginning; it was entirely possible he had her phone bugged. No way was she about to give up this advantage. "Tell me in person, I'm on my way."
Grabbing her jacket and keys, Darcy nonchalantly made her way down the hall and into the living room, fighting to keep her pace casual and expression neutral. At least it had stopped snowing a few days ago and had begun to melt off. Roads would be clear enough for her car to make it without trouble, meaning Row would have no excuse to give her a ride himself or insist she use his vehicle, which she strongly suspected he somehow used to spy on what she was doing.
"Where are you going?" he asked, blue eyes tracking over her coat and keys.
She turned to face the man, leaning her hip against the back of the couch. "The M.E. called, he has reports for more autopsies. Figured I'd go pick them up on the way to the store."
Raising her brows, she silently dared him to challenge her claim. Her cupboardswerestill abysmally empty despite Lennox's best efforts to get her on his regular eating schedule and it honestly was something she could do after talking to Conners. So it wasn't a lie, which she had discovered Row to be uncannily good at spotting. Half-truths were still truths.
He didn't do anything but stare at her for a moment and for a moment she wondered if he somehow knew anyway. But then he gave a short nod and turned back to whatever it was he and Lennox had been discussing when she'd walked in. Turning away from the men, she kept up the leisurely pace all the way out the door and to the Crown Vic, which looked old and sad next to the Charger. Lennox's truck was nowhere to be seen. So therewasa third member of their little party they were hiding from her. Unless of course the advanced truck just up and drove itself away.
She'd worry about that unknown variable later, she decided as she pulled out of the driveway. Once out of visual and hearing distance of her place, she floored it. There was something new to work with waiting for her at the M.E.'s office. After so long going in endless circles, what Conners had for her was going to be a huge help. It had to be.
Maybe, just maybe, whatever the examiner had to say would shed some light onto the main question that had some infuriatingly revealed nothing of itself. It was also the one question that was the reason Row had kept her on for this long.Why?Why the victims that had been targeted? Why them and not some who would have been easier to get to? Until she could answer that, she had no hope of ever getting ahead of the enemy. It was a place hardly better than square one.
Darcy only slowed the cruiser when she passed the cemetery, paying her own kind of respects as she rolled by. Someone, in the midst of the sea of black, was being buried today. A hollow ache settled in her chest as the Honor Guard stepped out and twenty-one guns echoed hauntingly through the still air. So much needless death, so much needless pain. And she could only ever help after the fact. It was a painful realization she'd come to a long time ago, but it was never any easier remembering it. She drove on, picking up speed once the graveyard was behind her, idly wondering what part of the military they had been a part of.
The epiphany was a brick wall dead ahead and she went face first through it. Swerving to avoid the truck that had appeared in front of her, Darcy slammed the brakes, yanking the cruiser over half-hazardly in the process. When the car came to a stop, she spent a long moment staring blankly at the steering wheel without seeing it.Thatwas it! Thatwasit. That wasit!It had been right in front of her face! Always look at the little details, nothing is unimportant! Damn it all, how had she missed that? It was so obvious now!
She could feel the beginnings of a grin making its way across her face. It didn't matter what Conners had now, she had a definitive heading, one even Row didn't have, and it was going to take her straight to the culprits; whatever the M.E. had was icing on the cake. Blinking back into awareness of her surroundings, she flipped the lights on and blasted down the road. Heaven help whoever tried to stop her now.
Conners was waiting for her in the lobby and quickly led her to an empty office. "I know this isn't what the FBI wanted me to do, but I wanted you to have this first."
He handed her the stack of autopsy files before flipping open the one he had kept. Darcy frowned, "Wait, what about the FBI?"
The examiner shrugged, "One of their agents stopped by last week, said that if any new developments came up that I was to call him directly first thing. I don't know him, but I know you; and I'm not about to give information for your case to some suit before you've seen it.
She narrowed her eyes, knowing even before she asked that her suspicion was spot on. "This suit have a name?"
"Agent...Row, I think." Her fists clenched of their own accord around the files. Howdarehe? In her own damn town no less! Apparently his plan to kick her to the curb had never changed, he merely altered his tactics.
"Now what I wanted to show you," Conners started, forcing Darcy's attention away from the future fight that may now be unavoidable. "The bugs were definitely from either Washington or Oregon, but they're so common in both states that the best I can give you is that they were picked up in a mountainous zone. But more importantly, that acid."
He had her full and undivided attention. "The chemical no one could recognize, what is it?"
He hesitated before handing her the open file. "That's the thing, we still don't know. It's nothing that'severbeen seen before. It's some kind of oil based fuel."
The chemical chart was gibberish to her, but the results of some of the tests were clear enough. "So it's basically some mixture of gas?"
Gas with something extra packed into it to make it corrosive to human skin. Plus it was...blue. Conners shook his head. "Maybe a gas that's been condensed to the tenth and cleaned of everything but energy and yet something keeping it stable-ish."
"So it's...what?" If it was so unknown and new, perhaps it was whatever powered the high tech weapons. Hell, if it was a derivative of gas, it might be what powered those cars. She hadn't seen Row or Lennox stop for gas once.
Conners grinned, "It's a fuel! A pure, clean energy fuel that theoretically gives off almost nothing in emissions. But...no one can figure outwhatit fuels because all attempts of use, combustion or otherwise have resulted in...well, you have the results."
Darcy's brows rose as she read the very thing aloud, "Explosions. So it's stable enough for something specific to use it, but unstable with any misuse."
"Exactly," he nodded.
Definitely for their weapons or cars then. Row would be wanting this information buried as soon as possible.
"Thanks, Doc. Any chance you could wait up to twenty-four hours before calling Row about your findings?" See if he liked having his own medicine thrown back at him.
He smirked as he opened the door and stepped out of the room, tossing over his shoulder, "Might take me that long just to find his number again."
Conners' wife was a lucky woman, she'd definitely nabbed the best that family had to offer.
She started the trek back home with her mind of overdrive. The enemy had enough of this fancy fuel to take no issue wasting it to pour on their victims, to practically drown them in it, but why have it in the first place? What was so special about the cars that standard gasoline or diesel wasn't good enough? Surely not just for mileage? The scanners! An ordinary battery possibly couldn't take whatever machine ran the scanners or ejected knives out of hoods. There were probably a lot of features she hadn't been privy to yet as well. It was no doubt why Row had demanded results go to him first. He'd always known what the chemical was and didn't want her finding out anything more of their advanced tech.
The last light had long disappeared behind the mountains, the only light that of the headlights of the other car coming up another road. She thought nothing of it, wonderingwhya terrorist organization bent on world domination would take the time to pour and experimental fuel on victims of both opportunity and planning. For the joy of torture just didn't make sense if domination was truly their goal. How could torture further that goal?
The connection she'd made earlier, that had to be related. A way to remove an advantage, though as far as she knew they had yet to use it. Why the delay then? Because they weren't ready to use it, to reveal that they had it. There was a big plan at play.
Headlights blared through her side window, blinding her as a train's worth of force slammed into the side of her car.
The world exploded into a spinning kaleidoscope of flashing lights, shattering glass, and shrieking metal. For less than half a second she was weightless, pulled along through the air by the seat belt holding her firmly in place. It all came crashing down in a blink, sparks flying and a forgotten gear belt cracking against her head. Body pulsing in pain, she groaned, struggling to right an inverted world. Only one headlight remained functioning, revealing nothing in its reach. Nothing to see, nothing to hear as the wrecked engine gave out with a pitiful whine. Warm blood snaked a trail from cheek to hairline as she blindly reached for the seatbelt's release. She froze as the quiet was split by a snarling roar.
It was a sickeningly familiar sound and the cold hands of fear gripped her heart. Piercing white light stabbed her eyes, obscuring her vision and tripling the pounding in her head. Red and blue alternated behind the white, taunting, laughing at their irony. The Mustang's grill was only a handful of strides from her helplessly suspended body; her only protection a few pieces of mangled metal and broken glass. Barricade wasn't going to leave her with a cut hand and a totaled car this time. Whatever secrets she kept to herself now, she was taking to the grave. As the supercharged muscle car rolled forward, she knew it didn't matter what bad blood lay between her and NEST. The only thing that mattered was stopping these psychopaths.
Giving up the fight against the safety restraint, she reached for the CB at the same instant the Mustang hit the side of the car again. It jolted her, shoving a twisted hunk of sharp metal into her left shoulder. She swore as the car was pushed across the blacktop, sparks flying from the roof. The horrid screech threatened to drown out any sort of thought process. It was a small miracle she was able to switch to the right station and hold onto the mic. "Row! I know you monitor this channel, so answer damn you!"
Who knew how long Barricade would be content pushing the inverted car. She only prayed it was long enough to get the message out.
"What do you need, Detective?" Brief, bittersweet relief filled her. At least dying wouldn't be quite so pointless.
"Barricade has me pinned; I don't know how long he'll keep toying with me so I need you to listen. I know how they're choosing their victims." The sparks were boiling hot against her skin, the screeching threatening to drown out her voice. Blood rushing to her head was making her feel faint which only increased the panic and sense of urgency. She couldnotpass out before she told him.
"I thought I made it clear you were not to approach him." His monotone never wavered and it flared her temper. Damn it all, did he not listen?
"He found me! But that isn't important! I know who they're targeting!" Panic heightened further as spots danced across her already questionable vision.
Row cut over before she could gather enough breath to continue. "Try to hole up somewhere. I am on the way."
Darcy snarled, her woozy head getting lighter and lighter. "Shut up and listen, you won't get here in time. They're after NEST; they're taking the extended family of its members!"
A dark chuckle froze her blood. It wasn't coming from the radio; it echoed and purred from right beside her, as if it was coming from the Mustang.
"You found a clever one, Prowl, oh this will befun," the voice purred and Darcy's fear multiplied tenfold. She couldn't move, couldn't do anything but stare at the grill of the car that was still pushing her down the road with utter horror.
Row's voice held a growl she'd never heard before and hardly recognized as him. "Leave her out of it, Barricade. Your war is with us."
Barricade laughed and Darcy let out a breath as he finally backed the Mustang away from her. His words, however, did little to relieve her fear. "Don't worry, I'll takespecialcare of your pet."
Without warning, without reason, and without sense, the muscle car exploded. Thousands of metal fragments shot outward and up before coming together in some complex sequence to form what she could only describe as a metal monstrosity.
With that insane image dancing across her vision, Darcy finally lost the last hold of her consciousness and was only able to moan one word before the blood rush knocked her out.
"Help."
Chapter 12: Behind the Curtain
Chapter Text
The universe doesn't like secrets. It conspires to reveal the truth, to lead you to it. ~Lisa Unger
Pulsing pain greeted Darcy as she struggled back to consciousness. Head pounding in tandem with her heart, her fingers fumbled with the seat belt's clasp. Even numb, she somehow managed to work the release and the restrain snapped off, sending her limp body crashing onto the ceiling. Broken glass carved its way into her arms as she fought against the disorientation to right herself.
While darkness hid the metal beast from her sight, she could hear it traipsing around the car. Hydraulics hissed and an engine purred as the thing stayed just out of view, taunting as it circled her like some twisted predator around injured prey.
"Darcy, you still with us?" the smooth voice of Major Lennox gave her frantic mind something to cling to other than fear.
"I'm here," she groaned into the CB's mic, panting as her left shoulder burned with every breath.
"Try to get somewhere he can't reach you, we're almost there." The earth-shaking steps from the monster belayed his order. Almost wasn't close enough. It was going to kill her. It wouldn't take much. Every heartbeat she had was only because it allowed it.
"I can't, it's right outside." There wasn't anything in the way of cover on this road anyway. No, she was safest there in the totaled cruiser and even it was a paper shield.
"It?" Row's voice cut in, the dark undertone more prevalent than before.
She was about to tell him just what was moving around in the dark when a massive chunk of black metal crashed into the ground inches from the driver's door. Fear choked off her voice as it didn't splinter into pieces or fall over as it should have. In the odd gleam of white and red from some light overhead, she could make out the smooth surface of solid metal that faintly resembled a foot.
The bone-chilling chuckle that had come from the Mustang now echoed again. The car jolted, eliciting a scream as her injured shoulder was shoved into the steering wheel, fully forcing the joint out of socket.
"Come here,pet," the voice she finally recognized as the elusive 'Officer Cade' ordered with sickening sadistic glee. Metal shrieked and moaned in protest of some massive force working its way through the undercarriage. Darcy pulled herself to the passenger side, cradling her useless left arm. The car jolted again as some piece of the body gave way and the detective came to the terrifying realization that the thing was tearing the car apart. The cruiser wasn't going to provide cover for much longer.
Desperately looking around, she knew there wasn't much hope. It was wide open along this stretch of road, only a drainage ditch ran alongside. Hardly any better than where she was.
With the thing occupied trying to bust into the car, she decided to go for it. Shoving herself out of the broken window, she took only the time needed to gather her feet before bolting, her heart pounding wildly with every step. She gained only a handful of strides before the cruiser gave one last ear-splitting shriek and the beast gave a snarling roar. Thundering steps shook the ground and threatened to wipe out her shaky balance. Darcy knew she only had seconds. Pouring everything she had into the last few steps, she dove for the ditch. Wind ghosted over her back as she missed getting hit by scant inches.
Another roar she expected, the sadistic laughter she did not, and it turned her veins to ice. Rolling over in the ditch, she finally got a proper look at the thing attacking her and promptly wished she hadn't.
It was a vaguely humanoid shaped robot towering over her, glowing red lights somehow expressing psychotic madness and reflecting off two hands reaching for her, clawed digits eager for destruction.
"Clever one indeed, but running is useless," the thing rumbled and Darcy had just long enough to recognize the brush-guard of the Mustang on the thing's chest before a giant hand descended to grab her.
Moving into the deepest part of the ditch and pressing her body as close to the ground as possible, Darcy managed to keep herself just out of reach. The thing would have to take a handful of dirt if it wanted to grab her now. Not exactly a deterrent, it would only work once.
Screeching tires and dual snarling engines in the nearing distance gave Darcy the courage to stall one last time. Pulling the gun that had been useless against the thing as a car, she aimed for what was hopefully its face. Using the red lights as targets, she squeezed the trigger.
The robot rearing back, shouting indiscernible curses as it clutched its head. It did have a weak point in this form then. Struggling back to her feet, she took off in the direction of the incoming cars. All she needed was a few seconds, thirty yards. With a roar, the ground lurched and Darcy made it only six steps before finding herself surrounded by metal. Four steel digits wrapped harshly around her, binding her body in place and squeezing the breath out of her lungs. The gun fell harmlessly from her grasp.
"Stupid flesh bag," it snarled, hoisting her up into the air and tightening its grip until her ribs threatened to give way. The world spun and her stomach lurched into her throat as the giant turned and bent back down. With its free hand, it grabbed onto what she could dimly recognize as half of her cruiser. Turning, the robot hurled the piece towards the closing vehicles.
Tires squealed as the hunk of car crashed onto the pavement, narrowly missing a blessedly familiar black truck and Charger as they swerved out of the way. Relief clashed with confusion and panic as the two cars exploded upward, pieces coming together in the similar fashion of the Mustang, until two large, robotic machines stood in their place.
"Leave the human alone, Barricade," Row's voice warned from the black and white that had been the Charger. Darcy felt her head spin as reality continuously threatened to slip away. Was Row controlling the thing from the inside?
"Put her down so I can tear you apart!" the black one demanded, giant glowing cannons whining at full charge on its arms. Who was controlling that one then? She could make out Lennox standing next to the thing and that had definitely not been his voice.
"Tempting," the sarcasm was thick even through the mechanical tone the voice carried. "One more step from either of you and I squeeze."
The grip on her body loosened only enough to let her catch her breath before tightening again, forcing her to let it out again in a gasp as the pressure pulled on her dislocated shoulder.
"What do you want?" Row's voice echoed out of the black and white again.
The faux-Mustang shrugged, jostling the detective enough to keep firm the reminder of her precarious position. "Your head in my trophy room."
Darcy could hear the sinister edge to the voice echoing above her head. He meant every word and it was terrifyingly stunning to have all the theories confirmed on just how evil the people she was after were. And she was trapped in the robotic claws of one of them as it cackled again, "But not yet, I havespecialplans for you."
The beast moved backwards, taking a thunderous step that rattled every bone in her beaten body. The world spun. Darcy forced herself to focus on the Charger and the truck, on her last chance of safety. The black and white hadn't moved an inch, it was steady as a rock. The truck was an entirely different story. Massive cannons whined and pulsed as it constantly shifted its weight from one pillar-like leg to another.
Static and an assortment of technologic tones burst through the air in such quick succession that she quickly lost track of which robot they were coming from. The monster that held her did stop moving and for that she was grateful. With her left arm going numb, it finally gave her the chance to catch what little breath she could in the painful grip.
She couldn't spot Lennox anymore, all she could see was what was illuminated by the headlights still shining from the chests of the robots, and that didn't reveal much but pieces of broken asphalt and metal.
"Ha!" The faux-truck let out a sharp laugh and Darcy suddenly found herself staring straight into the glowing barrels of his twin cannons. "If you think we're just gonna let you leave then you're even dumber than I thought!"
"Go ahead," her captor growled, holding her directly in front of its chest, "Unless you do exactly as I say then this flesh bag's termination isyourfault, and that violates dear old Prime's orders, doesn't it?"
"Ironhide," the Charger rumbled after a brief standoff, Row's voice back to a monotone that gave nothing away.
Whatever the command meant, the black behemoth stood his ground for one agonizingly long minute before the cannons dropped and powered down.
"Let the human go, she's of no use to you." Darcy stayed as still as she possibly could as Row gave his order, attempting in some pitiful way to stay out of the focus of the thing holding her. She had never before been so completely and utterly helpless in the face of something so dangerous, and it took focusing on the pain and every detail she could see to stave off the rising panic. Questions rattled off in her head faster than she could consciously think of them, but with every passing second in the beast's grasp, she knew it became less and less likely she would ever learn the answer to one.
"Perhaps not now, but I'll find a use for it." The sadistic glee in Barricade's voice was missed by no one and it zapped every bit of warmth from the detective's blood. "Any idiotic rescue attempts and I'll throw its pieces across the highway."
Darcy didn't have the chance to whimper her fear before the robotic beast whirled around and exploded again. Metal parts and pieces crashed passed her as the hand that had been holding her disappeared, dropping her towards the asphalt below. The release of the pressure on her lungs gave her just long enough to let out a partial scream before she was caught, scant inches from the ground, by hard leather. Panting as the confusing terror only escalated, it took the detective only one painful moment to realize two very important things: she was trapped in the psychotic Mustang as it roared down the road with her only hope of help fast disappearing in the rearview, andno one was driving.
"So what's the plan?" Lennox butted in as they watched Barricade's tail lights disappear down the road, furious at the helplessness they had all felt at being unable to help her. Any move and the 'Con would have crushed her or dropped her. Their hands had been tied quite firmly.
He and Ironhide turned to Prowl, they both understood, but neither liked that he had let the 'Con take the detective. But he wasn't the tactician for nothing. Certainly he had a plan ready.
"Nothing," was his curt reply as he turned his back on the wrecked remains of Darcy's cruiser.
Lennox felt his jaw slacken and found himself at a total loss for words. Ironhide did not. "What the frag do ya mean nothing? We can't just let him get away!"
"That is exactly what we are going to do. Now let us find somewhere more secure before another human gets involved." He dropped back into his alt mode in one smooth move and was driving off before either Autobot or soldier could get another word in. Prowl knew they were angry with him, he could hear it in the excessively loud snarling of the weapons specialist's engine when he finally transformed and caught up; he could see it in the flush on the Major's face, who would no doubt be fully voicing his opinion once the solid metal of Ironhide's door no longer separated them.
"What the frag was that, Prowl? You just let him get away!" Ironhide snarled as they rolled into an abandoned warehouse. Lennox barely cleared the cab before his Guardian burst out in a violent transformation. "I should'a blasted him when I had the chance!"
"Then the detective would be dead and we'd have an entirely different conversation with Prime," Prowl snipped.
"Is that a crack against my aim?" Ironhide rumbled dangerously.
The tactician was unfazed by the unspoken threat. "Whether or not the blast radius would have harmed her is irrelevant. Barricade would have ensured his last act would result in her termination. This was the only course that kept her alive."
"But for how long?" Lennox cut in, pacing back and forth between the two mechs. "You've seen what they've been doing to people, how long until she's the next victim?"
"Barricade will not kill her, not yet." Prowl had made the most logical choice of course, really, it was theonlychoice, but that did not mean it bothered him any less. No, he was quite irritated that Barricade of all mechs had managed to outmaneuver him and snatch the human under his protection. And a part of him was concerned for the woman's life. Oh he had little doubt that the Decepticon fully intended to terminate her only when Prowl could see, but that did not mean the other 'Cons would be in agreement on waiting. No, Prowl was quite furious the detective had gotten herself into this mess and that his enemy had found a way to so completely neutralize him. Unlike the other two, however, he had just learned to conceal such emotions. Only the stiffness of his doorwings revealed what he might be feeling and neither Ironhide nor Lennox had learned how to read them.
"How are you so sure?" Lennox snapped, a sick feeling settling into his gut. Next to Starscream, the Decepticon scout was the last mech he wanted to see any person's life in the hands of.
"He believes I am her Guardian; if he is going to terminate her, he's going to do it in front of me, once her use as leverage is up," Prowl stated straight-faced.
"Just how long until that happens?" the Major asked, wondering if the 'Cons would really reach that point before they just tired of keeping her alive.
Prowl vented, optics tracking to the dark horizon in the direction the woman and Decepticon had vanished in. "Until the moment we disobey Barricade's order and go after them."
Darcy did not know for how long she sat in silence in the cruiser, half utterly confused on what she had witnessed and half terrified of the answers. The radio was off and the windows had all blacked out some time ago, giving her absolutely no idea of time or location. She'd tried to memorize the turns and the seconds between, but it hadn't taken long for her to lose count, nor did it help that the Mustang strained at eighty miles an hour as much as it did twenty. With no view of the outside world, she couldn't even be sure of how fast the car was going. Every second felt like an hour in the silence. They could have gone three miles or three hundred. Frustration and fear burned her eyes. There was nothing she could do to save herself, nothing she could get out to anyone who could save her. She was avictimand she'd never been so helpless.
Unable to remember the route or forget the pain, she settled with studying the interior, looking for any indication of the robotic beast it could become. She found none and it was that much more frightening. How could she get away from an enemy she couldn't recognize?
Wait. The robotic sigil on the Charger, it had been emblazoned on the steering wheel of both it and the truck. Glancing across to the empty driver's side, only the light of the dash gave any indication of what could be there. Purple stitching of a triangular face, almost fox-like.
It was something, but it also meant she wouldn't know unless she was alreadyinone of these...things.
The silence dragged on and on, grated frayed nerves. There was nothing to focus on but the pain in her shoulder. There was one avenue of helping herself that could be worth attempting, but knowing what these people...things...had already done left little hope that it could be successful. She opened her mouth, unsure of what she was actually going to say but knowing she had to try.
"If you value your pathetic life, meatbag, you'll keep silent," Barricade's disembodied voice interjected before she could utter a sound. She snapped her jaw shut. Following orders was definitely the best way to stay alive in this case. So in silence she sat, willing time to pass but afraid of what she might face on the other end of this drive. Her imagination was left to wander for hours. For the sake of her sanity, she forced it to play out all the different ways her escape or rescue could come.
Whatever road they were on pitched up without warning and continued inclining. Up, up, up it went, until Darcy knew there was only one place she could be being taken, and it made the possibility of rescue or escape on the higher end of impossible. The mountains. What mountain in which range there was no way of knowing and she felt the last shreds of hope shrivel and die. Was it the Cascades or Sierra Nevadas like the map had revealed? Or was it somewhere else entirely? A blank space on the map, void of victims and so easily overlooked?
Barricade….or was it Barricade's robot? Whatever the Mustang was, it kept utterly quiet during the tedious drive. Hours or days could have passed, she had no idea, and when the windows flashed clear again, there was nothing to tell her just how long it had been.
There was no warning to the sudden flash of light and even the dullness of it was enough to temporarily blind her. The seat beneath her pitched sideways, dumping her unceremoniously onto hard, cold ground. Darcy took her time getting up, focusing on the details of her surroundings as much as possible, looking for anything she could use.
Her chances were even bleaker than she'd known. Patchwork metal ran up the length of forty foot walls in a room the size of a football stadium. Blue neon lights ran along those walls, disappearing down multiple corridors that tipped up, down, and every direction. The drive had told her she'd be in the mountains, she just never would have guessed she'd end upinthe mountain, smack in the center of a complex, man-made tunnel system.
Little wonder NEST had not been able to find it.
"Tell me, Barricade," a dark voice sneered from the other end of the cavern. Twin red lights shone in stark contrast to the blue tint cast on the room. Eyes, Darcy told herself, they had to be the eyes of the robots. A massive body followed those eyes into the center of the room. This new beast dwarfed the Mustang even as the faux cop car twisted up into its own robotic form. Inverted wings tilted up as the thing sneered at her abductor. "Just why is Soundwave picking up Autoscum chatter about you kidnapping meatsacks?"
Half of that question flew straight over the detective's head and she wasn't about to work through it right now. The snide voice, the overbearing presence, and confidence of this new robot was a personality she recognized. Whoever was controlling this robot was in charge and the fact that it was so huge and hadmissilessecured to the arms only further confirmed her conclusion that this was one not messed with lightly.
The ex-Mustang gave a half shrug with an ugly smirk. "I snagged it right out from under the tactician's watch."
Darcy jumped back as the leader harshly turned and backhanded the smaller robot. "You fragged glitch! We don't want the Autoscum's attention yet!"
The snarl that quickly twisted his face told Darcy just how much Barricade respected this leadership. Perhaps it was the rush of adrenaline and desire to live talking, but maybe, just maybe, this was a dynamic she could use. Kill the snake by turning the body against the head, right?
"Lucky for your pathetic life," the colossal beast continued, turning to walk down one of the corridors, "I can still salvage this plan. We'll begin Stage Two sooner."
Darcy wasn't sure how a robot could display so many obvious emotions, but she was sure Barricade was barely reining himself in from lunging at the leader. She was sorely disappointed that the self-control lasted long enough for the interruption to swing both their attention elsewhere.
The explosion sent her to the floor and rattled every bone in her body even as the echo of it lasted far longer than the source itself. There was no debris, no flame or smoke or other indication that the sound had a source, except for the new robot that was suddenly in the middle of the room. Purple colored seemingly random pieces of metal on its body, but otherwise it was an almost identical twin to the leader. Neither of the other robots were fazed by the sound, instead they appeared more annoyed by the sudden presence than surprised by it. Where had it come from? The floor was solid, the ceiling whole, and it definitely hadn't come from one of the corridors, but Darcy was far from ready to accept the alternative.
"Got another batch, boss!" it shouted in glee, holding out a handful of something. Whatever it was was blocked from her sight by its height, until it tipped its hand just enough for the lighting to reflect off four pale faces. Human faces. She couldn't look away even as the bile rose in her throat. More people destroyed by monsters, more lives lost in a war no one knew was being fought.
"You idiot, humans can't survive your bridges," Barricade growled.
"He can still use them, can't he?" the newcomer asked, wings dipping down as it turned its hand back and forth.
The leader snarled. "Shockwave needslivetest subjects! Now go dump those before they start to stink!"
It gave a snappy salute before the air around it warped. It lasted only a second before the explosive sound shook the walls again and the robot vanished completely. There was no denying it now, no matter how much she wanted to, she had seen for herself both sides of teleportation. Just where did their technology end? At the very least, it appeared that not all of them had the ability, or at least weren't as prone to using it.
"Get rid of it, Barricade," the leader snapped now that the third was gone. "Or it's your aft being handed to the Autobots when they come knocking too soon."
Darcy's terror spiked. This was it; here she was going to die because she couldn't simply hand the case over to someone who was actually qualified to deal with it. For the first time, she cursed her own determination.
"No." Hope dared to spark again. Even if Barricade had something much worse planned for her, at least death would wait a little longer. "She's Prowl's pet."
"All the more reason to be rid of it!"
The Mustang growled, "Starscream…".
"IT. IS. LORD!" the newly named Starscream shouted, pointing his left arm at her. "Give me one reason not to reduce the meatsack to atoms."
"LordStarscream." Darcy couldhearhow difficult the title was for the Mustang to force out. If she made it out of this meeting, she was definitely going to find a way to exploit this rift. "You planned to use humans as leverage against the Autobots already, imagine how much more leverage you could gain by using their own charges against them."
If she had not been conscious for the confrontation with Row and his robots earlier, Barricade's proposal would have told her nothing of the personal vendetta he was more interested in. He was smarter and more cunning than she'd given him credit for. His danger level just increased exponentially.
Starscream paused, contemplating the idea, but there was a shadow of suspicion to his gaze that told the detective he wasn't the leader for nothing. He knew his soldiers or at least knew what they were capable of. Darcy forced herself to fight against the pain and the fear to focus on every glance. She'd need everything if she dared hope to try to turn them against each other.
A wicked grin split across the winged robot's face as its eyes turned to her. "That's not a bad idea after all. Take her to Knock Out and get her chipped."
He gave the shorter an amused sideways glance, "And get that optic fixed."
With that, Starscream turned and strut out of the room, his parting words leaving behind a menacing echo, "I've got some hunting to do.".
She didn't have a second to ponder the meaning of any of that before steel was wrapping around her and hoisting her up again. Her shoulder ground against the joint but refused to pop back in, leaving her to grind her teeth and use every ounce of self control to keep from crying out. A whimper escaped anyway, but Barricade ignored her as he took a path only he knew through the maze of corridors.
"The conditions of this place are absolutely horrendous! My finish gets tarnished just being down here!" a voice echoed out of a room the Mustang was approaching.
"It's not that bad, it gets worse when you go out racing," a second, deeper voice cut in, underlined with amusement.
"Not the point, Breakdown! This sorry excuse for a medbay is the worst! Starscream gave it to me on purpose." Barricade was only three steps from the doorway and Darcy braced herself for whatever it was she was going to see on the other side.
"Lord Starscream has better things to do than torment us."
Barricade rounded through the opening that had no true door as far as Darcy could see, cutting off whatever the first voice was going to respond with. "I have better things to do than listen to your whining."
A giant blue robot was the first thing to stand out, complete with off-road tires and a boxy chest, she had to guess it transformed into some sort of 4x4 SUV. The other mechanoid was smaller, close to Barricade's size and all sleek curves and red paint. Sports car maybe?
With a large dosing of luck, Darcy hoped she might somehow escape with the knowledge of all the mad robots' alternative forms. At least it could give her the advantage of knowing which cars to avoid if she made it out of here. That was a big if.
"Barricade, to what do we owe thepleasure?" the red one sneered, flexing impressively sharp talons on one hand and leisurely waving the other arm, which instead of a hand at the end, sported a rather nasty looking drill.
"Replace my optic and chip the fleshbag." He thrust Darcy towards the red mech, who in turn backed half a step and waved at the larger.
"Deal with the organic, Breakdown. Now what did you do to the optic this time? They're not easy to get replacements these days, you know." The detective could only deduce that this was Knock Out and sorely hoped she would never have to personally deal with him. One poke from those claw-like fingers and she would be skewered through.
Barricade's grip on her suddenly slackened until she slipped from his hand and landed hard on the waiting palm of Breakdown. She expected the blunt fingers to snap closed around her, but they only curled up slightly, leaving her to sit under her own power. It was a welcome change even if it did nothing to ease the pain in her body.
"The fleshbag shot it," the Mustang growled as Knock Out grabbed his head and forced it down. The drill disappeared with a hiss and a clang of metal, replaced by another clawed hand. They coulddothat!? Said hand didn't hesitate and two sharp fingers stabbed into Barricade's injured eye and ripped it out. The faux cop reared back, swearing in languages and tones she'd never heard. Knock Out paid him no mind as he turned the piece in his hand over and over.
"Totally useless," he announced after a moment, tossing it over his shoulder and into a large pile of scrap metal. "You are in luck today, for I do actually have a spare from one of Shockwave's...volunteers."
Digging through a different pile of scraps, he pulled out what had to be another optic of similar size and proceeded to slam it right into Barricade's face. "There! All better."
The swearing continued for another long spell before there was a faint sound of machinery powering up and the eye flared to life. It flashed a brilliant, vibrant blue for several seconds until it faded and was overpowered by red.
Darcy was so distracted by the fact that they'd just completely replaced aneyewith all the grace and caution of a caveman that she failed to notice the medic until he was right in front of her.
"Arm, squishy," he commanded. Darcy hesitated, until one of those talons moving towards her prompted obedience.
"So, squishy shoots your optic and gets to live, what am I missing?" Knock out asked as he thrust a fat needle into her forearm and injected...something that glowed for a breath.
"Nothing you need to know," Barricade snarled, snatching her up the second the medic was clear.
"Hmph. Well at least this one doesn't make so much noise. The others can be so annoying." He waved them off, drill reappearing as he turned to whatever he'd been doing before. "Now Breakdown, really, you'd understand the thrill of racing if you'd chosen an alt form…"
His voice muffled as the Mustang left the room and turned down the hall. A now hurting right forearm on top of everything else was too much to let the obedient silence continue. "What was that?"
Rubbing the spot he'd injected her to wipe away the blood, she could feel a hard bump under her skin that pinched every time she felt it.
"Tracker," he grunted, before a twisted smirk stretched his facial plates. "And if you try to cut it out, it will kill you."
Of course, because what was an advanced tracking device if it couldn't kill you too? Darcy internally swore, but then she recalled Knock Out's other comments and frowned.
"Others?" she asked before she could think to stop herself or hesitate.
He didn't answer this time, lowering his hand to drop her to the floor. "One more, Ravage."
Ravage? Now who was Ravage? Just how many of these things were there?! Darcy pulled herself back onto her feet and turned to face this newest threat. A humanoid robot she expected. A mechanical panther she did not. The cat was easily twice the size of a lion and sported a single large red eye, and a wickedly spiked tail.
It just couldn't get worse, could it?
Unfortunately, the answer always seemed to be yes.
Ravage grabbed the back of her shirt with its teeth and pulled her as easily as a cat does a mouse. Dragging her into the room it had been guarding, it released without warning and sauntered back to the doorway, dropping down with its back to the room. The detective wondered if these things actually slept and just how difficult it might be to sneak past a feline guard. That is until, of all things, a Gatling gun popped out of its hips and pointed straight into the room.
"Darcy?" an aged, exhausted,humanvoice questioned.
She froze, wishing with all her might that the voice did not belong to the man she thought. Not him, she pleaded silently, let him be anywhere but here, anywhere safer.
A leathery hand fell on her uninjured shoulder, turning her around to the familiar face she had desperately searched for. The sob she had fought so hard to hold back broke free the second her eyes landed on him.
"John." it was all she could choke out before she threw her good arm around him. He was alive at least, even if the situation was so much worse than she'd ever imagined. He was alive, and a small part of her was relieved that she wouldn't have to face all of this terror alone. But she was scared all the same. He was thinner and looked to have aged another ten years in the last couple weeks. She could lose him again, permanently. Both their lives in the paws of a robotic cat with an automatic gun on its back.
When he clung tightly to her, pressing her into his chest, she felt the hold on the confusion and fear slipping away. With John, she didn't have to be strong all the time. Relief, terror, exhaustion, stress, all took their toll and crashed over her head. John squeezed her tighter and the last shreds of her composure fell apart.
Chapter 13: House of Cards
Notes:
Warning: This and the next chapter get gruesome. As in worse than anything we've seen so far. If that kind of thing really bothers you, either back out now or proceed with caution. This is Decepticons being the level of evil they've always been touted to be but never shown as such. You've been warned!
Chapter Text
When truth is buried it grows, it chokes, it gathers such an explosive force that on the day it bursts out, it blows up everything with it. ~Emile Zola
It was some time before Darcy pulled herself together enough to release John from the death grip she had on him. He'd brought them to a secluded corner of the cavern and she became quite aware of the others surrounding them. Forty-some mats, blankets, and haphazard piles of fabric were strewn about the floor as far from the entrance as they could possibly get. A single tube of that odd blue lighting ran the length of a single wall, casting eerie shadows on the haggard faces of the humans occupying those make-shift beds. Varying levels of defeat sagged their shoulders.
John looked no better, weariness clung to him like a second skin.
Darcy swallowed thickly, casting a glance towards the robotic cat in the doorway. "How many are there?"
John followed her gaze. If the thing could hear them, it made no sign of caring. Even so, they kept their voices as quiet as they could.
"No one knows. At least six regulars at any given time, but more come and go to bring more victims…" he shook his head, "They've got at least a hundred captives, but they keep us separated so I can't say just how many are here."
Ice crept down Darcy's spine. A hundred! Either they really had gotten better at keeping people alive or the other points on her map were other dumping grounds. Just how many had lost their lives already? She didn't want to know, but she knew she needed to find out.
"What are they doing with so many?" It was difficult to make out any real details in the poor lighting, but it did not look like any of the people in this particular room were suffering any of the horrific injuries that had been inflicted upon the victims in the dumping ground. Were these all NEST relatives then? There was still no clear reason for the targeting in the first place, especially since NEST personnel hadn't even been aware that their loved ones were in the hands of the enemy.
The older man released a long suffering sigh, gesturing weakly to the others with them. "We're the lucky ones, use us to mine some volatile crystals they use to power everything. But others...they experiment on. Why or what for, I don't know, but sometimes we can hear the screams. I would have assumed it was straight torture except I heard one ofthemmention needing more subjects for the next trials."
She barely kept herself from physically reeling back. The torture had been clear and obvious, but to have all of that done in the name ofexperiments? What the hell were they testing? The corrosive chemical or how to cause the most painful death imaginable? But that couldn't totally be it. It still didn't explain the NEST connection or why this particular group was used for mining instead of being included in the experimentation.
Too many questions and she doubted answers would be very forthcoming from these things. Opening her mouth, Darcy promptly snapped it shut again. What was there even to say?
Nothing, and John was aware of it as he looked her over. "Come here, we need to get that shoulder back in place before it becomes totally useless."
Darcy nodded, pulling the collar of her jacket between her teeth. Hardly the first time the joint had been out of place in her life, but certainly the longest and now most painful instance of it. John gave her no warning or countdown as he leveled her arm into position and snapped it back into place. She groaned through the fabric, gaining a flicked ear from the mechanical cat in the doorway.
John tore a strip from his own jacket, ignoring the immediate protests from his replacement. "Shut up and take the help, Darcy."
She doubted this cavern got any warmer than the chill it was already drenched in, but the jacket was already torn. The strip couldn't be returned to it so followed his order, allowing him to secure her arm in a mock sling.
"You won't be able to keep it on when they send us down to dig, but it'll help for now." He sat back, shaking his head with a sigh. "How the hell did you get yourself caught?"
Darcy rubbed her head, wincing at the pull on every injury that were quickly making themselves known now that the shoulder had been reduced to a ringing ache. Her entire body felt like one giant, bloody, bruise.
"The FBI never got my call. It was intercepted by the unit set up to fight them," she gestured towards the guard, who had one ear pointed straight back at them. At this point she no longer cared if the thing overheard,Barricadeknew it all anyway. "The one they sent, Row, has a beef with the one that grabbed me. Probably more for a personal slight than anything against me."
"So Row got you involved."
She gave a single-shouldered shrug. "Would have happened eventually. They grabbed you after we found their disposal sight and you weren't even on the force anymore."
Another slight, but against her or Row? That one was unclear.
The older man cocked his head, "Know anything useful about them?"
Her eyes flashed to the cat, still one ear turned but otherwise appearing asleep. If robots actually slept. "Bulletproof as a car, not as a robot. Managed to snuff the eye of the one that grabbed me, but it took all of thirty seconds for it to get replaced."
"Not promising or very useful."
"I don't even knowwhatthey are. Drones? Robotic suits? A.I. gone rogue?" She watched the cat for any sort of twitch that might reveal which was the bullseye. It revealed nothing.
John frowned in thought, crossing his arms over his chest. "I have yet to see a human who wasn't a victim wandering around here."
"Remote controlled? We've got UAVs, why not cars? The advanced tech could fit there." Even she knew it was a stretch and didn't quite fit. These things were just a bit to...personalized.
"That talk? That have terminology and an apparent language of their own? No, I don't think humans are involved at all here, at least not anymore." It sounded insane, crazy, ridiculous, and yet itfit. Some of the things she'd been called already certainly made it sound like there was a large disconnect between their metal bodies and her soft organs, as if they looked down on it.
Major Lennox and Row were another factor. Why send flesh and blood if metal was under their control? No, the men were there to provide that human element.
Logically, it made sense and yet still sounded like it was straight out of a bad syfy flick. Either way, it provided a grim outlook for them. "So we're in the middle of I, Robot only we can't always tell when one is right in front of us."
John grimaced, rubbing a hand over his face. "So it seems."
Prowl paced across the empty hanger as dawn slowly relit the world. The dim morning casting its light on ridged door wings and a metal frame as taut as a charged cannon. Battle programming fired a hundred different scenarios and plans every second and he contemplated each and every one before shooting the thought down. They didn't have enough information to act on and at the moment, there was little way of getting more.
"Yer wearin' a hole in the fragging floor," Ironhide snipped as he adjusted parts on his favorite gun.
The tactician cast a brief glance to the concrete beneath him before continuing as he was, biting out a sharp, "No, I am not,".
"It was your pit-spawned idea to let him get away," the weapons specialist growled, irritated beyond anything that they had spent theentirenight sitting on their afts waiting for reinforcements. Well, he had sat; Prowl had paced nearly the entire time and it was grating the last of his very little patience.
"There wasn't another option and you know it." While his tone did not waver, there was an icy coldness that the black mech knew was reserved solely for any situation regarding the SIC's arch enemy.
"So what options do we have now?" Lennox cut in before his Guardian was tempted to start a brawl. He wasn't even sure which Cybertronian would come out on top.
Prowl's stony silence was by far the most deafening reply the soldier had ever heard. The tactician cast a glance at Ironhide, knowing the big mech was not going to like what he had to say or the plan that was coming together in his processor. "We need more intel before we can make any sort of offensive move."
"Stuck on defense again then," Ironhide snarled, "I'm gettin' real sick of sitting on my aft and waiting for the scum to do something."
"There is not much else that can be done until we know where their base is located."
"What about the trackers you put on the detective?" Ironhide asked, gaining a surprised and disapproving frown from Lennox.
Prowl was predictably unfazed by the look. "I was never able to get one on her person."
Lennox shook his head. "I knew about the one on her car, but chipping a person is beyond unethical, Prowl."
"And yet would be useful at this point, since personal chips, while having a shorter range, cannot be blocked by conventional cloaking."
"Not the point." The soldier could never remind himself in time to not try arguing with the black and white, the mech was as stubborn as a team of mules and as likely to change his mind as one.
"There is no point," Prowl interjected before they could continue falling further off course from the conversation that really mattered. "The closest I was able to chip the detective was her badge and that signal disappeared the moment Barricade left with her."
"You think he got rid of it?" Ironhide asked, shifting his weight in leu of giving in to the urge to pace.
Prowl shook his head. "He would have had to know it was there in the first place. The chips are invisible to all but the ones with the right frequency. The trick will be getting it out from under Soundwave's cover."
"And how exactly do we do that?" the weapons specialist snapped, growing increasingly agitated with the back-and-forth that was keeping them firmly in square one.
Prowl turned his blue gaze to the soldier below. "We need someone who knows what is going on on the inside to get information and that tracker out."
Ironhide snarled, slamming a massive foot down between the Major and SIC.
"You are not using my charge as bait because you couldn't protect yours!" he roared, cannons rolling forward in a deadly display Lennox had only ever seen used against Decepticons.
"If you have a better idea, please do share," Prowl stated, staring down the twin guns with little regard for their power.
It was silent save for the hum of the charged weapons, the tension painfully thick. Lennox stepped out from behind his friend. "I'll do it."
Ironhide's engine revved sharply and the soldier quickly amended, "We can set a trap, try to capture the 'Con that comes after me to interrogate him. But if we can't take him alive, let him take me."
It was insane. There was zero guarantee the 'Con wouldn't just try to kill him right then and there. But Barricade hadn't killed Darcy when he'd had the chance to do so, his chances were probably the best they were ever going to be for being captured alive.
The truck was still growling, but Prowl beat him to speaking, "It is unlikely it will be a grounder that comes for you, if one does at all. They fear Ironhide's cannons too much to risk an open one-on-one."
Said mech snorted, "Rightly so."
"We will have to create a plausible excuse for you not to be with him," Prowl continued. "The Decepticons may be foolish but not all of them are dumb, if they smell a trap we will not have a second chance."
Lennox nodded, hand coming up to rub his chin as he worked through plausible ideas. "They're willing to attack in the open but I don't think they're ready for an outright declaration. We'll hit an uncrowded highway; a flyer won't want to risk getting tangled in the trees."
Prowl's optics sparked with his version of approval. "Ironhide will scout a quarry where he cannot stay in alt mode, then they will know you are with me."
"Do I not get a say in this?" the other mech snapped, his guns finally powering down but continuing to spin and shift on his arms.
Prowl hardly spared him a glance. "You had your say and were overruled. We will need to act quickly; Starscream will think he's being unpredictable the sooner he acts."
"How long until he makes his move?" Lennox asked. It was definitely the last sort of plan he wanted to go through with, but if it meant the chance at stopping the 'Cons once and for all, then he'd do it. Hell, if all they managed to do was save the humans that had been captured, then it would be worth it.
He hoped.
"Within the week." It didn't give them much time to prepare, but war rarely gave notice.
The Major nodded, shifting to start rolling up the sleeve on his left arm. "Guess you better chip me then, just in case I can't get to the badge."
Prowl shot him a blank look. "You were chipped a long time ago."
They had several hours to themselves where John filled her in on how it had been since he was taken. Apparently once a day one of the robots would toss in a sack of food that looked and tasted like it had been pulled from the dumpster behind a bakery. Protein was rare, but asking for anything more was a sure way to get a loaded gun in the face. They didn't appear to care much for keeping up the overall health of anyone, but there was a marked annoyance when one of them died during their periods of rest, followed by a prompt removal of the body. The captives were made clearly aware of the fact that they were not the only humans and that it would not take much for them to be 'transferred' to one of the other groups where survival was markedly lower.
The cat shifted from his position at the door, standing and moving aside as a new, silver and black, robot stepped into view. It was roughly the same size as Knock Out, though the paint was covered in a layer of soot.
"Move it, fleshbags!" it snapped, prompting a flurry of terrified movement.
John reached over as they stood, undoing the sling and letting it drop to the floor. "Don't let them see any weakness."
Darcy followed close behind as the rest of the room filed out after the silver, everyone giving the cat a wide berth. As the detective passed, the feline gave a wicked grin. "Try not to lose too many, Sideways, they get annoying when one dies."
Sideways snorted, "No promises."
A bladed tail whipped around in front of Darcy, wrapping around her neck. Not tight enough to choke, but it prompted her to stay perfectly still, the wicked edge of the blade at the end kissing her cheek. The cat purred as it moved to stand next to her, damn near as tall as she was. "Do make an attempt with this one. This isProwl'spet. It would be so….unfortunate if he were not around to witness its termination."
Darcy very much wished the cat had kept that bit of information to itself, given the wicked gleam that had just entered the silver robot's red eyes.
Why? Why did they keep thinking she was someone's pet? Or in any way important to one of their enemies? Row had been continuously trying to get rid of her, at best she'd been of minor help, but by no means did shemeananything to him!
Yet she knew arguing the fact would be pointless. They'd hardly believe her and for now, it was a little incentive to keep her alive.
It was also an incentive for extra attention that she knew she wouldn't enjoy.
"Didn't think Prowl was the type; he's gotten just as soft as the rest of them," Sideways chuckled.
The cat's metal tail unraveled from Darcy's neck, leaving only a thin cut on her cheek. She silently wished the robotic feline choked on a hairball.
Sideways shifted, a massive metal foot grinding a loose rock to dust under his weight. "Get moving squishy, pet or not you work or die."
Needing no second prompting, Darcy hurriedly caught up to the rest of the group, falling into step beside a concerned John. Her shoulder screamed, but she forced it to move as naturally as the other. Pain would have to be ignored. She could see the others fighting through it, daring to show no weariness or aches.
They walked in silence down several corridors, heads bowed to avoid the glances of the few robots that passed and were willing to lower themselves enough to even look. They were ants in stature and in value of life to these things. How could A.I. have gone so terribly wrong?
Some of the rooms they passed were guarded by robots of equal size to Ravage and behind them more captives, more victims she was helpless to save.
The passages were slanting downward, heading deeper and deeper into the heart of the mountain. Every step the air grew hotter and more stale. That...wasn't right. Weren't all underground caves supposed to hover right around fifty-five fahrenheit? At least she thought she recalled one of the search and rescue guys mentioning as such over the winter.
A soft sound pulled at her ears, like the squeaking of a mouse, but wrong somehow. It was getting louder the deeper they went, changing tones, fading and rapidly growing again. Her stomach twisted, jumping to her throat as it got loud enough to make out what it really was. Not the squeaking of rodents at all. Screaming, tortured cries and pleas for death.
It was a sound Darcy knew she would never be able to forget.
Louder and louder it grew, the source finally revealing itself as another large cavern encased in a purple glow. Sideways gestured flippantly to it as he passed the opening, "This is what happens when you fail to work."
Darcy felt an invisible punch that sucked the air from her lungs as she forced herself to look at what awaited the weak and injured. A huge purple robot was the only metallic being in the room that was emitting all the heat, its huge solitary red eye casting a glow that mixed with the blue lights to give everything a sickly tainted lighting. People were everywhere, trapped in large tubes half-filled with a blue liquid, strapped to tables with various instruments and tools of torture jutting out of unnaturally bent bodies. There was more, too much more, but Darcy turned away as the bile rose in her throat. This was what had killed so many of her victims in that dumping ground, this was the end that awaited them all if they didn't figure out a way out.
Past the room of horrors the tunnel continued on, shrinking in size until it came to an end at a much smaller opening. A car could still get through easy enough, but anything larger than the cat that walked on two legs would not.
"Don't have all day, squishies, Shockwave always needs new test subjects." Sideways stopped at the smaller opening and the haphazard pile of digging tools in the entryway.
Digging? John had said they mined volatile crystals, but she hadn't imagined it would be with pickaxes and sledgehammers. That hardly seemed like a safe manner to go about harvesting something classified asvolatile.
Then again, they really didn't care if it wasn't their necks on the line.
Darcy obediently slung a pickaxe over her functioning shoulder and followed John down the smaller tunnel. Down and down the rabbit hole they went, following the lead who was hauling a smaller, rope-like version of the tube lights up above. It lit things poorly, but it wasn't lighting a match in a literal methane trap.
"So what the hell are we looking for?" Darcy asked several minutes into the descent. At least they couldn't hear the screams anymore, even if the air was heavy.
John stayed silent until they reached the end of the decline, where the tunnel opened up into a wide chamber. The center was dug up tall enough for Barricade to stand comfortably, but the edges were much more human-sized. All around, blue crystals glittered back at them, ranging in size from a pebble to larger than her. The retired detective brushed his hand against a larger one. "They call them energon crystals, apparently it's the natural form of their fuel. There's another thing, some type of metal they want, but we don't find much of it."
She wondered if NEST had to mine this stuff out of the ground too for their machines. "Why have us dig it out? They'd get it out a lot faster than we could."
Were they even capable of moving one of the massive crystals? She rather doubted they were lighter than they looked.
John shook his head. "It's unstable. A single spark down here and this place goes supernova. Also the rock is more prone to collapse. We do the work while they stay safe topside."
He gestured over to a pile of rubble where a cave-in had clearly occurred not terribly long ago. A mangled metal hand peeked out from under it, proving that the lesson in tunneling had been learned the hard way. No wonder the central ceiling was so high, at one point therehadbeen robots mining down here. "We've got to unbury him at some point too, they want the parts."
The queasiness from earlier came back. Not only did they have no problem with dealing death to humans, they also took little to no issue with the end of one of their own. Darcy blew out a heavy breath, wandering over to the rubble, dragging the pickaxe behind her. Grimacing at the pull on her shoulder, she swung with as much strength as she dared at the rocks covering the fallen robot. Perhaps in the time it took to uncover this one, they could find a weakness that could be exploited to gain their freedom. Everything had a weakness, even multi-ton, advanced, robotic, A.I.s.
Day after day they were sent to the mine. The energon crystals proved even heavier than they looked and impossible for human hands to get up the slope and out of the smaller tunnel. Only when they had a decent stockpile strapped together would one of the trucks back down, hook up to the pile, and haul it out. Every swing was murder on her injured shoulder, but each passing of the torture chamber was enough to motivate her to keep going. It motivated them all to the point of collapse. Some dropped in front of one of those things and was immediately swept off to be 'fodder for Shockwave'. Some were given a single day of rest before being removed if they still could not work. They were either other 'pets' or family of important NEST members, Darcy reasoned. They were wanted alive, but not enough to be given a free pass.
The days could only truly be kept track by the food deliveries. Once every twenty-four hours and just as John had said, looking like it was pulled from the dumpster behind a bakery. At best it was stale, at worst covered in mold. Their only water source a crudely created pool below a steady drip in the ceiling. It tasted neither fresh nor clean, but there was no other option.
Four days passed before a commotion stirred Darcy from her exhausted sleep. They were never given enough time between shifts down below, never enough to rest or plan.
Sitting up from the too-thin mat that was her bed, Darcy watched as a new captive was practically tossed into the room. The cat chuckled darkly, "Not so high and mighty without your Guardian now, are you?"
The detective felt her breath catch when the man turned towards them and she found herself looking into the face of Major Lennox.
Ignoring the cat, he pulled himself off the ground and walked straight towards Darcy, his hand grasping for a sidearm that was no longer there. Ravage growled but turned back towards the door, pausing only to hiss a warning before ducking out. "Leave this room and die."
"Where is your badge?" Lennox greeted in a hushed voice as he reached her. The question was so out of left field that it took Darcy several long seconds to realize just what he was asking for.
Pulling the chain out from under her shirt, she held up the golden badge she'd never taken off. "Right here."
"Good, it will be difficult to get it outside, but we'll figure something out," the soldier nodded, motioning for her to hand it over.
Darcy frowned as she reluctantly lifted the chain over her head. "What?"
The Major cast a quick glance to the empty doorway, dropping his voice even further. "Row put a tracker on it, but it won't work under all this rock. I've got one that does but its range is only about fifty miles. The one on that badge is over eight hundred."
When in the seven hells had Row put a tracker on her badge? Andwhywould he in the first place unless he suspected something like this would happen? As helpful as having him and his team know where they were would be, her spiking anger was competing strongly with any inclination towards relief. "One problem, I haven't seen daylight since we got here; so unless you know something I don't about this place, this badge is useless to us."
Still she handed it over and he tucked it away into an inner pocket on his jacket with a nod. Hedidknow about it and have a tracker himself. Perhaps his being captured….wasn't entirely unintentional? Maybe this was the plan, maybe he had a plan to get them out already.
She could only hope.
"Just let me worry about that, we need to start setting up a plan for us. Once the cavalry knows where we are, they're going to hit fast and hard. We need to be prepared to do our part."
Alright, so he didn't have an exact plan yet, but what he did have was a plethora of information. Information Darcy was beyond sick of being without.
She held up her hands to stop him. "Not until you give me the real andwholestory here."
The soldier paused, casting a glance around them and the still empty doorway, "Now?"
Darcy raised her brows in challenge, "We need to know exactly what we're up against here and what their weaknesses are. None of us have exactly seen many since getting here."
He sighed, shooting another look to the hall as if expecting Ravage to return. The cat did not. Darcy waited in silence. The slow progress she was making on the dead thing in the mine had provided very little to work with and she was no closer to finding a weakness they could use. They couldn't exactly drop a mountain on all of them.
Lennox dropped to sit on the empty mat across from her and Darcy fought to withhold the wince at knowing it had been occupied a day ago.
"It's a long story," he warned with a note of resignation.
The detective swung her good arm around. As tired as she was, this would be worth losing sleep over. "We've got nothing but time, Major."
He pursed his lips as John joined them, but relented. They would find out eventually anyway, the more they knew at this point, the better. So he told them everything, from the moment his base in Qatar had been wiped out to the brawl in Mission City, to the world-wide alliance with the Autobots.
Aliens. They were mechanical aliens. Living, thinking,alien, robotic lifeforms. The woman groaned, rubbing her temple in a poor effort to reduce the pounding behind her eyes. Aliens that had been at war with each other for longer than humanity had been on the planet.
What kind of crappy horror movie had she ended up in?
"So Prowl and Ironhide are part of the Autobots, what about Row?" Darcy finally asked, giving up on getting her brain to completely wrap around what he was telling her.
"Holoform. They can manipulate light and matter to form a physical body to blend in. They can transfer a little of themselves into the form to fully interact with other people, but they can't feel anything." He wasn't entirely clear on how exactly it worked. Wheeljack had attempted to explain it at one point but he'd lost every single human listening within the first minute.
Darcy frowned, unwilling for a moment to consider the ramifications of these things being able to blend in so seamlessly. "So Row…"
She trailed off, knowing the answer but not wanting to voice it allowed just yet. Lennox finished for her, confirming what she'd so wanted to deny. "Is Prowl."
The detective swore, but it was then that the cat-thealiencat-finally returned to his post, growling out as he slunk back, "Shut it, fleshbags."
There was no more talking the rest of the night. To disobey a direct order was to gain a one-way trip to the house of horrors, so the entire room fell into a deathly silence save for the steady drip of the water and the soft hum of Ravage's systems.
Darcy decided there was not a sound in the universe she hated more.
Chapter 14: House of Horrors
Chapter Text
Hope is the worst of evils, for it prolongs the torments of man. ~Nietzsche
Two weeks passed, as best as Darcy could tell. Two weeks of back-breaking labor. Two weeks of taunts and jabs about her Guardian failing her, about all the ways they were going to kill her in front of him. Barricade was especially creative and enjoyed flashing all of the weapons at his disposal at her. Some of the larger had it out for Ironhide more than Prowl and so directed their jeers at Lennox. She tried to ignore them like he did, tried not to let the images of those weapons dance too long in her mind. She couldn't shake the chill it sent to her bones or the knotting of her stomach that refused to go away, couldn't stop the dreams that forced her to live out every one of those threats.
Yet it was the belief of Prowl being her Guardian that was keeping her alive, so she didn't correct them.
Her shoulder refused to stay in place during their hours in the mine every day. Given no chance to heal, it continuously popped out of place when she swung the axe or hammer. John and Lennox tried to help get it back into socket, but it wouldn't get better until they got out of there. The soldier tried to come up with a plan, but Ravage kept utter silence at night when he was on guard duty and Darcy found herself quickly too exhausted to keep her eyes open when he wasn't.
No plan, no escape, and no hope.
Every day one of them would drop and be taken away, replaced by a new terrified face. Another woman had thrown out her shoulder, had insisted she could still work, but they took her away anyway. It wasn't long before her screams made it all the way down to the mine. Darcy doubted that even the belief of being Prowl's charge would keep her safe if she stopped, so she forced her body to keep moving, no matter how sluggish or numb it felt.
"We have to get out of here soon; we're not going to last much longer," John stated quietly as they worked on uncovering the buried Decepticon's midsection. It was a rare occasion that no guard was up top to supervise and listen so everyone was taking the chance to slow down and catch their breath. No one dared to stop, just in case, but every swing was a little slower, with a little less force behind it.
"I know," Lennox sighed, glancing at the younger detective who was attempting to study the revealed hip joint. Even in the poor light she looked pale and he doubted she was able to make much sense of the mess of wires and support struts under her gaze. "We have to find a way to the surface; the Autobots will have gathered reinforcements by now. All they need is to know where to look."
"And just how do you plan to do that?" Darcy snapped, her voice rough and scratching her parched throat. The axe was limp in her grip, the weight resting against the dead alien as she leaned against the cool metal in an effort to expel some of the heat in her body. She dared not sit completely for fear of being unable to stand again. "It's been weeks and they haven't changed a thing they do with us."
John hardly looked better than she did. Very few in their group had been there as long as he had, but only Lennox appeared to still be in any sort of fighting form.
"Follow the tunnels that go uphill, there has to be ways to get out on foot, they have too many grounders for there not to be," the Major suggested barely above a whisper. Such talk had been had before, but the problems that had prevented them before were all still very much present. There were too many people to move and too many Decepticons to get out unnoticed, especially when they didn't even know the layout of the upper tunnels.
"Sounds like a fantastic plan, what could possibly go wrong? When?" Darcy braced her weak arm up on a metal plate, a relieved breath escaping the moment the weight was off her shoulder.
Lennox glanced around, dropping his voice even further so that no one else could chance overhearing. "Tonight."
The detective choked, "Are you insane? How are we supposed to get all these people on board by tonight? And for that matter what about Ravage?"
The Major sighed, running a hand over his weary and filthy face. He was almost unrecognizable as the man she'd met a month ago. It was John who caught the look and realized what it meant. "You don't mean to take anyone else with us."
Darcy couldn't stop the accusatory glare she threw at the soldier, her head spinning. "I amnotgoing to just leave everyone else to be tortured when they find out we're gone."
Lennox met her glare with resignation, he hated the thought as much as she did, but he recognized the lack of choice in the manner. If any of them were going to get saved, then someone had to get out. "We have to. There are too many for us all to get out unnoticed. Once we're out, the Autobots will tear this place apart and get everyone else."
John dropped his hand on the woman's good shoulder, marking with concern the way it dropped under the light weight. "There isn't a choice, Darce, the sooner we get out, the sooner we can come back for the rest."
She hated the very idea and couldn't help looking around the dark mine at all the dirty faces forcing themselves to keep working. Unless the return was near immediate, some of them would no doubt be killed in anger at their escape. But continuing like this wasn't going to saveanyof them. She closed her eyes as the room spun and her gut twisted. It was signing the death warrants of a few to save the many, but it was the only choice they had. "What about Ravage? I don't imagine he'll be easy to sneak past."
"There's been a pattern to his guarding duties, he won't be there tonight," Lennox assured, picking up a piece of the dead robot and sticking it in his pocket.
Darcy chewed her cheek, baffled that something so simple had escaped her notice. "Fine, but the second we reach the Autobots we're coming back."
Both men nodded. "We wait until everyone is asleep."
The rest of the shift in the mine passed in a blur and Darcy felt her nerves on edge the entire time. It just seemed too simple and yet loaded with so many ways it could go wrong. Just what would happen to them if they were caught? John had no safety net to keep him alive and she doubted hers would hold more importance over punishing an escape attempt. She wanted to throw up, the feeling made only worse by knowing theyhadto act.
True to Lennox's observations, Ravage did not show up that night. The room was silent in sleep quickly. Despite the overwhelming exhaustion, Darcy's heart pounded in her ears as time ticked by and she pretended to sleep. A Decepticon passed a few hours in, glancing into the room before continuing on his way. They would not check again until they came to take them back to the mine. It was go time.
Choking back a few mouthfuls of musty water from the small pool in the corner, the three slowly made their way towards the door. No one around them stirred, too lost in the blissful oblivion of sleep to notice anything amiss. Darcy tried not to wonder how few might be left alive after the Decepticons' retribution. It was the only way, she reminded herself, they werealldead if they didn't do something. If all they could save was one, it would be worth it. Tightening her hold on the thin determination, she paused for only a moment once they reached the doorway as Lennox stuck his head out first, glancing both ways down the dim corridor before motioning them to follow. It was eerily quiet, only the soft hum of the lights gave any sound, the soft patter of their steps sounding like drums. Darcy swore the Decepticons would be able to hear her heart trying to pound its way out of her chest. But there seemed to be none around to hear a thing and they came upon the first split in the tunnel easily. Too easily. It put the detective on edge and she waited for one to step around the corner and crow in triumph about how they knew of the plan all along. None did, and the soldier took less than a minute to pick which direction to go, leading them down the tunnel that appeared to be sloped uphill.
"These fragging organics get their messeverywhere!It's revolting." The voice had them jumping through the closest opening into a hopefully empty room just as the red mech came around the bend. Knock Out, the psychotic medic, and he wasn't alone. As per usual, the giant blue bulk of Breakdown followed after him. "I say we should just get rid of the lot and be done with it."
The three humans held their breath as the two 'Cons passed, neither even glancing in their direction as Breakdown showed little sympathy for the sports car's issue. "You wouldn't get the mess everywhere if you didn't skewer them."
"They dared scratch my paint!" Knock Out waved a bloodied hand in his assistant's direction, "It's not like Iwantedto shish-kabob them, their armor is just so pathetically weak!"
"It's called skin," Breakdown shrugged.
The medic snorted as the two turned down another hall, his voice echoing back to them, "I don't care what the fleshbags call it, it's a mess and will takeforeverto clean. Ha! I'll make the other squishes clean it, a good lesson for the rest of them!"
Darcy released her breath once she was sure the two were long gone, amazed that they hadn't been discovered and feeling a stab of pity for whoever was going to have to clean the blood from those deadly claws. She turned to John, who slowly brought his finger to his lips and pointed behind her. She stiffened, slowly spinning to face the room they had taken refuge in. It was relatively dark, the little light reflecting off of gleaming black and white metal. Barricade. Sucking in a breath, she waited for the moment he would face them and shoot. He didn't so much as twitch. Darcy belatedly realized he wasn't going to. While there was the ever present hum of his systems, it was muted and his optics were dark. He was asleep, or whatever their equivalent of it was.
He'd slept through the talking 'Cons, but there was no telling how little it might take to wake him. As quietly as they could they crept out of the room and back into the hall, hurrying to the next split. It was a nerve-frying hour of wandering down different tunnels and praying they were going the right way before they finally reached a place that tasted of familiarity. It was a large cavern and after a moment, Darcy realized it was the place Starscream and Barricade had had their spat when she was first brought in. That meant they were close to the exit.
Now her heart pounded in excitement and adrenaline. They were almost free! Taking point as she recalled the last sways of the Mustang those weeks ago, she led them to the fork that slanted down. The pace picked up, exhaustion forgotten as escape finally seemed real. There! At the end of the tunnel, a tiny pinprick of yellow light beckoning them forward. This was it; they were going to get out!
A bone chilling chuckle echoed, bouncing off the walls and surrounding them. "And just where do you fleshbags think you're going?"
Dread froze the blood in her veins at the confirmation that it was over, they'd been caught. Freedom and hope so close she could taste the fresh air. So close and now impossibly far. It sounded like Starscream, but Darcy refused to look at him, to turn away from that little spot of growing daylight.
A flash of metal was her only warning before a clawed hand slammed against her ribs, shoving her into the two men and compressing them all together. Lifting them up, the hand turned them to face its owner. It was the jet, and he had a maniacal grin on his face. "The pets, how….fitting."
He turned away from the exit, closing them back in the darkness. Defeat brought the detective's head down, the adrenaline fading, replaced by a physical and emotional exhaustion that was too much even for tears. All she could muster was a bitten challenge that was half a plea. "If you're going to kill us then just get it over with."
Starscream cackled, jostling them as he brought her to eye level. "Kill you? No, I'm not going to kill you; pets are too valuable at the moment. I'm simply going to teach you alesson."
The mad laughter surrounded them from all sides and Darcy felt true terror slide down to her bones. What lesson would a mad alien come up with that wouldn't kill them?
The answer was worse than anything she could imagine.
He strolled to a room they'd never seen before that housed some twenty people. Slamming a large foot against the rocky floor, he jolted them all awake. "Get up, skinjobs!"
They obediently did so, falling into order and following behind him. Darcy had never seen these people before, but she soon recognized where they were heading: towards the mine.
If he had continued all the way to it, it would have been a mercy, but he didn't. Instead he turned into the room that had created so many tortured screams. "Shockwave, find a fitting use for these meat-sacks that will teachtheseones to obey!"
He dropped the three of them unceremoniously onto the table before the huge, one-eyed purple mech before turning and retreating from the room, pausing only long enough to shove the stragglers all the way into the room with a mad laugh and a threat from his gun. Shockwave, whose entire right arm with a giantcannon, regarded them with no emotion whatsoever as a metal door slammed shut. "Attempting escape is futile."
Turning to face the group of terrified victims huddled in the furthest corner, he easily plucked up three of them. Bringing them back to the table, he injected each with a black liquid and deposited them into what appeared to be giant beakers. "Record reaction time of energon contact."
His voice was like a computer, like a true A.I. as he addressed another alien Darcy had failed to notice until now. The smaller 'Con was too happy to comply.
"Oh I just love the screams!" he cackled, leaning towards them, a cube of bright blue clutched in his clawed hand. Energon, the liquified and purified fuel made from the crystals they'd been mining from below.
Without preamble, he dumped equal amounts of the fluid over the heads of the three women in the beakers. They screamed the moment it made contact. Clawing at their burning skin, they tried and failed to climb out of the waist-deep acid. Darcy turned away, clamping her hands over her ears as she tried to block out their wails, tried to ignore the smell of burning flesh, and desperately tried to wipe the image of their terror and pain from her mind. She failed on all accounts, tears slipping free.
"No, no, no, no! You must watch! This is the best part!" the grey and red giggled, jabbing the detective with a claw hard enough to rip the midsection of her shirt and spin her around.
She refused to open her eyes as the screams reached a new crescendo, making her want to scratch her own ears off as it pierced through her clamped hands. The unknown Decepticon clucked, the noise barely discernible. "'Screamer's orders, squishy, watch or more die!"
A part of her died when she forced her eyes open. They were unrecognizable. Hair and clothing were gone, skin peeling and being eaten away. Muscle and bone started to protrude where they continued to claw at themselves. One scream cut short as the body dropped fully into the acid, the bright blue now stained purple. The other two choked out soon after. Two minutes. Two horrendously long minutes and they were gone, leaving nothing behind but bone and chunks of floating meat.
The purple monster cocked his head just slightly. "New serum ineffective, human plating still intolerant."
"Try again, Shockwave, try again!" the grey urged, already reaching for another.
"Wild Rider, cease speaking. My calculations determine there is no level of dampener that will make them immune. Further synthesizing is required." The sheer lack ofanythingin the giant's voice made him that much more terrifying than the psychotic one. That he could feel absolutely nothing in the face of what he was doing put him on a level of dangerous that Darcy had never encountered before. They weren't human, she knew, but most of them at least displayed similar reactions and feelings, even if it was only similar to a serial killer. Not this one. He was a computer that thought only of what he was doing in terms of whatever science issue he was trying to resolve. Or create.
Wild Rider seemed thoroughly disappointed that the tortuous murders wouldn't continue. His dimming red optics didn't last long though, blasting bright after only a few seconds. "So back to the sampling then?"
Shockwave didn't spare him a glance from his single optic. "Obviously."
The sheer glee that radiated from the grey and red 'Con served to evaporate whatever hope Darcy had left for those remaining people. Whatever was coming was sure to be as monstrous as the acid, and it was her fault. If she had just listened to her gut, gone with what her subconscious was telling her and stayed put, then none of this would have happened. These people, these helpless victims she had sworn to protect wouldn't be dying at the hands of thesethings. She was a fool to think they could escape, that they could stand a chance of outsmarting aliens that weremillionsof years old, now humans were paying for her mistake. Paying with just their lives would have been a mercy, but they were forced to pay in terror and agony that ravaged them until death finally claimed them.
Wild Rider bound to the group, plucking up five and depositing them into a clear tray. Darcy cringed, gripping onto John's arm as a few cried out following the tell-tale crack of breaking bones. Shockwave moved to the other side of the room, returning with five nasty looking syringes filled with a dark grey substance. The detective blinked several times, sure that her eyes were playing tricks on her. Whatever was inside those syringes appeared to bemoving. Like a liquid with a mind of its own, the matter swirled in a random pattern that did not match the movement from the alien.
Darcy tried to turn away when the purple beast turned with a needle to the first victim, but Wild Rider was there in an instant,tut-tut-ing and shoving her closer. Her grip on John only tightened and the second the mech had backed off, Lennox was on her other side.
The first, a middle aged man, groaned when the needle was shoved into his arm, but he did not scream. Once the injection was complete he simply lay still, blinking up at the rocky ceiling. Shockwave paused, staring for a long moment before turning to the rest. The remaining four went the same and the scientist took as step back as he watched his test subjects and a some sort of computer screen off to the side spitting out writing in some indecipherable language.
Then the first convulsed and scratched at his arm. He scratched harder, moving from the injection site up his arm, to the other arm, then a leg, his movements becoming more violent and panicked with every second until his scratches were leaving gouges in his own skin.
"Get it out! Get it out!" he shrieked, lurching to his feet only to stumble and fall back down. Struggling, he tried to get his legs under him, but they wouldn't cooperate. Then he screamed. Like a dying animal he yowled as blood leaked from his eyes. His skin boiled and moved as if an infestation of insects lay under it, crawling and skittering about, looking for some way out. Blood dripped from an increasing number of places and new cuts along his body, sliding across the outside of his skin just as it appeared to be doing on the inside. Darcy gagged, the lump in her throat as suffocating as it was nauseating. Whatever had been injected into the manwasalive in some way and it was clawing its way out.
A sickening crack echoed in Darcy's mind as the man's back bent unnaturally, limbs flailing as if he'd lost control of his own body. Blood burst from every pore and he went limp and quiet. Panicking terror was on the faces of the other four, but it was too late for them, too late to help them. The second to be injected twitched and scratched at her arm, and the horror started again.
By the time the last dropped into a pile of his own moving blood, Wild Rider was giggling. "That's a new one! Round two!"
Shockwave cut him off from the rest of the people by bashing him with his cannon arm, sending the mad mech crashing into the far wall. "You are useless, leave."
The unspoken 'or I'll find a use for you' hung in the air for even the humans to hear and the brief flash of fear that flittered over the smaller alien's face was enough to say the Decepticon would make good on that threat. Wild Rider wasted no time, huffing to compose himself, he walked out of the lab, throwing over his shoulder as he went, "Fine, you're no fun anyway."
Once he was gone, the scientist turned back to the shredded remains of his experiment. Whether he was talking to himself or the computers, Darcy wasn't sure. The way the monitor's responded, they appeared almost one in the same. "Nanobot size still too large for human adaptment; bots unaccepting of aqueous environment. Still seeks escape from organic cells."
Cocking his head, he regarded the remaining twelve. "Need more brain tissue for testing."
"Please, don't kill us!" one of the women pleadingly shrieked as he swept up half of the group.
Shockwave latched each down onto human-sized slabs, sliding the one with the woman who had spoke under what appeared to be a giant microscope. "Brain activity and responses require live subjects."
Any sort of relief that admission granted was quickly destroyed as a thick needle protruded from the bottom of the scope, perfectly aligned with the woman's forehead. Without the psychotic mech around to monitor, Darcy spun away the second the pointed tip hit skin.
"Oooh, that's got to hurt," Knock Out whistled as he strolled in.
"What do you want?" Shockwave didn't look away from his study subject and the monotone made it sound less like a question than an acknowledgement of the annoyance of the red medic's presence.
Knock Out was unruffled by the response. Instead he studied his fingers, frowning at the red that still painted the sharp tips. "What Iwantis to finish getting this organic filth off, but that's not why I'm here. Starscream wants the pets back. Ah! There you squishies are!"
He didn't wait for a reply, simply plucked the three humans up, a clawed digit digging harshly into Darcy's side. "Oh! He also wanted me to pass along a message: we're resetting, in a manner. The fleshbags in section D are yours to play with."
With that, he strut out, leaving the handful of doomed people and a now untold number of others to share in their wretched fate behind him.
Darcy bit her lip as the claw supporting her threatened to slit into the flesh it was pressed against. She could feel her bones shifting, cracking at the abuse, but she would not cry out. As the scream of the next helpless victim echoed down the hall in their wake, she refused to make a sound. Her pain was nothing compared to theirs.
Despite her best efforts, a groan slipped out as the claw shifted between her ribs and sunk into the skin. He jostled them, intentionally no doubt, adding pressure to his grip. Glancing up, she could see the smirk on his face. These things truly were remorseless, they felt nothing but satisfaction at the pain and fear they were causing.
"As you requested, my liege." He gave a sweeping mock bow once he stood before Starscream, dropping them in a heap at the jet's feet.
"Learn your lesson yet, meatbags?" the grey beast sneered. Darcy nodded, not trusting herself to speak between her gasping breaths, hand clamped to her bleeding side. The two men repeated the action, neither able to form words in the face of what they had been forced to witness.
Starscream chuckled. "No, you've learned not to get caught. You haven't learned never to attempt it again. You humans are a tenacious lot, but I have learned how to break you."
Motioning to someone behind them, the detective turned to see Breakdown lumbering into the room, leading the convoy of people they had left behind just hours ago. They were all exhausted and terrified, but those expressions soon turned to distrust and anger the second they noticed the three. Darcy couldn't meet their eyes and struggled around a lump in her throat. Whatever happened to them was her fault and they all knew it. The jet motioned to the small crowd. "I'm going to set you all free."
A murmur swept through and Darcy felt her head spin at this random turn of events. There had to be a catch. Strangely, Starscream waited for the murmur to die down before addressing them again, a wicked grin spreading across his metal face. "Make it to the bottom of the mountain by dawn and you're free from us for the rest of your pathetic lives."
He paused, allowing the whispers to spring up again. It wasn't hard to read between the lines. By dawn meant that he wouldn't be releasing them until nightfall, if it wasn't well into night already. The detective looked up and noticed the glint to his red eyes that said such an endeavor would be no simple task of hiking down. "Fail to breach the base by first light and your life is mine."
Flicking his wrist in dismissal, he let the blue mech file the humans out before turning back to the three still before him. He swept his arm out as he leaned back into his throne, "You're welcome to join them tonight, I swear none of my soldiers will harm you."
Warning bells tried to sound off that it wasn't right, but Darcy was finding it hard to gain her bearings after such a shock. Her gut rolled, was there something she was missing? It seemed like it yet she couldn't put her finger on it.
He dismissed them then and they followed Ravage back towards their prison. Darcy wondered when it got so unbearably muggy and hot and how she was the only one sweating. She winced as the salt burned the cut from the medic. They were halfway back when the tunnel tilted and spun out from under her feet. She hit the wall, Lennox catching her other side and she struggled to muddle through what had happened. Neither of the men had lost their balance.
"You don't look so good," Lennox intoned with quiet concern.
She waved him off, wishing the corridor would stop bloody moving.
"I'm fine, just tired," she slurred and forced herself forward. Miscalculating the step, she tripped and stumbled into the soldier. John was at her other side in an instant, placing a freezing hand on her forehead.
"She's burning up," he said over her head. Why wasn't he talkingtoher? Of course she was burning though, it was roasting in here! He should be too, she frowned, why was he so cold? There had to be something wrong. A spike of fear shot through her, he wasn't sick, was he? Getting sick in this place would be a guaranteed death sentence. Lennox mumbled something back but it was too muffled for her to make out. Why was he slurring now? Was he sick too? His hand was impossibly cold against her side where he supported her. Or was she supporting him? How could they possibly make it down the mountain at night if both men were sick? The tunnel tilted strangely again and she groaned as pressure was put on her wounded side.
"Hold on, Darcy," Lennox ordered in her ear, his voice breaking through the haze and it took her a moment to realize he was now carrying her. Oh. Shewas the one who was sick. That wasn't good. They wouldn't be able to take her; she'd only hold them back.
They made it back to their temporary prison, the cat taking up his post at the door once they were through. When they reached their mats and the Major set her down, Darcy used all her will to force her hand up and grabbed onto his vest. "Go tonight. Leave me. You need to get out, warn the others. I'll only slow you down."
She knew she was rambling, that most of the garble that left her mouth probably didn't make sense, but she had to get her message across, make them understand that they had to leave her. She was getting worse too fast to be able to get herself down the mountain. They had to go without her. Her life was not worth both of theirs.
"We're not going anywhere," the soldier swore. John glanced at him and he raised his voice so everyone could hear, the cat at the door made no move to stop the chatter this time. "No one should go tonight. It's a trick. Whoever leaves will die."
"You don't know that!" one of the other men shouted. "If we make it to the bottom, they'll let us go. He told us so."
"And risk you telling someone about this place and them?" Lennox stood to face the group, hoping they might understand. "Think about it. They've stayed hidden this long, they aren't about to just give it up. I've fought these things, I know them. Their word means nothing."
"He's only guessing," the same man sneered, "I say it's worth the risk. We're all dead staying here anyway. These things can't track all of us! There's a chance some might make it."
The Major seethed, "Anyone who walks out will be dead long before dawn, you can count on that. Our best chance is to make a get awaywithoutthem knowing about it."
His opponent crossed his arms, leveling the three with a disgusted glare. "Because that worked so well for you three. Let's not forget they abandoned us, made a run for themselves."
"We could actually get help!" John jumped in, standing next to the soldier in support. The rest of the crowd stood opposite, behind their volunteer spokesman.
The stranger snorted, addressing his followers rather than the two men. "That's what they say since they were caught. Rest assured, if they had made it out we would have never heard from them again. They only don't want us to go now that their girl is down and can't make the run herself. I'm going tonight, the rest of you can make the obvious decision."
It was a unanimous and instantaneous choice, made clear when no one made a move to come out from behind him. There was nothing Lennox or John could say to sway them. The entire room was going and Darcy wasn't sure any of them would be alive by morning.
"He's right," she whispered, her voice ragged. "You have to try, get out, get word to our friends."
Lennox shook his head, "There is no chance."
"The badge," John cut in as quietly as he could.
Darcy frowned, what about her badge? She patted her neck where she always kept it. It wasn't there. Where did that go? The soldier shook his head, silently motioning something to the older man, who turned and placed a cool hand on her shoulder. "He's right, Darce. We aren't going anywhere and I'd never leave you behind."
She stared at the ceiling as it drifted in and out of focus, wondering if there was any way she might convince them otherwise. Her mind was too muddled to think of one. Throat burning, she coughed once, twice. When had it dried out and set itself aflame? Their supply of water still dripped in the corner, but try as she might, she was too damn tired and weak to move. Where had all her strength gone? Moaning, she could only hope one of the men might hear her as she forced her throat to rumble, "Water".
John noticed and took only a moment to scavenge up a 'cup' and bring it to her. She reached for it, bringing it to her lips only to have Lennox reach over and tear it from her gasp.
"The water!" He studied the color, the gritty contents, and the smell before nodding to himself. "It's the water making her sick."
It didn't take a genius to figure out that the liquid dripping into the pool wasn't treated, but John frowned. "Then why isn't everyone sick? We all drank it. I have for longer."
The soldier shrugged. "Her injuries have probably made her more susceptible. Others have gotten sick, they were just taken away before the symptoms onset this much. It's either the water or the food, probably both since neither are in a condition we should be taking.
"What do we need for her?" John rested a hand on his ex-partner's forehead, swearing that she was getting hotter by the minute.
Lennox sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Nothing we have here. She needs a hospital and if she doesn't get to one soon…"
He trailed off, neither man wanting to finish that particular thought. John frowned, shifting in place as he glanced towards the others that had yet to come close to them. "Then we don't have a choice, we have to try for tonight."
He was met with a shaking head.
"No," Lennox paused, placing a hand over one of his pockets, "but I have an idea."
Some hours later that Darcy couldn't totally recall, she found herself strung between the two men as all of the humans from their cell stood before Starscream. The three were off to the side, away from those attempting the run as the jet reminded them of the rules and gave the first direction. "Following this tunnel will lead you outside."
He motioned down the very tunnel he'd caught them in earlier, the pin prick of light at the end dim and fading. Lennox passed the detective off to the other man, slipping away towards the unofficial leader of the other group. He offered his hand, and once accepted, patted the other man's back. "Good luck."
Then he returned to his place and together the three watched as Starscream gestured for the people to go. "Your time starts now."
They wasted none of it, bolting down the passageway, their footsteps bouncing off of the rock and echoing behind them. Starscream turned to them several minutes after the group had made it out of the tunnel's end. "Not joining them, hmm?"
Darcy was dimly aware of what he was saying and wanted to tell him where to shove that question, but her mouth refused to cooperate. Probably better it didn't. Lennox, instead, was the one who spoke up. "You're not just going to let us all go."
A wicked grin nearly slit his face in half, clearly stating the soldier had been right all along. "Indeed, I am not."
He turned to walk away and it was then the detective finally forced her lips to move and her voice scratched its way out. "But you swore."
She didn't know how it was possible, but the crazed smile got wider as he paused to look back at her. "Oh I swore thatyouwouldn't be hurt, fleshbags,you'restill valuable to me.Theyare not."
With that he walked out and some unheard signal was given to send Ravage and Wild Rider taking off for the exit, guns charging. Lennox grimaced, wishing for once that he had been wrong. But his prediction would come true, no one was going to make it to dawn alive. All he could hope was that one human got far enough.
Soon muted screams and gunfire filled the air. The three turned away, back towards a now painfully empty chamber.
Dave had a lot of regrets in his life, like that fight with his father over ten years ago, or the girl he should have fought harder for, or selling that Corvette, but they all paled in comparison to his regret about his most recent decision.
He should have listened to the soldier.
Instead he had blindly led almost forty people to their deaths as they stumbled around in the dark, trying in vain to escape the two psychotic things that were gunning them down. The humanoid one had thankfully gone a different direction, the mad cackling echoing through the night back to him. He'd caught a glimpse of the one-eyed cat only once, but the thing was far too quiet to ever know where it was.
A single snap of a twig and a shift in the air was the only warning he got before a massive weight hit him from behind. The force snapped his lower spine immediately as sharp metal claws dug and scraped their way down his back. He hit the ground, pain overwhelming every other sense he possessed. It was all he could feel, all he could focus on, pain and a single glowing red eye floating around and in front of him. A crack and a flash and he knew nothing more.
Ravage dispatched the pathetic, broken human with a single shot to the head, sparing it not a single extra thought as he trotted off to find the next one. Really, it was disappointingly easy; the organics made so muchnoisehe didn't even need his optic to find them. Hmm, now that could be a better game. Shutting off the optic, he used only his other senses to continue his hunt.
It was still boringly easy.
As the alien predator dashed through the trees, he never gave another thought to Dave, nor the jacket he'd worn, or the shiny, golden badge that had fallen out of the pocket.
Chapter 15: Fractured Sight
Chapter Text
Fairy tales do not tell children that dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children that dragons can be killed. ~G.K. Chesterton
Prowl was aware the very nanosecond the tracker broadcasted, cutting himself off mid-speech as he traced the origin of the signal.
"Prowler?" Jazz brought his attention back to the room filled with officers who were all staring at him with mixed levels of curiosity. Once Major Lennox had been taken captive, Diego Garcia had all but emptied and the majority of Autobot forces had regrouped at an abandoned airport. NEST had supplied a few squads, but both sides agreed that the bulk of the assault should be done by the Autobots.
"The tracker placed on Detective Blake's badge has gone active," he replied, sending the frequency of the broadcast to each 'bot present.
"About fragging time!" Ironhide lurched up, guns itching for a fight. The black mech had been coming closer and closer to ripping the tactician's head off with every day that passed without a sign from his charge. The 'Cons wouldn't have killed him yet, but Ironhide didn't like the Major being in their clutches any less because of it. Now, now he had something other than the twins to vent his frustrations on, and he was going to enjoy every second of it.
"Primus Peak? 'Cons are getting a twisted sense of humor," Ratchet huffed. It was true, the mountain range that cut through the state of Washington had many peaks to choose from and yet their enemy had made their base on the one named for their creator.
"If they're on a mountain, why haven't we heard reports of sightings? Surely the humans have hiked the area enough to have spotted them?" Wheeljack asked, glancing up from the explosive device he'd been tinkering with.
"Most likely they are underground; as the area is surrounded by volcanic activity, the tremors of drilling would pass unnoticed," Prowl stated, cocking his head as he dug through the collection of police records he had assembled with the detective. "There is also a higher rate of missing hikers on that and surrounding mountains. They have been doing the same they did with their disposal site, taking anyone who got too close. Any sightings that may have occurred were dealt with before word could get out."
Optimus vented as he looked around at the assembled bots. "As much as we all wish to charge in and rescue the humans, the presence of an unknown tunnel network puts the possibility of a trap too high. We need a map of these caverns, so that we may efficiently clear them and dispose of them."
Wheeljack all but threw his project into his subspace, "Are you saying we're gonna blow them?"
Prime cast a sidelong glance at Prowl and noted the silent agreement there. "We cannot leave them with a functioning base. As soon as we clear the humans, we bury it."
It wasn't an order the commander gave lightly, for it condemned every Decepticon still in the caves when it blew. But this war had gone on for too long and Starscream had made it abundantly clear he wasn't going to stop the fighting. There were a few on the enemy's side Optimus still hoped to reach with peace, but others he knew were too far gone.
"And just how are you planning on getting a map? I don't think the Decepticons are going to just hand one over if you ask nicely," Ratchet pointed out, casting a heavy glare towards the inventor as he pulled out a different object to tinker with.
Jazz was up in an instant. "The 'Cons still think 'm dead. If they spot meh, they'll jus' think they're seein' things."
Optimus nodded. "Take Mirage with you. Warn the humans if you can that we are coming. Major Lennox will know what to do."
"So, when does the hammer come down?" Wheeljack asked, patting his finished product fondly.
The red and blue leader turned to Prowl, wondering if the tactician had any input at this point. The Charger glanced around, "An hour after sunset they will expect us least."
Prime nodded and his voice reached out to every 'bot on the makeshift base, "Autobots, prepare to roll out."
"Youglitched fool!I told you to give him allbutsection D!"
"Now I could have sworn youspecifiedto give him that one."
Starscream turned on the red medic, raking his claws across the sports car's front before he could dodge the strike. "That was our leverage!"
"Hey! Not the finish!" Knock Out growled, hovering his hands protectively over his scratched chassis. "He hasn't gone through all of them yet."
The Air Commander snarled, flexing his clawed digits and making the smaller mech flinch back. "Then go get them! Put them with the pets andkeep them alive."
Knock Out gave a sweeping mock bow, grumbling as he walked out of the room. "Breakdown! Get my buffer!"
Starscream turned towards his silent trine-mate, noting and dismissing the slight frown crossing his features. "Thundercracker, what are our energon levels?"
The blue jet met him optic-to-optic. "We've barely made half of what we need. The humans can't harvest enough to keep up with what Shockwave is using."
The self-proclaimed Lord of the Decepticons huffed. "Pathetic species. We'll need more if they're going to finish processing the deposit in time."
"Ooooooh, does this mean I can go catch more?" Skywarp appeared between the two mechs, grin spread wide in innocent excitement.
"Don't bridge with them this time!" Starscream growled, pausing a moment before he recanted, "No, Soundwave says Stage Two has begun; get into position."
The purple jet gave a snappy salute before disappearing with another loud 'pop'.
The events of the day were too much for either of the men to sleep and even Darcy struggled to find any rest as renewed screams echoed from Shockwave's lab as he received another batch of humans they hadn't known existed. Just how many people were still down there with them? Twenty, fifty, a hundred? Their cries reverberated throughout the night, but the gunfire died quickly. Ravage returned to his post, his frame covered in gore. The three tried to ignore it, but Darcy lost the battle and rolled over to lose the few remains of her stomach. The cat smirked.
As the time crept by and Darcy faded in and out of sleep, she knew she was getting worse. Soon it wouldn't matter how much John told her to hold on, she could barely control her body anymore. She shuddered, somehow freezing and burning at the same time. Her throat dry and coarse like sandpaper, but Lennox refused to let her have any more of the water, promising only that she'd be okay soon.
She didn't know what he could mean by that, but he was getting antsier with every hour that passed. Eventually he was pacing, back and forth and back and forth. It was making Darcy woozier than she already was. John tried to ask what was eating him, but the soldier just waved him off and kept going.
Eventually-it had to be passed dawn-Barricade wandered by and ushered some fifteen people in. Even in her dazed state, Darcy recognized some of them from the reports. So did Lennox.
"Ivan?" he asked, approaching one of the younger men. He was as roughed up as the rest of them, but alive.
"Major?" Lennox looked around, taking stock of just who had joined them.
"You were right, Darcy." he sighed.
The detective offered a noncommittal grunt.
"Right about what?" John asked as the man identified as Ivan stepped towards them.
Darcy fought to sit up, her head spinning as she did so.
"They were targeting NEST families. But why haven't they used them as leverage yet?" He directed the question to the group facing them. It wasn't a question they necessarily wanted an answer to. If they hadn't revealed their captives for the raids they'd already done, then the 'Cons were saving them for something much bigger; something that would be much worse if the Autobots couldn't stop them.
John noticed the confused glances on the faces of those around them. "They don't know, do they?"
Lennox shook his head, but didn't elaborate or bother to explain. He looked towards the empty doorway, frowning. Sighing, he turned away, but didn't start up pacing again.
"It doesn't look good, Prime,"Mirage winced and it was felt even through the comms. That certainly got everyone's attention. It wasn't often that the former noble was ruffled by anything, especially humans. "I have only found eighteen humans still functioning, but there is evidence that many more were here recently."
"How recent?"Prime rumbled, worried that somehow, the Decepticons had known they were coming.
It was Jazz who came over the line, voice filled with barely contained rage and disgust. "The mountain side is littered with bodies, Prime. Breakdown is out cleaning it up but the massacre is obvious. They slaughtered 'em last night."
Optimus vented heavily, wanting nothing more than to charge in guns blazing at that moment. But no, they were too many miles away to come in unnoticed and they would be flying blind. They had to wait, come up with a plan, and pray those few remaining could hold on a bit longer.
"How is Lennox?"Ironhide gruffed, his guns yet to stop shifting.
"The Major appears well enough. But Prowl,"Mirage paused, hesitating, "your detective is not doing well. She appears to have contracted some sort of virus."
Ratchet hummed to himself from his place beside the tactician. He wasn't surprised someone had gotten ill; he'd seen the autopsy reports of what the 'Cons had been giving them to survive on, it was deplorable. The medic gave a sidelong look to the SIC. He may not have taken guardianship over the woman, but she had been under his watch when Barricade of all mechs had taken her. That would no doubt rile him.
Prowl, for his part, barely twitched his doorwings, but it was enough for those that knew him. "How dire?"
Mirage delayed replying. He didn't have the in-depth knowledge of humans that most of the others did and he dared not use his scanners in the middle of Con territory. Even to the untrained optic, though, he could guess the condition the woman was in. "I give her no more than a week in these conditions, maybe less."
The tactician's doors twitched again and the medic knew he was right. "Can you warn them now?"
"Negative. Ravage is standing guard."
"Thank you, Mirage, finish scoping the tunnels as quickly as possible."Optimus worked through the possible variables of the coming raid. They knew of some Decepticons that would undoubtedly be there, but he wasn't naïve enough to believe they knew of all of them, even with two 'bots scouting the base.
"Copy tha', Prime, we'll be back soon,"Jazz responded. The coldness hadn't left his voice and it was promising swift retribution on those responsible for all he had seen.
Some hours later, the sleek forms of the two spies slid into view. Prowl was pacing again, back and forth as he plotted his way through the rough maps the two had sent him. The energon storage room would be needed spoils, but there would be no time to raid the supply. Instead it would be a sweet spot for the bombs, and no doubt Shockwave's lab would be filled with sensitive and explosive materials. So few humans would be easier to get out unnoticed, but they may be guarded. His plan would account for all of it.
As per usual, of course, a hiccup had him recalculating all of it as he alerted Optimus, "Skywarp just started attacking a power plant sixty miles south of here."
Optimus looked over his gathered forces. They couldn't respond fully if they were to be prepared for the coming raid that took precedence. He couldn't spare many, but if he chose strategically who to send after the spastic seeker, then it might trick the 'Cons into believing a larger force was on the way. Speed would be of the essence then, so that when they arrived it would appear that they simply outpaced the others. "Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, do as little damage to the human structure as possible."
The twins shared identical smirks before dropping into their fancy alt modes and peeling off, skid marks quickly the only sign of their departure. Ratchet huffed in their direction. "If they try jet judo one more time, I'm reformatting them into toasters."
The sky began to darker, signally that the time was fast approaching. Optimus turned to his remaining troops. "Jazz, Mirage, you know what to do."
Mirage nodded while Jazz gave a salute and soon the group was watching their taillights disappear as well. The commander rolled his own guns forward to charge. "Autobots, let's get it done."
Darcy groaned as another wave of nausea rolled over her, forcing her to attempt to spit up nothing. Every heave burned her dry throat. The dark room refused to focus properly and she only recognized that it was John hovering over her by his voice; not that she could tell what it was that he was saying. She was just sothirstyand sotired. Maybe if she closed her eyes for just a few seconds, things would stop spinning and settle down. It was worth a try at least.
If only John would let her.
"Damn it, Darcy, stay awake," he snapped, smacking her cheek. His words were muddled and she barely felt his tap.
He turned to the soldier as her eyes refused to focus on him. "We can't wait forever. Tainted or not, she needs water. She's lost too much."
His hands came back damp no matter where he put them. She was sweating out every ounce of fluid she had. If she didn't replenish it soon, it'd be too late for her to recover from whatever was afflicting her.
Lennox sighed, running his hands through his hair, casting a glance to the empty doorway, he whispered, "Just a few more hours. If we haven't heard anything by then, then let her drink."
John didn't like it, he figured she'd have her best chance staying hydrated regardless of the quality of the water, but if helpwasincoming, then he didn't know if it would truly do more good than harm.
It was impossible to accurately measure time in this place, but the retired cop couldn't wait any longer. Filling up the makeshift cup, he was nearly to her when a monstrous boom shook the cavern.
Darcy jolted at the sound, bleary-eyed and confused. The others were panicking. Only Lennox appeared unconcerned and with a few barked orders, he had the rest quieting down and gathering together in orderly fashion.
"What's going on?" she mumbled as John and another man hauled her to her feet. The world disappeared into a black haze for a long moment as she tried to fight off the oncoming unconsciousness.
She made out the small grin the Major sent her way and noted it looked really out of place given their surroundings. "The cavalry has arrived."
It took her a long time to comprehend what he was getting at, the meaning digging through the fog of her mind. The Autobots had found them.
There was a shift in the room, almost imperceptible, but Darcy was just out of it enough to actually notice. She frowned at the empty air that seemed to shimmer before her eyes. Everyone else noticed when a large red mech justappearedin the middle of the room. The detective jolted away from him, but the two keeping her standing kept her firmly planted.
"Mirage!" Lennox greeted and Darcy squinted, dimly making out the bright blue optics. Autobot?
"We must move quickly," he ordered, moving to stand halfway into the hall. The cavern shook again followed by the echo of shouting and gunfire.
The red bot vanished without warning. A few seconds later Barricade thundered past. He didn't even glance in their direction. Mirage reappeared exactly where he had been before once the Decepticon was gone. "Come and stay quiet."
He handed what looked like a large gun to Lennox before walking out, the rest filing out after him. John and the stranger hauled Darcy forward. She tried to walk on her own, but could only stumble and struggle to keep her feet under her.
"Who's here?" Lennox asked as he took point at the head of the human column.
Mirage paused to attach some box on a support wall as he answered, "Everyone."
A silver mech spun around the corner and Darcy tensed at the coming brawl. Only it never came. The Major greeted this one as well. "Jazz!"
The new bot nodded at him before turning to his fellow alien, looking grimly pleased. "Place is ready to blow."
"You checked all the tunnels?" Lennox asked as they continued forward.
The silver shook his head. "Not the time, but when this beast goes, every fragger still here will be buried."
John adjusted his grip. "What about the other people? There are others still here!"
The two aliens shared a grim look before the red one answered. "There are no others, you are what is left. Now let's go before that changes."
They faced no resistance on the way out and as they turned down foreign tunnels, Darcy's head lulled and she found herself looking at the ceiling. Strangely, it wasn't very smooth or tall, small bits of rock actively dropping from it. It was also scorched.Huh, they made a door.
Bridging the gap into the outside was stepping into a different world.
Light flashed out in the darkness like a strobe, illuminating the fighting aliens that covered the mountain side. Their colors were muted by the glow of gunfire, but their optics stood out sharply.
The cold slapped against her like a brick wall. Despite the burn of it in her lungs, the fresh air after so long was heavenly. The two bots left to join the fight, quickly replaced by a military squad of humans who flanked them. Darcy was never so happy to see them in her life.
She was passed off to two of them who scaled the packed snow with her weight with ease. Before she knew it, they were behind the Autobot line and approaching a small fleet of Humvees waiting for them. Lennox barked an order while gesturing to the detective before moving out of her line of sight.
Despite the rush of all that was happening around her, darkness teased Darcy's vision and her head swam with the effort of processing what she was seeing. She was on a stretcher with no memory of being laid down, the dark sky replaced by the inside of a medical van. Medics were talking to her, flashing lights in her eyes, but it was like she'd been put underwater. She couldn't make out what they were saying or doing, couldn't make her body respond to any command. She only knew it was too bright, the light hurt, and all she wanted was to sleep.
Jostling told her they were moving, or maybe the car was being rocked by explosions. Fading in and out, her irritation grew with every shake the medics gave her, with every question she didn't understand. She was too tired to move her eyes, to try looking at them. They stayed fixed on that dark window, seeing nothing.
The darkness lit up in a great ball of red, orange, and blue, and then even the medics couldn't keep her awake after that.
She was aware of warmth first. Not in any particular location, just an overall comfortable warmth that permeated her entire being. The parched dryness of her throat made itself known next, annoying but not painfully unpleasant. Above all, she felt rested. Like she'd slept for a week and was ready for a double shift. It was almost too perfect a feeling to open her eyes and risk breaking the spell.
There was no pain.
Stilling, she tried to focus on each part of her body, to find where those pains could be hiding. Nothing. Just peaceful numbness in the places that should have been hurting and everywhere else wasalive.
She started with minimal movements, testing what would respond and what might not. Her shoulder was wrapped tight, immobile, and IV's tugged at her arm, but that was it. She was free.
Opening her eyes was a less pleasant experience as the light pierced and burned the second it made contact. Groaning, she snapped them closed again, the sound coming out far more pitifully than she expected as it scraped its way out.
"Ratchet, she's awake!" a disembodied voice hollered out and the sound ricocheted around her head.
"Give me a moment, it wouldn't do to have her first vision be of me," another bodiless voice answered from further away. Wherever she was fell silent for a moment before the first voice came again.
"Ms. Blake? Can you try opening your eyes again?" A cool hand rested on her arm and she jolted at the contact. It was promptly removed.
Prepared for the burn this time, she opened her eyes slower, tilting her head to the side to avoid the direct glare. Even without the overhead lights blurring her vision, the sight before her was hazy and took an obscene amount of time to start straightening out.
When her eyes did finally sort themselves, she was greeted by the sight of a military nurse giving her a gentle smile, the doctor entering in behind him. The doctor didn't pay much attention to her at first, instead he shooed the nurse away and pulled out a tablet to start typing away on. She appreciated the chance to gather the rest of her bearings and take in where she was.
It looked like what she figured a typical military medical wing might look like. Curtains cut off her view of other beds and despite the bright lighting, the room itself was dimmed by dark concrete walls. This wasn't any mobile hospital, this was one at a base, though where that base was there was no way to tell.
There was not much else to see, the IV line was attached to a bag with medical jargon that Darcy had been in enough hospitals to know simply meant fluids and supplements. The only other thing worth noting was the doctor himself, now that the nurse was gone. A soft face pitched down into a partial frown with a short mop of light brown hair streaked with grey. All in all, a welcoming but nearly stereotypical look for a doctor. A very familiar looking one at that.
She'd seen that face before. Where had she seen that face before? She wassureshe knew it, yet was equally sure she didn't personally know the man. Was he famous?
That was it. The man before her could have been an older doppelganger for Dr. Wilson from that medical show she'd watched a handful of times. House or something like that. She stifled another groan, what was with these people and looking like celebrities?
She stiffened as Lennox's brief explanation of holograms and the like came back to her. They couldn't just create a face, they had to take a known and only then could they make some changes to their preference. A celebrity face was an alien face.
The 'doctor' frowned, glancing up from his tablet as the beeping of the heart monitor spiked. "Detective, I need you to stay calm; you're in a safe place."
Darcy didn't care what he said, she was prone beneath another alien with chemicals dripping into her bloodstream and who-knew-what-else he had done while she was unconscious. Adrenaline shot through her, giving her the strength to bolt up and claw at the IV. The doctor reached for her and pure instinct reacted. She shrieked, throwing the IV tubes toward him and scrambling away, right off the other side of the bed.
"Stay away from me!" she shouted as she crashed to the floor and continued dragging herself away when he moved to come around the bed. Her muscles were weaker than she thought, her legs refused to hold her up. She was left in a sad heap on the ground, helpless and trapped.
In a desperate attempt to put more distance between her and the fake doctor, she pulled herself through the curtain separating the beds and right into a pair of legs. "Darcy?"
"John!" She could have sobbed in relief at finding him, half-standing from his own bed. He dropped to her level in an instant.
"What the devil is going on?" he asked, looking her over in concern.
She caught sight of the IV in his own arm and went for it. "We have to get out of here! The aliens! They're here, pretending to be doctors!"
He pulled his arm out of her reach, using the other to tug her toward him until she was shaking against his chest. "Darcy! It's okay! It's the Autobots, they saved us, saved you. We're at their base, we're safe. You're safe."
Rubbing her back, he urged the panic down, tried to anchor her to this new reality.
"And I am very much a real doctor, thank you," the holoform grouched from the end of the curtain, crossing his arms. Darcy burrowed deeper into John's chest in a vain attempt at hiding herself.
John tugged her back a bit so she could meet his gaze. "Darcy, this is Ratchet, he's the Chief Medical Officer for the Autobots. He saved your life."
She chanced a glance at him. He didn'tlookoverly threatening, a bit annoyed yes, but otherwise not immediately intimidating. For his part, Ratchet didn't move an inch, simply watched and waited.
John looked over at him when Darcy made no move to speak. "Can you give us a moment?"
The medic nodded and left. Both man and mech knew it was going to take many long moments before the detective could get herself right again.
Chapter 16: Fractured Mind
Chapter Text
The greater the power, the more dangerous the abuse. ~Edmond Burke
Ratchet let them be and Darcy soon found herself helped back into bed, the previous notion of energy all but gone. John reclined next to her and every few minutes she'd glance over and shift so that her bandaged arm would brush against him. It reminded her, grounded her to the reality that he was there, he was alive, they had made it out. At least one of her goals had been accomplished, even if she wasn't the reason for it. She sighed for the umpteenth time, wondering, among other things, what was going to happen when she went back home. She was under no delusions, the case was as closed as it was ever going to get; she was done. There was no job waiting for her return. Law enforcement was her life, but there was no way the chief would take her back, which meant applying to the neighboring jurisdictions. It wasn't ideal, given the distance of the other departments, but she would deal with the commute if it meant she could carry a badge. All she could hope for was that the chief hadn't turned her name to mud.
Turning to her mentor, she pondered what he would do upon their release. Would he continue his retirement in that same house or would he move? She wouldn't blame him if he didn't want to stay in that town, but she selfishly wished he wouldn't leave.
"Darcy," his voice broke through her thoughts and his tone suggested it wasn't his first attempt at capturing her attention. She hummed in response and felt him tense, alerting her that she wouldn't like what he had to say. "Ratchet needs to check you over and make sure you're healing alright."
She stiffened, brain stalling for a long moment before sputtering back to life. "Can't I just go to the doctors at a hospital?"
It was unspoken that if the base had a human doctor, she'd prefer him as well. John sighed, "And how will you explain your injuries? Or your experience? Ratchet saved you, you can trust him."
Darcy frowned, pulling away. "How canyoutrust them so much? You were with the Decepticons longer than I was."
"I've also been awake the last three days that you've been out and I've talked with them, including your 'Agent Row'. I can't say I like them just yet, but they risked a lot to save us when they could have just blown the tunnels without coming in after us. They aren't going to hurt us."
She scowled when he mentioned the faux-agent, the false human, the lying bastard that was the reason for all of this, and she wasn't happy John had talked to him. The older man ran a hand over his tired face, "Just let the CMO look you over, then we can debrief and go home."
Swallowing hard, she struggled to fight against the unsettling feeling at the notion of allowing one ofthemto check her over. But...if it got her out of there sooner...it may just be worth the short time of discomfort. Reluctantly, she nodded. John let out a breath and moved to stand. Darcy felt very much like a child when she reached out to him and asked pathetically, "Stay with me?"
He tipped his chin, lightly patting her back as he stepped away to retrieve the 'doctor'. It took him less than a minute to return with Ratchet's holoform in tow. Every muscle tensed as the thing approached her side, refusing to relax even when John reclaimed his place on her left.
"You had a dangerously high fever on top of the bacterial infection the unfiltered water gave you. The food you were given further weakened your immune system which is why it set upon you so quickly. You also had a rapid infection from whatever was on Knock Out's servo-tips when he pierced your side," he explained in a no-nonsense tone, motioning to the IV drip that was leaking onto the floor and her arm that lightly bled from where she'd carelessly ripped the needle free. "That was returning nutrients your body still desperately needs as well as antibiotics to boost your white blood cell strength and flush out whatever may still remain in your system. Now that you are awake, you can be removed from the drip on the condition that you strictly follow a set dietary plan for the next few weeks and take these twice a day until the bottle is empty."
He held up a pill bottle before setting it on the small table next to the bed when she made no move to take it from him. Darcy nodded at the instructions, stiffening when he reached for her arm. John's tightening grip on her other arm kept her from moving and the medic lightly lifted her arm to wipe away the blood before securing it with a bandage wrap. "Your shoulder joint never had the chance to properly heal and the tendons stretched too much to properly hold it in place."
Motioning to her tightly wrapped and taped shoulder, he warned, "You'll need to keep it as still as possible for a while before moving up to specific exercises, but it may never completely return to normal."
Darcy felt her world tilt, now concerned about how such an injury would affect her future job prospects. As long as she regained enough use of it to fire a gun and handcuff someone, she didn't much care about the specifics. Ithadto heal enough.
The medic paused to look her over. "I want to monitor you for the next few days, but I will release you on a few conditions."
He waited for her to agree. Even though her muscles were still tired and worn, her mind was not and she very much wanted to know about where she was. The holoform locked startling blue eyes with hers. "You will not go anywhere without a chaperone."
She growled low to herself. She did not need ababysitter!The medic snapped right over her wordless protest. "Your body is still weak and I didn't spend six hours putting you back together only to have you collapse in some unused hallway. Second, you report directly to me if your condition changes at all, even the smallest thing. And thirdly, you allow me to scan you before you go."
Cocking her head at the last request, she frowned as she glanced around for whatever equipment that could scan her. The memory of finding John's totalled car flashed behind her eyes. She leaned away from Ratchet. A blue light had come from Row's Charger-she mentally shook herself, had come fromProwl-to scan the mangled car and herself. The scanner was on their body, which meant that to scan her, the medic would need his actual self in the room. Taking a deep, steadying breath while squeezing John's hand, she silently assented. Suffering the alien's presence for a few minutes trumped being stuck here with him all day.
It was disconcerting when Ratchet simply vanished without a sound, much as the red mech Lennox had called Mirage had done. Speaking of the Major…
"Did Lennox make it out?" she asked the man at her side, drawing strength from him as the growl of an engine and heavy footfalls became progressively louder.
John nodded, "We all did."
"All?" She frowned, shifting through the disjointed haze that was her memory of that night.
The older man gave her a scrutinizing look. "What do you remember?"
Bits and pieces were definitely missing, but she thought she had put together most of it, if not the little details. "I remember Starscream having all those people killed and then someone Lennox called Mirage was there, and...something blew up?"
She wassureshe'd seen a giant ball of flames at one point, but she couldn't honestly be certain what or where. It was unnerving to realize how much was missing, but it only continued to elude her the more she fought to remember.
"Given the condition she was in when she arrived, that doesn't surprise me. She may have been conscious for it, but her mind was not actively registering what was going on. I doubt she remembers any of the times she's awoken in the last few days," Ratchet's voice reached him, though his body was still out of sight.
Darcy turned to John. She'd woken up? He winced, answering with reluctance, "You woke up four times, screaming. Ratchet had to sedate you so you wouldn't hurt anyone else."
"Else?" She looked around, as if expecting a mangled body to be on the floor from her doing.
He gave her a light shrug, as if it were no huge deal. "You decked the first doctor who tried to restrain you, broke his nose. That's when Ratchet took over."
She blew out a breath, rubbing her face as guilt tried to make an appearance. She didn't rememberanyof that. As far as she was aware, there was nothing after the fireball until she'd come to an hour ago. John gave her a light smile. "He'll be fine, Darce, you've got a hell of a right hook and they'll never let him live it down, but he'll be fine."
Any lightheartedness was gone the instant a large, yellow-green bot came into view. Darcy gripped John's arm tightly as it approached the other side of the railing she'd failed to notice some yards from the end of the bed. The human-sized beds were apparently on some platform that was half the height of the alien. He could easily reach over the rail and grab her if he so chose.
He made no move for her, only raising his forearm up to his chest. The same blue light that had emitted from Prowl's Charger ejected from some location on his arm, humming along her skin with its phantom touch for only a few brief seconds before fading out. "Vitals appear to be stabilizing."
He was talking to himself more than either of them as he continued to rumble updates and values she didn't hope to comprehend. After a moment the big mech turned away to look at something out of their sight line. Even Darcy could make out the alien's frown and slight growl.
"Unless you're injured,out. She's in no condition for a debrief right now," he snapped at whoever was around the corner.
"We've waited three days, both civilians have to be debriefed and sign silence contracts immediately," a male voice, full of pomp and self-importance, attempted to command back. The disgust on the medic's face made evident that not many went against him, and whoever this was was decidedly not well liked.
John huffed himself at the voice and stood, taking up a cross-armed stance at the foot of the bed. Apparently he knew who this was as well. For a man with impressive diplomacy skills when he wanted to use them, the defensive posturing indicated he was in no mood to tap into those skills for this individual.
A balding man who stood at least a head shorter than her mentor rounded the corner of the walkway, all crisp suit and oozing arrogance. He faltered to a halt when he came against the wall that was John. Despite being older, the retired detective could still cut an intimidating figure. Darcy fought a small grin; she'd seen that very stance get confessions without the man having to say a word.
"Mr. Williams, I'm glad you're here," the newcomer started, as if the older man's presence was all according to his plan. "You and Ms. Blake need to come with me. There is a lot we need to know about your involvement in all of this."
Darcy glanced from the scowling medic to John to the politician. Up an hour and they wanted all of the nitty gritty details even she wasn't completely sure of right this moment? It was inevitable, she knew, but surprising they'd bethison top of it. Even so, she found herself willing to get it over with. The sooner it was done, the sooner she could go on forgetting all of it. "I'll do it, let's just get it over with, John."
The politician appeared far too pleased with himself at her decision, as if he'd been detrimental in her choice. One of those, she rolled her eyes; a man who saw far too much importance in himself and his influence. It was no wonder neither John nor the medic liked him. In fact, she'd say the two were barely tolerating his presence.
Standing on shaky legs, John immediately appeared by her side, wrapping an arm around her waist for support. The self-important man who'd yet to introduce himself turned and led the way. With her mentor guiding her along, Darcy let her eyes wander. It appeared that the raised platform with the human-sized beds took up less than half of the massive room. The rest was covered in an assortment of odd tools and heaps of scrap metal. Giant slab tables and the like were scattered throughout. It was a medbay for both humans and aliens, set upforthe alien doctor to be able to reach all of his patients. She'd known they could die from a cave-in, but the fact that they could get hurt enough to require the equivalent of a hospital was strangely comforting. The dragons, she mused, were not as omnipotent as they appeared.
The suited man led them down several empty halls and Darcy didn't miss the wide berth and disgruntled looks nearly every soldier they came across gave the man. The dislike for him was evidently universal. Politics had no place in justice or defending the peace in her experience. All it served to do was push personal agendas and bury the truth under a chosen narrative, and those doing the pushing and burying always thought too highly of themselves.
He finally reached a door he didn't pass and instead opened it, gesturing inside. "Miss Blake."
She frowned at him, casting a side glance to John. "You're separating us?"
"We want to get your stories separately to ensure authenticity."
"You think we have a reason tolie?" John growled, his grip on her hip tightening in reflex. They were being treated likecriminalsnow? Why in the hell did they think they might hide something? Just what was going on here?
"I will be with you shortly." He motioned for her to enter again, impatience flashing across his speckled face.
Hesitatingly, she left John's support and stiffly limped her way through the doorway. Once clear, the door shut firmly behind her. On impulse she tested the handle; locked. Suspicion rocketed high as she glanced around at the single steel table, two metal chairs, and a large one-way window. An interrogation room, tucked down halls too small to accomodate the aliens.
Not that they couldn't simply bustthroughthe walls if they so chose to.
Forcing herself to sit in the chair facing away from the window, she tried several breathing techniques to get her racing heart back under control. They wouldn't have saved her just to harm her again. Ratchet, though gruff and massive andalien, had heavily implied he'd be rather cross if she did manage to get hurt again so soon after he'd fixed her up.
But when it came to potentially having information on terrorists, all bets were off on how humans with political agendas might act.
Time ticked slowly, more noticeable with the absence of a clock. Her leg bounced of its own volition, the deafening silence spiking her nerves. Would it be an alien holoform that came for what she knew of their enemy? Would it be Row-Prowl?
She scowled to herself. He better not show his not-face.
Without a clock and the quiet waiting driving her mad, her perception of time was rather skewed, but she was certain at least an hour passed before the door finally opened, emitting the damn politician from before.
"What the hell is this about?" she snapped, drumming her fingers on her wrapped arm.
"I need to know everything you saw while in Decepticon care," he started, no apology for the wait, no explanation, just diving straight to what he wanted.
As if he knew he didn't have much time.
Darcy narrowed her eyes. "I was in theircarefor damn near three weeks, I saw a lot."
His eyes flashed in...was that excitement? The hell was wrong with this guy? "Including Shockwave. What exactly was he doing?"
A shudder racked through her, screams echoing in her ears, the smell of burning flesh invading her nose. Her nails bit into her palm, dragging her back to the hard chair and the man in front of her. "He was experimenting on them."
"What was he trying to accomplish?" he pressed further, leaning across the table towards her.
Darcy leaned back. "I don't know, he didn't explain why he was horrifically murdering people and calling it data collection."
He dropped a notepad on the table and slid it towards her. "I need the details of the tools and methods."
Her wariness was through the roof and reaching the stratosphere. If everyone on base didn't like this guy, was it because he was in charge or because he onlythoughthe should be?
"I don't know details, I was a little distracted by peoplescreaminganddyingand thosethingsenjoying it so much," she bit, losing the fight to shove Wild Rider's mad cackling out of her mind.
Disappointment flashed across his face for a brief moment before he was pressing again. "What about the robots themselves? You got a close look at several of them. See anything special about their build? Weapons?"
Past panic and concern was quickly being overruled by annoyance as a growl worked its way up her throat. "I. Don't. Know. I was too busy trying to stay alive to try to figure out what made them tick."
He tsked under his breath, leaning back. "You're a detective aren't you? Isn't it your job to notice details?"
The dig had her bristling. Just what was he insinuating withthat? The interrogation-for that was exactly what it was-continued for some time; but he picked the wrong person to attempt his poor tactics on. She knew the tricks, had done them herself many times. No matter how he rephrased or reworded or danced around, he always circled back to one thing, the details of the aliens' technology and what they were doing with it.
Darcy soon fell back to snapping out negatives to everything, no longer caring if she actually knew the answer or not. Yes, she had partially worked out some of their make-up due to studying the dead one they'd been tasked with unburying, but she was so far beyond willing to cooperate with this bastard.
The door slammed open, revealing an irate soldier in his dress blues. Darcy didn't recognize him at first until she realized it was a clean Major Lennox. "Galloway, what the hell are you doing?"
Darcy didn't miss the soldier's fists tightening and neither did the suited man, judging by his minor flinch.
"Debriefing, Major." Despite the silent threat from the Major, Galloway replied with the haughtiness and arrogance he seemed unable to shed. He was confident his position would keep him safe and he expected it to garner himself respect from everyone else.
If only he had the slightest clue of how real people worked.
"Interrogating more like," Darcy growled.
"Debriefs are not under your authority, Galloway, nor is fishing for information you don't have clearance for." Lennox appeared angrier for the latter more than anything. Clearly this wasn't the first time an attempt had been made like this. Turning away and all but dismissing the man, Lennox offered Darcy a hand up and led her from the room. "I'm sorry about that. We'd hoped to keep you away from him a bit longer, but he's a persistent pain in the ass."
"What was that about?" she asked, watching John emerge from another door with a dark-skinned soldier.
"Galloway has an obsession with getting the technology the Autobots aren't willing to share, particularly their weapons," he sighed, nodding to the other men as they fell into step behind them.
The woman frowned. She'd seen very little of their weapons in real action, but by looks most of them appeared like enlarged forms of human tech, guns and saws and the like. "Why?"
The other soldier whose patch read 'Epps' answered, "They destroyed their planet in a civil war with those weapons and we humans are too quick to start a fight. They share the tech that helps us, but they don't want us to destroy our world too."
Lennox picked up from there, "Galloway and his ilk don't like being denied and they hate the 'bots for it. If they ever got their hands on the tech, it wouldn't surprise me if they turned on the Autobots."
"But...they saved us. You said yourself that they risked everything to stop the Decepticons in Mission City. Why turn on the alliance?" Not that shelikedthese things in any way, but in a fight against aliens, the best bet was always to work with aliens who understood who they were up against.
Lennox lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. "They hate relying on the Autobots for protection and even more the idea of needing help. They think if they have the tech, then they have no need for an alien alliance to beat the 'Cons."
Darcy shook her head in disbelief. Arrogance and pride at its finest. While she had no desire to be totally reliant on an alien for safety, there was no shame in relying on help to defeat a common enemy.
Cops relied on their partners to watch their backs, trusted them with their lives. Without that trust and loyalty, they couldn't do their jobs, couldn't put their lives on the line to protect the innocent.
The corridors they walked down widened out, soon becoming large enough for a robotic alien. Whether by chance or organizing, they came across none, for which Darcy was grateful. She might not want to see them betrayed by arrogant bureaucrats, but that didn't mean she wanted anything to do with them herself ever again.
"You are late, Major," a familiar monotone had Darcy freezing, a wave of conflicting emotions crashing down over her. Fear was first and foremost, because she knew what he was, one ofthem. Despite having saved her, their very nature and ability to kill her spiked the need to flee. Yet the fight was very much present as well, fed by the anger that followed the fear and threatened to overtake it. Anger at him, anger for the lies, the secrets, his role in her abduction, his role in all of it.
Lennox either didn't notice her raging emotions or chose to ignore them as he addressed the tactician's Karl Urban holoform. Seeing it now while knowing what it really was, she wasn't sure how she had ever missed it before. He wasn't just a spitting image, he was anexactcopy of the actor except for too-blue eyes. "Galloway tried interrogating them while we were setting up."
It was all he offered as he tugged Darcy forward. The impassionate holoform gave her a scrutinizing look. "And what did you tell him?"
"Nothing," she snipped, sick of being questioned so much already. This version of the man-alien-was easy to be mad at, was simple to push aside the fear. She didn't even consider being thankful to him for it.
Row, Prowl, whatever the hell she was supposed to call him now, remained staring at her. "And what exactly did you say 'nothing' about?"
"Are you seriously interrogating me about being interrogated?" She ripped herself from Lennox's support to stand in front of the alien facade, the flames of fury giving her the illusion of strength. "It's because ofyouthat I'm in this mess to begin with!"
The two soldiers flinched and John placed a calming hand on her shoulder that she roughly shrugged off. The fake man's brow hitched mildly. "On the contrary, I attempted to keep you out of it. Had you simply listened to my orders then you never would have been involved further."
The detective scoffed, fist clenching at her side as different emotions fought for control. "If you had given mesomeclue of what was actually going on instead of trying to trick me away, I would have been able to avoid trouble!"
She was aware she was shouting, that they were gaining an audience, but adrenaline was firing through her, egging and urging her to keep going, to not care about the stares. His head made a slight movement that suggested he'd probably have snorted had he been human. "You look for trouble. You would have only avoided it had you followed my instructions. This information is need-to-know, and until now you had no business knowing. The only one to blame for being captured is yourself."
Incredulous fury won by a landslide. Not a thought was given to the two ranking soldiers behind her, or the audience, or the fact that the man before her wasn't evenreal. Her fist flew and connected solidly to his face.
She really wished the resoundingcrackhad been his nose, but the flaring pain erupting from her knuckles told otherwise.
Still, the force snapped his head to the side and true surprise etched across his face and that gave her some satisfaction, even more so when the form blurred and dissipated.
John pulled her away the moment his shock wore off and she let him, cradling her pulsing hand against her chest. Most of the surrounding crowd wore varying expressions of shock and surprise, while others began to lose the fight against hiding their grins.
Lennox sighed, rubbing a tired hand across his face.Thatwas not going to go over well, even if she hadn't done any real damage except to herself.
"That was not a very good idea," he reprimanded her lightly.
"Seemed like a good idea at the time," Darcy hissed as John pulled her hand towards him and prodded the knuckles. Definitely bruised bones and the skin was split a fair way, oozing blood. Damn his face was hard.
"Ratchet will be furious you've managed to hurt yourself so soon after getting out of his medbay," the Major cautioned, though his look was tinged with amusement.
"I think even the Hatchet will give her a break once he hearshowshe hurt herself," Epps cut in with a chuckle and a shake of his head. "Do you know how many people have wanted to do that? Even the twins will be impressed!"
Half of his statement flew straight over her head, but by the bit she did understand, she gathered that it wasn't any form of special treatment reserved for her; Prowl was just a dick to everyone. Lennox shook his head, hiding a tiny grin as he motioned them over. "Come on, Ratchet will be at the actual debrief so he can fix your hand there."
He turned, passing through a door she'd failed to notice but must have been where Prowl's holoform had come through. Halting at the threshold, she tensed as her eyes scanned the open room before her. It was more apt to call the thing a hanger, really, and mostly likely it had been at one point in its life. The door opened out to a raised walkway that skirted the wall, ending in a large platform that jutted out into the room. It boasted a large table pressed against the rail, chairs lining the opposite length. It resembled half of a conference room really, which was odd but not all that jarring. What set her on edge was therestof the hanger, specifically the part on the other side of that table that mirrored the other platform except for being colossally larger.
And lined by massive, alien, robots.
John urged her completely through the doorway from behind, forcing her stiff limbs to carry her forward. Several of the Autobots turned to glance their way and she felt what little bravado she had left race for the hills. Lennox fell back to her other side and between the two men, she felt barely enough security to walk closer.
She recognized Prowl first, handing off a small smoking electrical box of some sort to a green robot who turned and walked off with it. The recognizable features of the Charger were more prominent now that she was seeing him in real light. The light bar was even completely whole and strung across his back below the two doors that jutted out like little wings. The fear was there, but it was left to simmer under the anger and annoyance she felt towards him.
So long as sheonlylooked at him.
The others were an entirely different story. Looking at the largest-and leader, she thought she heard Lennox saying-made her feel distinctly faint.
Before she could finish taking in the massive red and blue tower of an alien, Dr. Wilson's twin appeared in front of her. She lurched away, practically shoving herself into the Major. The medic's holoform raised a brow and held out a hand expectantly. He was utterly unimpressed by her timidly offering her bloodied hand, and she swore he wrapped it more tightly than was strictly necessary.
"I suggest not punching holoforms anymore," he snarked once he was finished and the human form disappeared, his real body shifting from beside the leader.
"Ms. Blake, I apologize for the stress of the situation, we will try to make this as brief as possible." The deep baritone of the biggest bot rattled her very bones. That is, until she realized it wasn't his voice that was shaking her. Her body was trembling of its own accord, anger forgotten in the face of something so much larger. She was an ant compared to this alien, insignificant, tiny. He probably wouldn't even be able to notice if he stepped on her, or crushed her under a massive fist.
"With your permission, Optimus, I'd like to run the debrief," Prowl stated as the two men convinced the detective to sit before her traitorous legs gave out or bolted for the door. She didn't like sitting, didn't like making herself even smaller than these things, but she wasn't sure she would have been able to keep standing much longer. The cold ice in her veins ensured she wouldn't have.
The tactician was staring at the leader, some kind of silent communication taking place before the red and blue gave a nod. Darcy frowned at the black and white, a sour taste in her tongue knowing he would be questioning her again. This time she definitely couldn't hit him.
To her surprise, he didn't immediately turn to her, but rather to the man seated next to her. "Mr. Williams, if you could walk us through your experience starting the day Barricade abducted you."
John was somehow as steady as a rock beside her, even as he recounted the ordeal of the alien Mustang's attack and the following days, which sounded identical to the days Darcy spent in the Decepticon's 'care'. The tactician let him continue uninterrupted all the way through to their rescue, in which he turned to Lennox and asked for his tale, should it differ from John's.
The Major's account was more detailed when it came to the Decepticons involved and the discussions he'd overheard, but otherwise little new to add. By the time Prowl turned his attention on Darcy, the only memory that was hers alone was the journey to the enemy base, and it seemed rather unimportant given the silence Barricade had ensured lasted the entire way. No, wait, there was another memory there, fuzzy at best, sharpening a little the more she thought about it, from when she'd first been brought before Starscream. Nothing stood out as truly important though. No doubt these things already knew of the discord between the Mustang and the jet.
"Now detective, do you remember anything else?" It was an innocent enough question, but coming fromhim, despite barely having a tone, rang a little too close to what Galloway had been insinuating earlier. Irritation raised its head again, glaring at the faux-cop car.
"Barricade blacked out the windows and kept silent the entire time except to threaten me if I said anything," she snapped, daring to meet those glowing blue optics and locking on. Spine tightening, she latched onto the bravado and the faint memory. "Starscream was pissed, said that he didn't want attention brought to them so soon and to get rid of me. He changed his mind after saying the plan could still be salvaged if they started Stage Two early."
A multitude of murmurs broke out at her statement and Prowl shifted, his attention solely on her. "Did you hear anything about what their plans might be?"
She shook her head, "Only that having thepetswould be extra leverage against you."
"And yet they wiped out most of the humans they had and didn't try to use you when we attacked." It was more of a curious statement to himself than a question, but answered by Lennox nonetheless.
"They didn't totally kill all the NEST relatives, only those they'd taken primarily for labor. The relatives were kept alive, or at least they gave the equivalent of trying to keep them alive by not intentionally killing them for no reason."
The tactician's optics brightened. "They are targeting you then. The leverage is not so much for us, though they can still be used as such, but rather for our allies. They have noticed the advantage working with humans has given us and wish to nullify it."
Lennox frowned, "But targeting our families will make us fight harder for them."
His metal expression didn't change, but somehow the look was still challenging. "Would you fight if a Decepticon held your wife in their claws? Would you make a move if her life would end the moment you did so?"
The man gave no answer, nor did he need to, they all knew what they would do in that situation. The same thing Prowl had done for her when Barricade had her, Darcy realized; give them their best chance of survival by backing down and to hell with the consequences. Prowl continued, "Your weakness as humans is in your emotional ties to your family units and they are exploiting that."
Epps jumped in and Darcy startled, having forgotten he was even there. "We need to bring those families in then, get them protection. They'll be looking for more since we rescued who they had."
"And how do you propose we do that? You humans have large units; cousins and grandparents and the like," Prowl countered. "If the Decepticons cannot get to one, they will get to the others. The only way to make them safe is to figure out what Starscream is planning and stop it."
"That still doesn't explain why they didn't use them orusyet. Barricade ran right by us when the base was under attack. He didn't know Mirage was there yet he made no move to grab anyone before joining the fight," Darcy cocked her head at the tactician as Lennox finished. There was light scorching across his chest that indicated he had been involved in the fighting, so why hadn't Barricade grabbed her to do as he'd promised so many times and kill her in front of his enemy?
Prowl regarded her, his head dipping in a partial nod. "There are two reasons I can postulate having the most likelihood of being valid. Either they simply forgot about the humans in the surprise of the attack, as we had hoped, or they were sure of their victory, unaware of our spies planting bombs throughout the tunnels."
"Or," Darcy offered with a wince, scratching at her bandaged arm, "part of Stage Two waslettingus get rescued."
Which was a far more terrifying notion than anything else.
"You knew about the tracker?" Skywarp asked in bewilderment, leaning over the console that sat smack in the center of the bridge of the Nemesis. The colossal ship was still grounded, had been since it crash landed over a year ago, but repairs were on-going and even flightless it gave them an advantage.
"Of course I did, you idiot! Why do you think Soundwave didn't block it?" Starscream snapped, shoving the purple jet back. The mountainous base had been useful for its energon mine and giving Shockwave a place to work on one of his experiments, but it had hardly been the most functional base they had at their disposal, even barring the Nemesis. Though he loathed the loss of the energon, the base itself was nothing he was loathe to lose.
"Why let the pets get away then?" Breakdown stood with Wild Rider, the only remaining Stunticons after the other three had been buried under the mountain. Starscream saw no great loss there either.
"Where would the Autoscum take their precious pets?" he grinned as he brought up the radar screen on the console, which showed a grey-scaled 3D map of the country.
"Back to base, which we don't know where it is, and they already found the chips we put in them," Thundercracker stated, arms crossed as he looked blankly at the map.
The trine leader smirked, pressing commands into the computer that had the blank radar flashing two red dots, nearly on top of each other. "They found the chips wewantedthem to find. And now, now we know their location."
He turned, facing the assembled mechs before him. "Decepticons! Our victory is here! Soon the Autoscum will be nothing but a bad memory!"
The bridge erupted into cheers and laughs before the small army filed out. They had a heading, and once there, they would rain fire and destruction on their enemy. Thundercracker vented softly as he watched the mechs go. Since when had victory meant mindless slaughter? It wasn't a battle he was going to relish. Casting a glance at Starscream, he made surethatparticular thought didn't cross the bond. Trine or not, the silver jet would have his head for such traitorous thinking.
With the leader deep in the plotting of the coming attack, Thundercracker decided a good recharge was sorely needed. With Shockwave's lab still the center of repairs and out of commission on board, he at least had a decently fair chance at a peaceful one.
Soon, hellfire would reign and perhaps after, he could return to his long abandoned work.
Chapter 17: Fractured Spirit
Chapter Text
Friendship multiplies the good in life and divides the evil. ~Baltasar Gracian
The briefing continued on for some time, several of the Autobots stepping in to cover various topics that went along with their specialties. Darcy did not hear most of it. Her eyes dropped to the table in front of her and stayed there now that she couldn't ignore the existence of the other aliens in the room. Her body flinched whenever the floor rumbled with their movement. She might have bolted for the door had John and Lennox not shifted to neatly pin her between them. The aliens did not address her directly again, or if they did she didn't notice and one of the men answered for her. Her hand rubbed idly over her injured knuckles, mind spinning in circles. She knew she should pay attention, that what was being discussed could very well concern her and her future. There could be critical information going around, but still she could not force herself to focus on the words, could not bring her eyes to rise from the table. Not even when Prowl spoke again, though her brows pulled down at his voice. He said something about sending her home. Yes, please, send her home. Let her leave all of this behind, let her go back to a semblance of normalcy and reality. This was all a bad dream, a hell that she could escape from if only they let her back home. More words passed around, she worked out some of them, frowning further as she gathered what they could be saying.
It was not a promise of freedom.
Time passed in a blur of moments she couldn't keep track of. Eventually, Darcy found herself wandering the halls of the base, studiously ignoring everyone around her. There were fewer corridors that were small enough to limit the bots than she'd hoped, so she just let herself wander, changing direction when one crossed her path. For the most part she was ignored, as soldiers scurried about doing one task or the other. The base was still being renovated from its previous purpose, so the flurry of activity was concentrated and several untouched halls remained empty.
At least in all the activity following the debrief, no one had remembered to assign her a chaperone for her wanderings. Whatever medication Ratchet had forced into her earlier appeared to be long lasting. Though her knuckles certainly still burned, her shoulder was manageable enough to abandon the sling on a table somewhere early in her exploring.
The Hoover Dam, she'd been told, was where they were being held for the time being. John was to be released back to his family the following day, but evidently her involvement with Prowl was complicating things. They hadn't been able to tell when exactly she'd be free to return home, and the leader-Optimus Prime, she thought she remembered his name being-had advised her against it entirely. The Decepticons would look for her and she would be safest there on base with them.
Yeah. Right.
Behind all the words of comfort, she got the message. She was their captive. She'd just traded one prison for one with better accommodations.
At least here there were places where she could get away fromthem, little corners where they'd never be able to fit. For the most part, it appeared they preferred walking around rather than driving, and none were as small as the cat had been. It was hardly much of a relief, but it was something. The few that crossed her path ignored her, wrapped up in conversation with whoever they were walking with. It didn't seem that some of the humans realized they were talking to a robotic alien who towered above them, could squish them as easily as they could a bug. They joked and laughed as if it was their best friend, as if everything was perfectly normal.
Darcy didn't want to hang around long enough that such a thing would ever become routine.
"So this is the one that's had Prowler in such a tizzy lately."
She jerked at the unfamiliar voice, eyes flashing up from the floor. Up and up her gaze had to go, over flashy silver paint and the front bumper of a car that cost more than her yearly salary. "Wha-what?"
Her body took an involuntary step back, putting her back securely against the wall. This one hadn't been at the briefing, she was sure of it. She'd hoped that had been all of them, but evidently there were even more. Somehow this one had gotten close without her hearing his approach. The tires that supported his entire weight supplied the answer for that, but it did little to ease the shock, or fear. They coulddothat? Was it just this one or could they all shift their weight to glide around on near silent wheels?
The floor flexed beneath her feet, as if a minor tremor was rolling through the concrete. It was a feeling she now associated with the walking of one of those things. Behind the silver one, a yellow approached. They were similar looking-as much as robots could be similar anyway-though this one wasn't gliding around on his tires, and looked to have a sour expression on what passed for his face. The glance he spared her was filled with disdain, and she was only grateful that it did not last long.
"So?" The yellow one paused, his path currently blocked by the silver. Darcy sorely wished the latter would let the former through and on his way. Every nerve stood on end with that look, and now she was outnumbered.
"So? She punched his holoform so hard it broke his projector!" For whatever reason, he seemed entirely too excited about that bit of information. The yellow shifted ever so slightly.
"So we have this one to thank for his terrible mood then." He didn't sound impressed in the least.
"Oh come on, Sunny, you thought it was funny when you heard about it."
"Don't call me that." There was a growl to the voice, but it lacked serious heat. Not that these things had ever needed real anger to justify squishing a human.
Darcy glanced around, noting the distinct lack in any sort of other traffic that might serve to distract the two. They appeared pretty well distracted by each other for the moment, perhaps she just might be able to slip away unnoticed, if she stayed close to the wall….
"Hey! Where are you going?" Her heart leapt into her throat, feet freezing in place. Damn it.
"Sideswipe! Prowler wants ta see ya," a new voice reverberated down the hall, a deep thick accent that rolled across her skin.
The big silver alien turned away to glance down the hall. Whatever relief the newcomer might have granted evaporated the second Darcy turned to see who it was. Another. Fucking. Alien.
In her effort to avoid them, she'd somehow ended up in the only hallway where no other humans wandered, but all of the robots did. At least this one was shorter, but she knew that did not mean less lethal. There were three now, effectively boxing her in. The larger silver was straight in front of her, the yellow blocked escape to the right, and this newcomer took up the path back.
"Jazz! I'm surprised Ratchet let you out unsupervised." The larger silver leaned back, one tire rolling a bit before locking into place.
"Ha, please, like 'e could really keep meh locked up for long. Prowler can, and will lock ya up though, if ya keep 'im waitin' for too long." This one had a glowing visor that somehow seemed to light up with mirth. For whatever reason, despite the secretive nature of such a thing, it was more comforting that the direct stare of their eyes...or optics...or whatever.
"Bah, as much as I'd love to prove he can't hold the likes of me, he's been getting creative lately. Another time then, ah, darling I didn't catch your name." Darcy stiffened at once again finding herself at the focus of their scrutiny.
"Catch it later, Sides. Times a tickin'."
The big silver alien shrugged and waved cheerfully as he practically skated down the hall, the golden following at a slower pace. The detective felt the air thin considerably, her muscles slowly unclenching.
"I know those two can be a bit overwhelmin'." She blinked at the third alien, who'd blessedly made no move to come any closer. He was leaning against the wall, as much a picture of relaxation as a giant robot could be. Turning to pitch the visor towards where the other two had disappeared, he pushed off the wall, though didn't make a move towards her. "We've got about two clicks before 'e realizes Prowler didn't call 'em. Will ya allow me ta accompany ya elsewhere?"
It was strange that he would ask such a thing, it wasn't as if there was anything the detective could do to stop him if she wanted to be left alone. When she forced the words out, her voice was not as strong as she would have liked, "Do I have a choice?"
He cocked his head to one side. "Yes."
Darcy stalled, her eyes flashing to that glowing visor. It was as unreadable as all the others, and yet...somehow, the light seemed softer. Perhaps...perhaps allowing this one to hang around would keep the larger ones from bothering her.
"Fine, err, yes, I suppose."
Her muscles tensed as he took a step forward. He paused. Slowly, ever so impressively slowly, the panels along his body shifted and his shape grew smaller. In the longest transformation sequence she'd seen thus far, 'Jazz' the alien robot disappeared into the shape of a silver Porsche. If she wasn't scared out of her wits, she might have marveled at the real look at the complexity of their transformations. Staying on the far side of the corridor, the car idled forward. Darcy watched it cautiously.
Some six feet away it-he-came to a stop and the door popped open. A man stepped out smoothly, turned to look at his ride, and whistled. "I knew this would look good on meh!"
Darcy couldn't help but raise her brows as she looked over the holoform, who looked so perfectly and innocently human. If she looked at him instead of the car, she could believe she was talking to a flesh and blood person. "Shemar Moore, really?"
The man raised his hands, as if showing himself off. "Got a problem wit' this one?"
"Doesn't, ah, match with the voice so much." Would he be angry that she'd say such a thing? It'd taken so little to turn the Cons murderous.
He paused, eyebrows scrunching together. The voice that came out was a perfect imitation of the actor. "Better?"
"No." Because it was too perfect, because it might be too easy to forget she wasn't talking to a real man. At least he wasn't mad.
"Good, 'cause it's a li'tle weird for meh, Baby Girl." Now he was laying the accent on thick, throwing a charming grin into the mix.
Darcy couldn't help it, she snorted.
"There she is." His smile was soft now as he motioned for her to lead the way, keeping respectful distance between them.
"What?" Her legs finally lost some of the weight pinning them to the floor, slowly allowing her to move again. The car-the alien's actual body-waited some time before rolling along, keeping plenty of space between it and her.
Darcy couldn't vocalize how much she appreciated that.
"The name's Jazz, by the way," he mentioned lightly, the holoform shoving its hands in its pockets, a picture of ease.
The cop didn't really know what to do with that. "Darcy, though I assume you knew that already."
That grin flashed back. "Of course, Sides' wasn't kiddin' when he said everyone thought it hilarious ya broke Prowler's holo-projector. That spread faster than any rumor could hope to."
"I didn't actually mean to break it, he's just so... infuriating and I wanted him to feel even a portion of how much." Usually she liked to think she had a pretty good check on her temper, but sometimes, with the right buttons being pushed when she was already at wit's end, the holds broke loose. She wasn't exactly proud of striking the holoform, and less so of breaking the projector.
Jazz tipped his head back and laughed, even the Porsche rumbling with it. "Everyonewantsta hit 'im on occasion, but no one is ever brave enough ta actuallydoit."
"John always said I could have a hot head if I wasn't careful," she shrugged before wincing, wrapping her arms around herself, "Is he very angry about that?"
Shemar's twin snorted before shaking his head and waving his hand as if it was all no big deal. "He'll ge' over it, it'd been glitchin' out anyway. He won't be lookin' for retribution or nothin'."
He cocked his head to regard her for a long moment after, but he didn't say anything else. For the first time in she couldn't say how long, Darcy felt the silence was comfortable. That purring engine behind her couldn't be ignored, but she didn't feel the need to check on the distance every few seconds. They walked for some time with little interruption. Several soldiers passed, a few hollering friendly hello's to the car behind her. One or two even gave it a playful slap on the roof. The holoform at her side never once lost the easy smile and the car only ever revved in response to the soldiers' antics. How, the woman had no idea, but somehow the purr didn't sound as threatening as the other's. Where they were she'd long lost track, but they didn't come across another alien the entire time. Whether it was sheer luck or something organized by the one at her side, she had only a suspicion.
"I'm sorry," he finally broke the silence as they turned down another empty hallway. Darcy had gotten so used to the quiet that his voice almost made her jump out of her skin.
"For what?" she paused in her steps, facing the holoform fully in her bafflement. Of all the aliens she'd gotten the 'chance' to meet, he had the least to apologize for. In fact, she knew she should probably bethankinghim.
"For everything the 'Cons put ya through. For ya having to meet us through them. We may be different sides, but we're of the same coin. I wish our war hadn' come here. So I'm sorry, for what ya had ta see and go through. I think you're very brave for doin' what ya did."
Darcy shoved her hands in her pockets, shrugging as she turned back to resume the trek down the hall. "I didn't do anything, though."
She should have. She should have donesomethingthat could have helped those people. Anything. Even if it killed her, even if she couldn't think of what she possibly could have done even now. There had to besomething. It was eating her up that she was here, alive and somewhat physically well, while so many had only one end to their suffering.
"You survived. You're still here. Ya haven't gone screaming for the hills."
"I only made it because they let me, and I haven't found the door yet." Her living was due in no part to any actions of hers. It wasn't even dumb luck, it was John and Major Lennox.
And the cavalry arriving just as her time was running out.
The hand that softly gripped her arm was warm and weathered. Blue eyes conveyed more emotion that she'd ever seen come from the other false humans. The Porsche had come a bit closer now, but made no move to close the remaining distance. "Ya made it because you're strong. Don't blame yourself for makin' it when they didn't. There was nothin' ya coulda done. You didn't give up on the case when others told ya to. You're the reason we found out about what the 'Cons were up to. Ya saved hundreds by bein' a good cop."
Darcy could only stare at him, at a loss. She knew it was what she so badly needed to hear, knew that he was telling the truth. There was nothing she could have done to help the ones already captured. So many more would have been lost had she set down the case files, attributed the rising numbers to bad weather, if she'd never gone behind her boss's back and attempted to call the FBI.
But still….
So many dead.
So many lives destroyed.
So many families ripped apart.
So many loved ones who would never know what really happened.
And nothing a tiny human could have done to stop it.
She sighed for what felt like the thousandth time since waking up.
"I'll try to remember that." It was all she could promise, she knew Jazz had been waiting for some kind of response, but that was the best she could offer.
He nodded, that easy smile gracing over his lips again before he released her arm. Bending his, he offered his crooked elbow to her. "As long as ye try, and I'll be happy ta remind ya when ya need it."
Darcy hesitated. She wanted to be terrified of him, he was one ofthemafter all. She wanted to run, she wanted to put as much space between them as she could.
Her hand lightly rested on his arm. Jazz was different, even from the fellow Autobots. She may not want to get used to their presence, but maybe he could help her not be so afraid just to talk to one if she had to. She didn't like being weak, she didn't like being afraid. And maybe, just maybe, this one could expedite the process of getting her home.
She could only hope.
"Jazz….would you be honest with me?" It felt wrong, like some sort of trick to be trusting this….thing...so soon after everything. She didn'twantto trust him, to trust an alien. But there was something that made it hard not to, an openness that was ironic considering the very nature of the visor his real body had.
"I'm always honest!" he boasted before his eyes caught hers and his expression sobered some. The holoform had no shades. The emotion there could all be faked, would probably be easy for them to do so, but she couldn't help but believe it.
"What are my chances of going home?" It was hard to ask, hard to force the words out. She was scared of the answer. Would it be never? Would they keep her here indefinitely because of some made up connection to Row...Prowl? Was there even a home left for her to go to?
He sighed heavily, the sound in stereo as the Porsche released a vent in tandem. A sure sign that the answer was the opposite of what she was hoping for.
"Once you're medically released, we aren't gonna hold ya captive or tell ya ya can't go home, but…," of course there was a but, there was always a but, "wewillstrongly advise against it. At least until the immediate threat of the 'Cons is over."
A part wondered if they would really try targeting her again if she was away from their true enemy. The hatred in Barricade's voice answered that one readily enough. He would just out of spite, just for the simple fact of sticking it to Prowl. No doubt they were evil enough to do it simply because she'd escaped them as well.
"And how long until that threat is over?" She knew the answer before she'd even asked, but still, she wondered how honest he would be with her.
"I wish I could say tomorra, or next week, or even a month from now. We may get the upper hand now n' then, but they're never really gone. Just waitin' for the next opportunity." He tipped his head. She glanced back, the car was only a few paces away, closer than it had been before. She jolted as his voice came from both it and the holoform next to her. "We've been fightin' a long time, but Earth feels different. I think the 'Cons feel it too. Either way it goes, I think our war finally ends here."
Either way it goes. Somehow that didn't sound very reassuring, despite the victory they'd just had over their enemies. What would the world look like, if the Decepticons won? She couldn't imagine they would stay quiet or secret for long. She wished neither side had come here, had found some other planet to have their war on, but if they had to be here, then at least the Autobots had come to try to help the people. Better that than to live in a world completely under the Decepticons' thumb.
"What do they want?" she asked with a frown. "Other than world domination, I mean. They act like humans are so far beneath them, but the experiments….."
She closed her eyes, tried to repress the image of the woman in the blue liquid that disintegrated her even as she screamed. It was all she could see, all she could hear, the smell of metal and blood clogged her nose. The psycho 'Con's cackling somehow louder than the wails of terror and agony while his engine purred in delight.
"Darcy, Darcy!" She reeled back from a grip on her shoulders, falling back as her knees hit a firm object.
Looking around rapidly, she blinked several times at Shemar….no,Jazz, standing in front of her, arms outstretched like he'd meant to catch her.
"Easy, Darce, you're safe here. You're not back there anymore."
No, the walls were steel gray, not black and wet. There were no screams, no copper smell of blood, no cackling. Just a man standing stone still, the smell of clean metal, the soft purr of a high performance engine, and warmth under her palms.
Warmth. The floor wasn't warm. But she wasn't low enough to have actually fallen all the way back to the floor. The way Jazz was watching her, not moving, like she was a startled rabbit that might suddenly fly away at any motion. Her blood ran very cold very fast. She'd fallen back on the hood of the Porsche, on the hood of analien.
It was a fight to move, to get up as fast as she possibly could and run far, a fight against her frozen limbs, her muscles clenched tight in fear, waiting for that fatal blow to come. Her will to flee outweighed the fear of moving and she lurched herself off of the car, intending to put rapid distance between it and her.
Jazz was there to intercept her. His arms came completely around her, firm but gentle as he spoke over her rapid-fire apologies. "Don't be sorry Darce, I've got ya, it's gonna be alrigh'."
That was a lie, she felt, how could this ever be alright? How couldsheever be alright?
"I...I would like to be alone now, please," her voice cracked, arms wrapping tightly around herself. She didn't want to be around anyone like this, especially not an alien, not now.
Conflict raged across his face, no, the holoform's face. It wasn't really him. It was just a lie, an illusion, it wasn't a real person. Even if he felt warm and solid holding her upright, it was still fake. Hesitantly, he nodded, releasing her to step away back towards his car….his real self. "If ya wanna talk, you can always come ta me."
She nodded once as he turned to leave her in that hallway, backtracking several paces to put her back to the wall to give him space to go.
He paused, mouth dropping open like he wanted to say something. She turned her head away, hoping he would choose to go in silence. He did, rumbling his engine louder than necessary as he disappeared around the corner. She was alone, just like she wanted.
Just what she didn't really want to be and yet was desperately craving. For shit's sake she couldn't even sort out her own head.
She did know for certain that she had no intentions of running into another Autobot while she was alone. Somehow she doubted any of the others would be as accommodating to her wishes as Jazz had been. Humans, she needed to find humans and lose herself among them. There had to be some kind of rec room around here. With any luck there would be people-only sized ones somewhere.
Her luck had clearly run out, but at least she was able to find what she was looking for. Three pool tables, a wall of TV's, and several various sized couches marked the official purpose of the room, she just wished it wasn't so bloodybigand packed with couches and counters of the alien size. At least there was only one lounging at the moment, vastly outnumbered by the soldiers and green paint blending well with the soldiers' fatigues.
An empty armchair put her in the vicinity of a group of laughing men. Not close enough to encourage them to draw her into conversation, but enough to make it look like she was occupied to the casual observer.
The drone of some video game on the main screen and the jeers of the players was enough to drown out the hiss of hydraulics whenever the single Autobot moved. His voice blended well enough that if she closed her eyes, she could pretend they were all human. So she did, curling up as tight as her body would allow and just listened to the drone of cheerful competition.
Falling asleep in the rec room must have been a semi regular occurrence, because when she came to a good time later, it was an entirely new group of soldiers that surrounded her. No one had bothered her for claiming the chair for however many hours, no one had told her to go sleep in her room, which she belatedly realized she didn't have outside of the medbay. She'd been left to sleep, which her mind had desperately needed and taken in a blessedly dreamless fashion. Her body was making her pay for her chosen mattress in aching far worse than it had yet. Ratchet's pain meds had worn off and frankly, she had no idea where the bottle of pills he'd given her had ended up. Not particularly looking forward to the idea of attempting to find the medbay or going back to it, she stiffly shifted to her other side and closed her eyes again.
There was a rule about letting sleeping soldiers lie, maybe she could get away with taking advantage of it until they cleared her to go home.
"Detective." Ripped from sleep with a jolt, Darcy blearily looked around for whoever the hell was addressing her. The rec room was practically empty, a single pair of men playing cards in one corner was her only company and neither of them were looking at her. Feeling her heart attempt to beat its way out of her chest, she raised her gaze.
Prowl was twenty feet away. Not Row, not the Charger, but Prowl as himself. His very large, veryalienself. The black and white color scheme was too much like Barricade. She pressed herself into the chair. Jazz had said he wasn't mad about the broken projector, but that didn't make it true. They'd killed for less before.
"Prowl." Her eyes tracked the exits, but the only human sized door was too far away. Even if she bolted there was no chance of reaching it before he reached her.
Her skin crawled as he looked at her. She hated this. Hated being too afraid to meet his gaze, afraid of the tremors in the floor.
"Detective Williams is preparing to leave. I assume you wish to say your farewells." He turned on his heel and started out of the room, pausing to glance back when she didn't move to follow. "I shall show you to him."
Regretfully, Darcy stiffly unfolded herself from the chair. Muscles and joints groaned in pained protest, her injured arm nearing total numbness. Sleeping in the chair had definitely not been the best of ideas, but at least the rest had been dreamless.
It took several stumbled steps for the feeling to return to her legs and she resolutely did not look at Prowl as she made her way over to him.
"Do you require a ride?" Darcy nearly tripped over herself lurching away from thought of climbing inside another alien made her distinctly faint and ill. Even this one, who she'd ridden in without knowing many times. Hell, she'dstolenhim at one point. Or rather, he let her, which was one of the most confusing things he'd done since she met the fake him.
"I'd rather walk." Would she even be able to look at normal cars the same again? Was there a way to tell alien from cold metal, or would she be forever stuck not knowing for sure?
Too many questions and she'd never get close to figuring them out stuck in this base. She just wanted to gohome. She just wanted to move on with her life, put it all behind her. And yet that could be impossible because of a damn personal feud between the alien in front of her and the other faux police rig.
Screw them all and the asteroid they rode in on.Keeping behind and across the corridor from Prowl, Darcy followed as he continued on. Maybe it wasn't true. Maybe if she got away from them all then she would be okay. Maybe Barricade would leave her alone. Maybe she could hide from all of them.
Damn it all, I am not a coward!Only as her heart thudded in strength to match Prowl's steps, she realized that in this, she was. She'd spent her life facing down the worst humanity had to offer, but facing the worst the universe had to offer was too much. She wasn't a soldier. She was a small town cop who just wanted to check back into reality.
Prowl led her to a massive hanger that was lined with military trucks rigged with high powered rifles on the roofs. Every one of them sporting the NEST logo on their doors. John and his wife were waiting at the other end by a large garage door that was retracted up. The outside air felt cool against her skin, but the darkness provided no views as to what lay beyond the door. Figures, her first glimpse of escape was at night.
John wrapped her in a tight hug the moment she reached him. Despite the pain, she gripped him just as tightly.
"Stay safe, Darce. And call me if you need anything, you hear?" he whispered into her ear. She didn't want him to go, but she couldn't ask him to stay. So she nodded, swallowing the thick lump in her throat.
"Where will you go?" She didn't think they'd just try to go back home and continue on with their previous retirement plans in the same house. It wouldn't be safe. What if Barricade came back?
John pulled away to crack a weak grin. "Jules always wanted to see the Everglades, so we were thinking Florida."
Darcy couldn't help but snort a little, eyeing her old partner and his wife. "Florida? Don't you think that's a little stereotypical?"
His grin widened, turned more genuine as he chuckled and stepped back to tuck his arm around his wife. "I think it'swarm. I've done my time driving in the snow."
It was also very far from the mountains of Washington or the forests of Idaho, she noted, and she couldn't help but feel a little envy that he was able to leave already. No, she should be happy that he was getting to leave, to start his life up again, enjoy his retirement. She just wished she could go with him.
Glancing back at the rig that was waiting to take them home, it took her a moment to recognize the black behemoth of a truck. Lennox was unnecessarily sitting in the driver's seat, looking like he was in the middle of an argument with no one. Or no, he was arguing with the truck, withIronhide. Right, the weapons specialist, the self-declared big guns of the operation. If anyone could make sure John and Juliet got home safety, it was this tank of a Topkick.
"Don't let Prowl drive you too crazy," John winked with an easy smile thrown to the tactician still standing behind her. Three days, she reminded herself. He'd been around the Autobots for three days already while she was unconscious. "I'll be seeing you soon, Darce."
She could only nod as he followed his wife into Ironhide's cab, waving weakly as the truck rumbled out the open door and into the night. Her feet stayed rooted long after the taillights had disappeared from view.
No, she rather doubted they'd be seeing each other anytime soon.
Heaving a sigh, she turned as the large door glided closed and jolted at finding Prowl still standing there. Why the hell was he still there?
Skirting around to give him a wide berth, Darcy started back the way she had come. This base was an utter maze of tunnels and right now she only generally knew the way back to the rec room. If it was still empty, she might be able to claim a couch this time.
Until she realized Prowl was following her.
"Was there something else you needed?" she chanced asking, hoping it was just a coincidence that he was going this way too. The way he stayed a pace behind her wasn't entirely convincing of that notion though.
"No." She stopped walking and so did he.
"Then can I ask why you're hovering?" It grated her nerves to have him so close, especially in that….form.
His blue gaze met hers evenly and she had to fight not to look away. "Ratchet's conditions upon you leaving his medbay required a chaperone to ensure you did not relapse and injure yourself further. As there is no one else currently around, that duty falls to me."
Flippingfantastic. "I don't need a babysitter. I'm fine."
She swore his face went through the motion of raising a brow he didn't actually have. "I will rely upon Ratchet's expertise in determining such."
Growling under her breath, Darcy tossed her arms up in frustrated annoyance, wincing as the move pulled her bad shoulder. She could feel the joint shift unnaturally, bone grating against nerves.Ow.
"Don't suppose I've got my own room somewhere, then?" she asked doubtfully but with a small piece of hope that she could get away from his overshadowing presence.
"You have a bed in the medical bay until Ratchet clears you." Ohof course. So her choices were a self-imposed chaperone or a grouchy medic.
A piece of dark fabric dropped in front of her face; she frowned at it in confusion. The other end was trapped between Prowl's fingers. Christ he had a long reach. "He also orders your continued use of the sling for the next seven to ten days."
Darcy scowled at the offending arm sling she'd abandoned several hours ago, snatching it when it became evident he wasn't going to move away from her until she took it.
The bright blue of his 'eyes' dimmed slightly and she had the distinct impression he was no longer paying direct attention to her. That was...interesting. And an opportunity she wasn't going to waste, immediately stepping through a human-sized door and closing it behind her.
"Detective, that is not the way to the medical bay," his voice came through easily and she had little doubt the wall would be capable of holding him back if he really wanted to reach for her.
Feeling bolder by the minor barrier, she decided to press her luck and walked away. His projector was broken after all, and the Autobotsseemedless prone to rampant destruction on a whim. Prowl had had many opportunities to be rid of her already and he hadn't taken them, there stood a chance he wouldn't now. She mentally winced as she realized just how much of a pain she'd probably been to him since she first attempted to call the FBI, and yet he'd made no move to even try intimidating her with his alien-ness.
Blowing out a breath, Darcy told herself that the Autobots were the good guys. They had rescued them, risked life and limb to get them out of those caves instead of just blowing it from a safe distance. They partnered with humans, willingly went on missions with them in tow. The Non-biological Extraterrestrial Species Treaty was a partnership between them and humanity against any global threats. She didn't need to be afraid here. So many humans wouldn't be relaxed around them if there was a threat of getting squished.
But they werealien robots. All that separated them from the others was a moral philosophy. Just how deep did that belief go?
Deep enough for war. Damn it all, it wasn't that different from people. If only she could get that to settle in her mind. If only her body listened so easily to reason.
If only she knew where the bloody hell she was in this maze of a base. Running from Prowl had really not been thought through. She had no idea where she was relative to anything and her only company was her own thoughts. At the moment she couldn't decide which companion was worse.
The small hall ended at another door that led into-surprise, surprise-another alien-sized corridor. Seriously what did they move through this dam that had required building hallways so dang large before they knew the existence of aliens?
"There's my fellow medic-evadist!" Jumping out of her thoughts and her skin, Darcy nearly tripped over herself turning to face the too-excited voice that echoed in the otherwise quiet base.
She let out a breath. If it had to be an alien, at least it was this one. "Medic evadist?"
Jazz chuckled, stepping towards her easily, halting a respectful distance away. Gods she appreciated him. "The 'ole Hatchet's been after meh for another 'observation'. I think 'e just likes pokin' around in my circuits."
It took her a second to translate what that could possibly mean. Apparently the faux Porsche disliked doctor visits as much as she did and Ratchet's gruff bedside manner was not reserved just for the humans. That was….comforting, in a morbid way.
For a moment his visor dimmed just like Prowl's eyes had and he spoke with the same amount of cheer she was beginning to suspect was his default mode. "Found 'er, Prowlers."
She glanced around for the black and white, frowning at seeing no one. Who was he talking to? She wasn't making acquaintances with the crazy one, was she? Because that would totally be her luck.
Jazz grinned, tapping his head. "Comm links. Like a phone in our 'ead."
A slight burst of static and it was Prowl's voice coming from the smaller Autobot, only slightly distorted as if he were coming through a radio….or a phone. "...atchet requires her immediate return to rectify her missed medications and dietary supplements…'
Darcy winced as Jazz cut the voice out. Oops. She'd quite literally gone and not done a single one of the things Ratchet had demanded as conditions of her leaving his medbay. As convenient as those comm links must be over long distance or in a fight, she could see them becoming a pain while she was here. How could she possibly get away if any of them could alertallof them instantaneously?
Jazz laughed again as his visor brightened. Was that the physical signal of using those comms then? "Don't worry 'bout Ratch, he barks a lot but saves the bites for the twins."
Yeah she wasn't going to touchthatone. "I suppose I don't have much of a choice on going, do I?"
Jazz let out an almost dramatic sigh that she felt blow across her face, as if it had come through car vents. Well, hewasa robotic alien that turned into a car. Maybe she wasn't that far off. "Better we face 'im sooner rather than later. 'e's got practice trackin' wayward patients."
Probably with those twins he mentioned, and maybe even himself. At least she wouldn't have to face the doctor totally alone if he was evading as well.
"Walk or ride, Baby Girl?" Darcy barely withheld the urge to roll her eyes and silently prayed that he wouldn't make a habit of the nickname. The military liked callsigns too much forthatto be going around.
"I'll walk, thanks," she answered dryly, gesturing for him to lead the way. "The hall is hardly a road."
He chuckled, half his visor winking in and out. Was that….was that anactualwink? "Anythin's a road if ya got the stones for it."
Eyeing the sharp corners, she knew theoretically it was wide enough. He'd done it earlier after all when walking with her. Somehow she didn't think she could count on an Autobot that was sometimes a Porsche to keep his speed down if she actually dared get in. "I think I'll choose life."
Jazz placed a dramatic hand over his chest, where a heart would be on a human. Did they even have hearts? Or...err...something equivalent? "I'll have ya know I'm 'nexcellentdriver. I would neva crash!"
"Even so." He kept on an easy smile that she was unaccustomed to seeing. For a robotic face, they were surprisingly expressive. She could almost be impressed that it was possible to discern the difference between his smile and the psychotic grin of Wild Rider. Again she wondered just how easy it was for them to fake. They were robots, or something. Some of them were clearly unaffected by emotions, or were they all, and more simply chose to fake it?
Knowledge was power against something so much larger and stronger and right now she was weak. There had been a very brief rundown during the meeting earlier, but frankly she'd been too focused on being outnumbered and surrounded to remember much.
"Jazz, can I ask you a question?" she finally spit out before she could chicken out. She'd rather ask a human what they knew, but that would all be second hand. She knew the value of getting intel straight from the source.
"I aim ta please, so fire away," he replied immediately, his steps slowing marginally. Darcy noted it was putting him more level with her instead of ahead. Like he was doing earlier as a car, slowly eeking his way closer and closer. Narrowing her eyes, she realized he was trying to work her into being okay being close to him.
Damn, he was good.
Her question changed at the last moment. "What is your role in all of this?"
"Before the war I was part o' the Security Forces under Prowler. Guess ya could say I was our version o' a detective." She blinked up at him. Huh, go figure. She actually had something in common with a giant robotic alien. Technically withtwo, given Prowl had been a part of it as well. Or their version of the Chief or something, which fit given his propensity for giving orders and expecting them to be blindly followed. Darcy couldn't help but mentally wince. If she had followed his orders, then she never would have been caught up in this mess. The bitter taste on her tongue alerted her to the fact that she would probably need to apologize for laying into him earlier. Easier said than done. Just because he was right didn't mean he had to be such a dick about it. Jazz continued breezily, "Now I'm head o' SpecOps. Master o' sabotage and sick beats."
The detective raised her brows. "Sick beats, huh?"
Immediately he started pumping out some hip hop song she didn't recognize, the music twisting and jumping seamlessly to parts of other songs she did recognize. She raised her hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. Next time I throw a rave I'll be sure to hire you for DJ."
The music cut off as he gave a laughing affirmative nod. "I think I'm Second Lieutenant now? I was First but Prowlers took tha' when I died and I doubt he'll be givin' it back."
His visor flashed in a wink again and Darcy snorted until she really processed what he said. She jolted to a stop, her neck cracking as she whipped around to look up at him. "Wait, youdied?"
Good lord, did these things actually not die for good? Or just certain ones? She remembered the body in the caves and the pieces of others Knock Out used as spare parts, so she'd assumed dead was dead for them as much as it was humans.
Jazz paused as well, raising his arm to sheepishly rub the back of his head. "You prob'ly weren't suppose' to know that."
Dropping his arm, he shrugged carelessly. "Ah well. There was a fragment of the artefact that brough' us here with a bit 'o power left to it. Ratch' fixed meh up and used it to restart ma spark."
His fist thudded against his chest, right over where a heart should be. So, they called it a spark...or something. Darcy's brows scrunched at the can of worms that had just been opened. Now shedefinitelyhad more questions. Rubbing her brow, she looked up at Jazz in disbelief. "At some point you're gonna have to break that story down becausewhat?"
He grinned widely, gesturing towards the empty corridor ahead of them. "The Hatchet ain't lookin' for us yet."
Darcy hadn't expected him to be willing to jump into the whole story right away, but apparently Jazz wasn't one to turn away a captive audience. So she could only nod dumbly as he launched into a tale that started millenia ago-seriously how long did these things live, did they even die of old age?-and unintentionally entangled with Earth several generations ago, but only truly became an active interaction after a teenager posted a pair of glasses on ebay.
Seriously, this was almost too ridiculous to be anything but the truth.
Another planet across the galaxy where all life was robotic, but itwaslife. Complex life with long histories and individual personalities, of work forces and social classes, subjugation and uprisings, war. What started as a minor conflict, remote battles, victories that didn't bother anyone much. Until the battle was on everyone's front door; until they were forced to choose a side and take up arms. A fight that raged on for too long, until few remembered what they were supposed to be fighting for anymore; a fight that destroyed cities, continents, their home. A desperate launch, the last hope for a dying planet sent out among the stars only to crash onto a little blue world. The first round of Autobots and Decepticons, a battle in Mission City that had been blamed on malfunctioning experimental technology. Offlining-dying-at Megatron's hands to buy time for the human soldiers to retreat. That was a few years ago, more waves from both sides had been arriving steadily. With their leader dead, the Decepticons had been quiet and unorganized, popping up here and there for small skirmishes but otherwise avoiding conflict. Until she tried calling the FBI and helped Prowl figure out they'd been secretly abducting the extended families of NEST personnel. None of them had expected Starscream to be able to rally the 'Cons under his command. But now they knew, now they could be prepared. The tiny fragment of the Allspark had succeeded in bringing him back and a little human detective had delivered them a resounding victory against the 'Cons.
"Moral's neva been higha!" Jazz finished brightly and with a dramatic flourish of his hands. Hands that could transform into a massive magnet, a grappling hook, or their version of guns, all of which he gladly showed her when he went off on a side tale of the variety in their weapons that depended on their specialties, which in turn was heavily influenced by the frames and programming that were granted them when they were created. By a deity or the Allspark or some 'well', she wasn't clear. He'd lost her on that one but had just kept on going so she didn't try to dwell on it too long.
"Well, 'cept maybe for Ratch' now that the twins are togetha an' tryin' jet judo again."
"Dare I ask what jet judo is?" Darcy raised a brow with an upwards tug of her lip.
"The bane of my existence," Ratchet cut over whatever no doubt detailed explanation Jazz was about to grant her. She stiffened, backtracking a step at finding him blocking their path with large arms crossed over his chest. He made Jazz look small and she knew he wasn't even the biggest of them. "As are patients I have to track down."
She winced, shifting closer to Jazz so she wasn't such an open target as the saboteur waved a dismissive hand, not sounding at all apologetic. "Sorry 'bout that Ratch'. My fault."
"The detective I can forgive. I commedyouthree times." For a being that didn't actually possess eyebrows, it looked impressively like he was raising them, waiting for whatever brilliant excuse the smaller Autobot could come up with.
Jazz shrugged, utterly relaxed under the rather fierce stare of the medic. "I was tellin' 'er 'bout us."
"So I heard. Things I am quite certain Prowl did not clear her to know." As much as she was growing to like Jazz, Darcy was damn glad Ratchet was focusing his attention on him instead of her. The alien doctor released a venting sigh before turning on his heel, gesturing for them to follow. Darcy obediently started forward with a sheepish look at Jazz. She didn't intend to get him into trouble by asking questions. Jazz, for his part, smiled unabashedly, his visor winking at her as Ratchet's voice reached back. "You are fortunate I do not always agree with Prowl's assessments."
Darcy blinked at the medic's yellow-green back as Jazz barked a laugh. Well,thatwas unexpected.
"Ms. Blake, I may be in a forgiving mood for now, but so help me if you do not get that sling back on…" he let the threat hang in the air and Darcy was quick to obey, silently grumbling and unwilling to concede that her shoulder did hurt less being supported.
Chapter 18: Wreckage
Chapter Text
It is our suffering that brings us together. It is not love. Love does not obey the mind, and turns to hate when forced. The bond that binds us is beyond choice. We are brothers. We are brothers in what we share. In pain, which each of us must suffer alone, in hunger, in poverty, in hope, we know our brotherhood. ~Ursula K. Le Guin
Darcy elected to take the stairs up to the elevated human section of the medbay, returning to the bed she'd left that morning. The dripping IV stand and rumbled sheets were gone, replaced by clean bedding and the bottle of medication she hadn't bothered to touch. There was also a covered tray on the table with the medication and a ridiculously tall glass of water.
Ratchet pointed a massive metal digit at the tray. "Do not think I am unaware that you did not eat today. Empty the plate and the glass and I may consider not insisting on another IV. I will check on you when I finish with the other miscreant."
He turned, bright blue eyes narrowing sharply at a part of the room she couldn't see. This time his voice really did growl. "Jazz, plant your aft back on that berth before I weld you to it."
A clang and a huff were the only indication that the silver Autobot had abandoned his attempted escape.
Deciding she wasn't particularly interested in pushing the medic any further, Darcy sat on the bed and pulled the cover off of the tray. Sweet mercy there was a lot of food! There was no way she could eat that much! She didn't eat that much when she was healthy, damn it. Granted, she hadn't been that great about eating regularly anyway, but still. Her brows pinched together as she noted that hadn't been entirely true when it came to the weeks leading up to her abduction. Lennox had been like clockwork when it came to organizing breaks for meals and even Row-Prowl-had made comments until she'd gotten annoyed enough to go eat something. They'd almost managed to work her into a halfway healthy routine before she was taken. It felt like a lifetime ago.
Sucking in a breath, Darcy started in, knowing she would be better off doing as ordered for now. The faster she healed, the faster she could leave all of this behind.
"Come on 'Hatch, this is unnecessary!" Jazz's voice whined from out of sight.
"I agreed to clear you for the base raid provided you accepted a full diagnostic stasis scan. You put it off for three days. Now shut up and go into recharge," Ratchet rumbled back.
Another huff. "He's knockin' me out, Darce, so I'll catch ya on the flip!"
She was seriously beginning to wonder if anything really dampened his mood for more than half a second. And if he was capable of calling anyone by their actual name. Shaking her head in amusement, she called back, "Goodnight, Jazz.".
Darcy tried not to let her mind wander to what could be going on that matched the muted sounds that reached her from where Ratchet was working on Jazz. A stasis scan didn't soundtoobad, but then there was still so much about their basic functions that she didn't know. Rather than let her mind take a trip down that particular rabbit hole, she replaced the conversation she'd had with him before they were found by the medic. Or rather, the story he'd told her about his planet and the background of the Autobot and Decepticon conflict. He'd certainly given her enough to stew over for quite some time, more than enough to cover how long it took her to finally clear the plate and empty the glass.
Her stomach felt damn near to bursting as she finished the last of the water with the handful of pills she'd been prescribed. She did feel marginally better already, though a hundred times more tired. Ratchet better speed it along if he wanted a conscious patient. Fighting a wince, she forced herself to sit up straighter.Shedidn't want to be an unconscious patient.
Luckily whatever he was doing with Jazz finished or paused, as he stepped back into view. Muscles tensed and her gut twisted uncomfortably at suddenly being his sole focus. He did not act as if he noticed.
"You should rest as well."
"I slept already today." Nevermind the fact she felt like she could sleep another eight hours. That food was hittinghard. Like Thanksgiving turkey-coma hard.
A chuffing sound escaped him that was probably a snort. "Four hours in a chair is hardlyrest."
She frowned, brows scrunching together. Damn comms. "Prowl?"
Of course he would tattle to the medic.
"Hound. He kept an optic on you until Prowl came to retrieve you." The blue light shot from his arm, running over her skin like a ghostly itch. Darcy scowled lightly, crossing her arms over her chest. She didn't remember the green Autobot that must be Hound being there the first time she woke up, but then she hadn't really looked around much before fading out again.
"I don't need babysitters," she bit, emboldened by the tick of frustration at his scanning her without warning and assigning her chaperones.
"And yet, until I order otherwise, you'll have them," Ratchet replied easily, looking down at some sort of screen on his forearm. "Rest, Ms. Blake, you need it."
He moved away, the lights dimming a moment later. After the brightness of the standard medical lighting and his scanners, the darkness was completely blinding.
Grumbling about know-it-all doctors, Darcy crawled under the thin medical blankets. She was out before she could finish rolling to her side.
She woke in Starscream's grasp, the room bathed in the red glow of his eyes. Screaming, she tried to scramble out of his clawed hand. He cackled as he clenched tight around her, cutting off her air. Knock Out appeared at his side, visor burning bright, the wicked needle he'd stabbed her with once before out and ready to go. She struggled, gasping for breath, fighting with everything she had to keep that needle away from her skin. Knock Out tsked her as he forcibly grabbed her arm, jabbing the needle deep. Where were the Autobots? Where were Ratchet and Jazz? Where was Prowl? Where was anyone?
The sedative in the syringe acted quickly, dragging her back to oblivion.
Bright lights met her the second time around, muffled voices drawing her into consciousness. They were too far away, too low for her to make out as her mind struggled to fight off the drugs in her system.
She shot up, feeling a tug on her arm and ripping out the line before looking around. It was the medbay at the dam.
"Do you have a personal vendetta against intravenous medication?" Bolting back on the bed, Darcy whacked her head on the wall, sending stars to dance across her vision. Swearing roughly, her hands wrapped around her abused skull. "I would advise against doing that again."
She blinked up at the dry tone of Ratchet, who stood in front of her in all his robotic glory. No Starscream, no Knock Out, no sign they were ever there. Her forearm where Knock Out had implanted the tracking chip was still wrapped up tight, no sign it had been punctured. Just a spot of blood at her elbow where she'd ripped the IV out...again.
A dream, it had just been a dream. A terrifyingly real feeling dream, but no less the makings of her own mind.
"Ms. Blake?" Ratchet was frowning at her, the blue light of his scanner sweeping over her. Whatever readings came up made the frown deepen. "Your heart rate is elevated. Bad dreams?"
"Not that I remember." The lie fell easily from her lips as she busied herself with sitting up and rubbing her head. She scowled at the knots in her hair. Someone had cleaned her up when they brought her in-a thought she was definitelynotgoing to think on for too long-but Starscream's grip had left a phantom residue she swore she could feel. Scrubbing a layer of skin off sounded as divine as it didhuman. "Any chance there's a shower and a change of clothes around here?"
The medic was still watching her carefully and he took several moments to do so before blasting off a vent of air. "After you take your medications and eat, Jazz will escort you to your assigned quarters."
"I can find my way, there's no need to trouble Jazz with babysitting duty." Jazz was the best of them, kind and small, but damn it all she wanted five minutes without an alien watching her.
"I don't recall asking for your medical advice," Ratchet snapped back and Darcy clamped her mouth shut. Right then, no arguing with the alien doctor.
Breakfast at least was lighter than dinner, if a little stronger on the protein. Finishing it was no easier on her stomach, but she forced it and the required medication down under Ratchet's heavy gaze. Only then did he clear her to officially move out of his medbay and to her temporary housing by the barracks. The sling on her arm itched, but the sharp look the medic sent her whenever she touched it kept her from messing with it...for now.
Jazz met her at the door in his shiny silver Porsche mode, Shemar Moore sitting on the hood with a cup of coffee she sorely hoped was real.
"Please tell me there's a coffee machine somewhere in this joint," she groaned once Ratchet had turned his attention to something else. For whatever reason, the alien held a remarkable level of disdain for caffeine in reasonable quantities. Tea just didn't cut it.
Jazz's holoform grinned, holding out the steaming cup to her. The heat and the aroma were quite real and the taste well worth the scalding it gave her tongue when she took a long pull from it. The first coffee she'd had since being taken and it was the best damn thing she'd ever had cross her lips. "Bless you, Jazz."
He chuckled with a shake of his head, the car rolling along beside her as she walked. "Happy ta be o' service."
Her skin pricked under subtle scrutinization, but Jazz said nothing, leading her in almost comfortable silence. It seemed a little out of place for the alien to be so quiet; perhaps his sleep...recharge...was not as restful as it might have been. Did a living computer dream, or were they incapable of reliving a memory as it didn't happen?
Unbidden, the image of Knock Out from her dream came to the forefront, burning the glowing red visor in her mind before she could push it away. The actual Decepticon didn't evenhavea visor. There was only one she'd seen so far that had it, but now her mind had linked the damn thing to fear.
At least Jazz was in car mode for now. She didn't need the questions or pitying glances that might come if she started flinching from him.
The walk to the barracks went quickly, Darcy raising her brows as Jazz gestured with a flourish at the door, his body stuck a few halls down. Holoform range was at least fifty yards then.
Stepping through the door, she was surprised to reveal what was basically a studio apartment. She'd expected a single bedmaybeto herself. Certainly not her own bathroom and small kitchenette.
Jazz apparently recognized her confusion and grinned as he walked into the room, spinning to drop easily on the loveseat. "What? Thought we'd stick ya with the rest o' the grunts?"
"Um, yes?" This had to be a mistake. Jazz was screwing with her or something.
"Tsk, we may still be in construction, bu' we treat the VIPs betta than tha'."
"I'm hardly a VIP." She frowned, noting a familiar looking duffel sitting on the bed.Herduffel that usually acted as her go-bag whenever cases kept her from home for too long.
Jazz's holoform shrugged. "Perks o' havin' Prowls for a Guardian. Puts ya a bit above most visitors."
Her feet froze to the ground, the coffee cup pausing on its way to her lips. "Prowl is mywhat?"
A somewhat bloody important sounding tidbit Jazz had very conveniently forgotten to mention when telling her about them yesterday. Whatever the hell being a 'guardian' meant sounded a hell of a lot more permanent and long-term than Darcy was even wanting to entertain the idea of considering. Sure the Decepticons had thrown the term around a time or two, but that had been their own assumptions, it hadn'tmeantanything. Not like it did coming from an Autobot's mouth.
Jazz raised his hands in peaceful surrender. "As far as NEST tops know. Makes it easier fo' us to take care of ya."
She stiffened. She didn't want them totake careof her. Forcing out a breath, she mentally talked herself down. It was just a lie to deal with bureaucrats and keep them from attempting to sweep in. In no way was it actually true. It only meant that it was the Autobots she'd have to convince into taking her home and leaving her be. A feat she wasn't entirely positive was possible right now, but the time would come. Prowl would be the easiest to talk into it; he'd wanted her gone long before she'd ever gotten taken after all, no doubt he would fully support her leaving now.
"Right, well...thanks again for the coffee, but if you don't mind...I'd really love to take that shower now."
Jazz nodded, standing. "One mo' thing."
Pulling out what looked like a phone, he set it on the little nightstand by the bed. "So ya can find us if ya need ta, or if ya just wanna chat."
Right, the tracking in it definitely worked in reverse too. No way was she taking that thing anywhere. She nodded anyway, knowing she'd never use it for its other purpose either.
Come to think of it, she'd need a new phone as soon as she was out of here. Barricade had rather thoroughly trashed hers.
Setting the empty coffee cup aside, Darcy realized she had a rather long to-do list once she was out of here. It would be dealt with when the time came, for now, she had a shower calling her name.
It was the first time since waking that she was truly alone. No Autobots, no humans, no chances of someone coming across her in some hallway. She was alone and as she stepped under the spray the fragile ribbons holding her together began to snap.
Generic soaps rasped against her skin like sandpaper, taking off a layer skin with every forceful scrub. A layer for the grime of the caves, a layer for the coating of hateful stares, a layer for the blood on her hands, a layer for every touch, for every feeling she wanted to forget. The cut where Knock Out's chip had been removed dripped crimson from the shredded scab.
A sob wrenched from her throat as she watched red drip to the floor, watched the water spread it around before pulling it to the drain. So much blood, so much senseless violence, somuch.
The tile bit her knees. Her throat constricted around every gasping breath. Scalding water cascaded over her shaking shoulders. The last ribbon snapped, releasing heaving sobs that could no longer be reined in. Darcy did not try to. She let herself sob for the lives destroyed, for the tortured and tormented. She let herself cry for herself.
Blood and tears flooded down the drain, but pain was not so easily washed away.
Jazz vented as he walked down the hall, no real destination in mind. His processor was wandering, namely around the little brunette femme he'd left behind to bathe. There was certainly a spark of fierce determination that had driven Prowl so bonkers in there, but it was buried under a mountain of trauma that was going to haunt her for a long time. She was working on accepting his presence, but even he got to her at times. He wanted to help, but she was going to heal more to start with someone she actually trusted. Even if neither of them were aware of the extent of that trust right now.
Pivoting, Jazz turned to saunter towards Prowl's office. It was time for some meddling, because his old friend was going to need all the help he could get.
"What do you mean no one is here!? The trackers are still active you blind, fragging idiot!" Starscream lashed out, clawed fingertips raking Skywarp's left wing. The seeker attempted to backpedal away from the Decepticon leader, only to find himself blocked by the smoking rubble pile.
Once it had been a large construct of bunkers and underground tunnels. Once it had been the Autobot base. A heavy barrage of missiles had reduced it to nothing. A solid and swift victory. The humans had never had time to flee for themselves.
Now they were saying there was never anyone there to begin with. No humans, no Autobots, no living things except for a few roasted lizards. A pair of which Skywarp held in his servos, charred skin peeled back to reveal the hidden trackers Knock Out had supposedly implanted inhumans.
Thundercracker landed nearby, a small box pinched between his digits, knowing he needed to hand it over but loathe to do so. He could guess what kind of message would be on it and the repercussions that would follow. But there was no hiding in a trine bond, which meant better to get it over with before the others started gathering. It was always worse with an audience, especially now that a number had been buried in the old base by the Autobots, including three of the five Stunticons. Starscream would be looking to save face.
"This was left behind for you." Thundercracker passed the box to his leader, electing to not comment on the crude drawing that had been with it that indicated it was for him specifically. Nowthathe had destroyed.
"Tck, Sunny and I had a bet," Sideswipe's voice, of all mechs, happily chirped through the recording. "He thought you had the few wits necessary to knownotto go for the easy attack right after we handed you your afts, but I know you 'Screamer. I have much more faith in you that you'd do something that dumb. The humans have been wanting to demo this place for ages but, ah, funding, you know? I trust you leveled it well, so we all thank you for your service, Screamie."
He broke off laughing, the recording cutting abruptly as the box was crushed to pieces in Starscream's grip.
Thundercracker barely had time to shut off the main pain receptors before Starscream latched onto his chassis and slammed a clawed fist into his face. Again and again and again, each blow sending a spark of pain through the bond that couldn't be turned off or ignored. It was a pain the leader could feel as well and it only enraged him further, pushed him to increase the strikes and the force behind them. Trines were never meant to injure each other, but Starscream always saw it as a limit to his power and control. He hated it. He hated the reminder of it. Most of all he hated that he relied on it.
Skywarp flinched away, dropping the dead lizards and turning away from the incoming Decepticons. Starscream would turn on him if he caught him cringing over his spark chamber which pounded with every strike against their trine-mate. It wasn't right, but there was no stopping it. Not now that Barricade and Breakdown were rumbling closer, not now that Soundwave could see.
Thundercracker didn't raise a hand to defend himself, even as his left optic flared brightly before going dark. No one raised a hand, they just watched until Starscream felt he had recovered himself in front of them well enough and let the blue jet drop to the ground with a sneer.
"Back to the Nemesis, the lot of you!" he roared, snapping into his alternate mode and blasting into the sky. The grounders were quick to drop into their chosen vehicles and disappear into a cloud of dust, escaping the dirt more than a desire to follow orders.
Skywarp waited until everyone else had left before daring to approach his fallen trinemate, wrapping an arm around to hoist him off the ground. Neither said a word as the air warped around them, a crackling boom going unnoticed by the empty canyon.
Knock Out growled as they appeared in his medbay on the Nemesis, as annoyed by the interruption to his buffing as he was by the fact that the room was already half taken over by the mech he'd been entirely unaware was even there before their mountain base had been destroyed.
"Now what?" he snapped, looking over Thundercracker before motioning to the only empty berth. "You know, until we actually start scrapping some Autobots, I don't have that many optics to replace what you lot keep destroying."
"Just do what you can, Knock Out," Thundercracker rumbled tiredly, dropping onto the available space with a pained grunt. Even with Starscream some distance away, the bond ached at the abuse it had taken.
As the red car set about repairing the damage to his frame, the blue seeker eyed the large covering that split the room in two and hid the other patient from view. He didn't know who it was or why the secrecy, nor did he particularly care to ask.
He just wanted this all to beover. He wanted to fly and explore and not get shot at, he wanted to celebrate something other than death. He wanted to do somethinggoodagain, that felt like it helped the lives of the Cybertronians left.
Most of all, he was just tired.
Darcy stayed too long in the shower, until she'd cried herself out and then some. Her skin red and raw from the scrubbing and heat of the water yet feeling no cleaner than when she had stepped in.
She was due to take her medications from Ratchet again, but tracking down where the bottle had fallen when she'd tossed it from her pocket sounded exhausting. She had to have slept for a decent number of hours last night, but after such a breakdown, all she wanted to do was go back to sleep. Since she wasn't expected anywhere, that was exactly what she did.
She woke up screaming, covered in a layer of sweat, Shockwave's lab burning behind her eyes.
Chest heaving, she rubbed her damp eyes and tried to focus on the memory of the rescue, of the medbay. She was in a real bed, in a room on the Autobot base. No Decepticons were here. She was safe.
And more weary than when she'd laid down. Swinging her legs over the edge, she gave up on the idea of trying again.
After putting on a fresh set of her own clothing, she stood by the door, unsure. She didn't want to be around the Autobots, didn't want to be around anyone really, but her skin crawled being alone in that room. She glanced at the phone Jazz had left for her. Shecoulduse it as a way to avoid any of them and perhaps it even had a map of this place. Of course they could always trackherby it, but if she saw them coming, she'd have time to move on.
Grumbling to herself, she snatched it off the nightstand. There were no buttons on it, just a small screen and a fingerprint reader. Scowling, she pressed her thumb against it. There wasno waythey'd set that...okay, apparently theyhadgotten her fingerprints down and input in the phone...thing. It flashed to light at her touch, revealing the home screen of any smartphone. Only a few icons were present, but the background was completely overtaken by the smiling face of Jazz's holoform. An icon was even expressly labeled 'Call Jazzinator' and was in the shape of a silver Porsche. Skipping over it and the contacts icon, she selected the Autobot symbol cheerfully labeled as 'Find my Friends'.
It wasn't a well detailed map, but it could be enough to somewhat navigate the base. Only four blue dots showed up, Jazz, Ratchet, Prowl, and Optimus. She doubted that somehow everyone else had cleared out, which meant she'd only be able to know where those four were at any given time. Not ideal for avoiding all aliens, but it was a start.
Using the map, she turned left, hoping to find the kitchen or dining area. Food sounded entirely unappealing, but another cup of coffee was calling her name. If she wasn't going to be getting much sleep, then she was going to be needing a lot of it.
Turned out it wasn't too far from the rec room, which wasn't all that hard to get to from her room. Six coffee machines lined a wall, indicating she was far from the first caffeine-addicted human to have stayed here. Thank God.
Filling the tallest cup she could find, she took at a seat at an empty table. This dining hall was solely human sized, no aliens unless they were using holoforms. No celebrity faces mixed among the soldiers, so she counted herself safe for now.
According to the phone, Prowl was pacing in front of Ratchet, Optimus hadn't moved from where she was sure was the conference room she'd been in yesterday, and Jazz….Jazz was headed this way.
It was definitely coincidence. No way he was looking for her, an insignificant human among a hundred. He could just be passing by, he could be looking for someone else.
She still felt her heart rate spike and stood slowly, moving in a forced relaxed manner to the opposite door. No one would notice her departure, and there were now many hallways between her and the Porsche.
Looking down at the cup in her hand, she cursed her own cowardice. Jazz had been nothing but kind and gentle, offering stories or silence when she needed it, brought her coffee for pits sake, and here she was avoiding him because he was an alien.
Shoving the phone in her pocket, she buried the guilt and kept walking.
Eventually she ended up in the rec room again. Only a few soldiers were enjoying their lunch there, plates of food balanced precariously on a knee as they gestured dramatically through whatever story they were telling the large red Autobot sitting behind them.
She winced at the glare of the color.
No, this was Mirage. He was one of the good guys. He'd led them out of those caves, helped them escape
All she had to do was suck in a breath and take a seat in one of the empty chairs; he wouldn't talk to her, he hadn't even looked at her.
She turned on her heel and walked back out.
There was nowhere to go, no way outside that she had found yet, and nothing in her room but empty walls and silence. No case to work on, no mine to dig, no job to do, not a thing to distract her from the thoughts or the Autobots she couldn't get away from.
Letting out a strangled frustrated sound, she set herself to finding the nearest unaccompanied human to ask for directions. If they couldn't or wouldn't point her towards a door, then therehadto be some sort of gym around here. Her head may be screwed to hell but at least she could start rebuilding her body again.
The soldier she did find gave her a confused look when she asked about the door and didn't seem sure how to answer, but he did point her in the direction of the workout room. It didn't host many machines, mostly free weights and even the majority of those were obviously created by welding together pieces of scrap metal from the construction projects. Crude but effective. The room was empty of living beings.
Deciding not to squander her good fortune, Darcy slipped back to her room to change, thankful her go-bag always had a pair of sweats in them just in case. The mock weight room was right at the front of the barracks and so just down the hall from her room; inaccessible to the aliens.
She paused as she returned in proper clothing, wondering if this was really such a good idea. Ratchet had been very clear about keeping her arm immobile until he cleared her for 'specific' exercises to build it back up and the rest of her body was hardly in any better shape.
It wasn't like she could think of anything else to do though and just maybe the physical work would help her sleep without dreams.
That was the hope anyway.
Careful to keep her left arm as uninvolved as possible, she started through a series of simple arm and core reps. The usual weights were too heavy, her flexibility and core strength shot. She scowled as her right arm failed to complete the tenth rep of a simple side raise, the weight slipping through numb fingers. Weeks she spent swinging a hammer in the Decepticon mine, and now she couldn't even get through one workout routine?
Growling, she chanced a glance at the clock on the wall. Not even half an hour. There had to be a treadmill or a track orsomethingaround. Surely she could at least stilljog.
Tucked in the far corner where the lighting was poor, a lone treadmill sat, as if shoved in as an afterthought and not touched since. Clearly it'd been purchased used and no doubt at its previous address it'd been used more as a coat hanger than exercise equipment. Not that Darcy blamed whoever used to own this thing. She wasn't a fan of treadmills or jogging anymore than most people. Right now, though, it might damn well be the only thing she was capable of doing.
Ten minutes was all it took to prove that she was wrong in that too. Slower, weaker, and no stamina. She hung her head as she walked back to her room, needing another shower. It was going to be a long road to getting back to police standards.
Shaking her head, she knew that she couldn't dwell on how long it was going to take, only that the first step had been taken. Move forward, keep moving forward.
If only her head could listen to such advice about other things.
The second shower she kept short and decided afterward that the best way to keep Ratchet away was to do as he instructed. Scrounging around the room revealed the corner the medical bottle had fallen. Taking the prescribed number of pills, she set the bottle on the nightstand for later. Actual food was next on the list and definitely another cup of coffee.
If she didn't look at the clocks, it was impossible to know what time of day it was. In all her wanderings she'd only found a handful of windows that looked out onto the dam or the river below, offering very little natural light throughout the place. How did these people handle not seeing the sun? Or was she simply the only who hadn't found a damn door? No one had said she wasn't allowed topside and yet anyone she asked avoided giving her a direct answer outside of the hangar door she'd seen Ironhide drive out of. Butthatdoor was definitely not about to open at her whim.
She'd tried.
So for two days she spent her time in the mess hall, the gym, her room, or wandering the corridors while attempting to avoid any and all aliens. It worked, for the most part. Other than an occasional 'hello', the Autobots she did come across paid her no mind and were utterly unfamiliar. It all occupied her mind as well as watching grass grow, but her racing heart always drove her to escape whatever alien she'd come across.
At night she did whatever she could to avoid sleep. She paced and jogged empty corridors, wrote notes of everything she knew of Cybertronians thus far, worked her shoulder through stretches to test its new limits, and dared visit the rec room when it was empty to watch mindless television. The news mentioned nothing of people being murdered, nothing on an explosion in the Cascade mountains, nothing on aliens. It droned on as it always had, offering half details of stories that might make people afraid or angry. They didn't know fear, they didn't know the real threat out there, staring the planet in the face, haunting her sleep. The Decepticons were waiting for her when she closed her eyes, ready to tear her apart, or tear John and Lennox to pieces in front of her, or any of the hundreds of hapless other victims she couldn't save. Sometimes it was the Cons themselves, sometimes they had the features of the Autobots, and sometimes it was the Autobots committing the violence.
She woke screaming every time she let herself fall asleep, so she kept herself awake as long as she could. Maybe, just maybe, if she exhausted herself enough, she might fall into a deep enough sleep to avoid the dreams.
It wasn't working yet, but she couldn't face Barricade carving into John again.
"Detective, you should be in recharge." Darcy jolted, snapping her unseeing gaze from the TVs to the figure in the doorway. Black and white, her heart thudded in her ears.
Prowl, it was just Prowl, not Barricade, not an off-colored Ravage, Prowl.
"I'm, ah, not tired," she forced out, shooting a quick look at the clock, three in the morning, which meant two hours before the mess hall started serving. His face made the motion of raising a brow, drawing her eyes up to the chevron standing starkly out in cherry red. So very different from the pure black of the Mustang.
After a pause, he dipped his chin in apparent acceptance, even if she doubted he actually believed her.
"I thought you might wish to know that Detective Williams and his spouse were safely delivered to their home. There appears to be no Decepticon activity around your town, nor have they revisited their disposal sight." She let out a relieved breath. Regardless she knew John wouldn't stay long before packing up and heading for Florida, but she was grateful to hear the rest of her town was not currently being plagued by the Decepticons.
"Will I be cleared to go home then as well?" It was a stretch and she knew the answer the moment his face shifted into what could have been considered a frown.
"I would still greatly advise against such an action. There is no guarantee that they are not monitoring the town from afar, hoping you might present them another opportunity." There was a note of resignation and she found it odd that she took some comfort in it. At least he seemed to understand her desire to go home, even if he couldn't get her there right now.
But then, he did understand that desire, didn't he? His home, hisplanetwas dead and dark. He couldn't ever go home, he was trapped on an alien world fighting the same fight that had destroyed his world in the first place.
Her problems felt very small in comparison.
"I understand. Thank you, for telling me about John." She wondered if they dreamed and if they did, why kind would haunt their sleep after millennia of war?
Mentally jerking herself from that particular bunny trail, she turned back to the television which was still quietly playing some military show from the 70's. She could practically feel Prowl over her shoulder as he turned to go and hesitated.
"Detective, Ratchet has requested a scan to check your healing progress." She winced lightly, having successfully avoided the medical bay in the last two days. Granted, she had also managed to avoid having a consistent 'chaperone' and she wasn't counting her luck to go so far as the medic not noticing that little fact. She did not look forward to drawing out the alien's ire more than it was already.
"If you would permit," Prowl continued slowly, as if unsure. Darcy blinked back at him in surprise. When had he ever been anything but totally confident? "I have the scanners necessary for such an exam, I can do it now so that you do not have to find your way to the medbay."
Darcy could only stare, shocked more by the offer than his initial hesitance. Of course it madelogicalsense, she reasoned. If he had the equipment to do it and Ratchet wanted results pronto, why not just do it while he was there with her?
As much as she wasn't a fan of the scanning, the chance of not having to face the medic was too tempting to pass up.
"Yeah, I...guess that would be fine," she replied with less confidence than she was hoping. Prowl had scanned her before, it would be fine. Granted he'd been acarat the time, but that was no difference, right?
He nodded once, stepping forward to get an unencumbered view of her. Muscles clenched tight at the vibrations his movement sent through the floor. It's just Prowl, she reminded herself sharply, relax damn it. Last thing she needed was Ratchet thinking something was wrong with her because her scan came back showing she was all clammed up.
Taking several steadying breaths as Prowl messed with something on his forearm-in the same place as Ratchet's scanner, she noted-Darcy managed to slowly get herself to ease the tension of her body. It wasn't a perfect relaxation, but it was the best she could manage.
The blue light danced over her skin, raising the hairs on her arms with its phantom touch. It was just light, nothing was actually touching her, and yet even closing her eyes she swore she could feel it. She hated it and apparently having the right equipment did not mean that it worked as quickly as the medic's, for Prowl took easily twice as long. Her skin itched.
His blue eyes narrowed slightly in her direction and this time the advisement sounded much more like a direct order. "Get some rest, Detective, you need it."
Yeah, right.
She tried, she really did. Once she was so exhausted she walked her bad shoulder into a doorjam and the coffee no longer did anything to keep her eyes open, she went to bed. She slept hard and fast and had a solid two hours before Starscream was there, whipping a cat-like tail back and forth as he stalked her. She ran and ran but could not go anywhere, could not escape the hot breath fanning over her neck, could not get away from his mad laughter as gunfire cut down the invisible faces around her.
Darcy shot up gasping, choking on fear and tears, her legs tangled tightly in the sheets. She struggled out of it, heart pounding as she finally found her feet and turned on the light. Four hours, she'd gotten four hours.
It would be among the best nights she'd get over the coming week.
Jazz tracked her down more than once, offering coffee and stories. She liked him, he was friendly and humorous; good company, provided it was his holoform visiting her and not his towering robotic self. She couldn't get away from Autobots, while most were content to ignore her in favor of their conversations with their other human friends, Prowl seemed intent to find her for a 'scan update' every other day, his orders for sleep gaining severity each time.
She shrugged him off, it wasn't as if he could understand, not really.
It would be better once she was home. They just had tolether go home.
Prowl was still claiming it was too dangerous; her mentor had made it home and made the move south without incident, but he was convinced Barricade would jump on the chance atheragain.
She knew they had history but was itthissevere?
Probably.
Now he was before her again, face pinched as he finished yet another scan in favor to Ratchet.
"This behavior is destructive. You need recharge, Detective," Prowl intoned with a hint of frustration. She swore his doorwings stood a little more rigid on his back than they usually did.
"I said I'm fine. I'm not even tired." She wasn't, not literally anyway. She was dead-on-her-feet exhausted, but if she went a little longer, just a bit more, she stood a better chance of sleeping hard enough to not dream for three hours.
"All of us get the dreams, you cannot avoid them forever and they will not go away if you do not face them." His tone had dropped to a softer pitch. It aggravated her, scraping against worn and fried nerves.
"I'vetoldyou, I don't remember any dreams I might have. I'm just not tired." It was the same excuse she'd passed several times before. She just wished he would leave her alone already, stop pushing and prodding. Turning her back to him, she started for the human sized door that would give her some forced privacy. Thank god his holoform projector had yet to be fixed.
His engine growled. "If you are quite done lying to me."
The accusation in his voice, the bite, it was all too much. She whirled on him with a growl of her own, throwing up her hands in frustrated fury. "What do you want me to say, Prowl? That every time I close my eyes, I see the Cons coming for me? That I hear the screams of people being tortured every night? You want me to tell you all about how Starscream or Barricade kill me over and over, that I wake up terrified? Is that what you wanted to hear?"
Her hands shook as she angrily swiped at escaping tears. Prowl vented softly, the doors on his back dipping. "It will be alright, Darcy."
"How?" She hated that her voice cracked. "How can it be alright when I'm afraid all the time?"
He glanced around with a sigh before his body collapsed in on itself, panels sliding across one another with a hiss until the Charger was before her, driver's door propped open. "Will you go on a drive with me?"
No, absolutely not, she wanted nothing to do with getting in a car that was actually an alien.
But she did want out of the base, to see the sky and breathe fresh air. It wasn't like this was a new Autobot, she'd ridden in this form several times. She'd driven it without asking and he'd let her. Her alternative was to walk away and stay trapped underground until they deemed fit to release her. Cursing her still-racing heart, she slid into the driver's seat, eyeing the door as it clicked softly shut behind her. Immediately the windows dropped down as he started rolling forward.
They exited the base in silence. Relief was almost tangible the moment the fresh breeze hit her face, the rays of the sun soaking into her skin. She didn't touch the pedals or the wheel as they drove, tipping her head back to focus solely on the open air swirling through the windows. It didn't matter where he was taking her, it wasn't as if she'd be able to stop him anyway.
"Take control," his voice jolted her out of her twisting thoughts.
"What?" No way she heard that right.
"Take control," he repeated, relaxing his hold on his wheel. It was an unnatural feeling, but Jazz was right. She was going to need a push.
Darcy was sure he wasn't serious and only tentatively placed her hands on the steering wheel, light enough to not correct as he drifted into another lane. No one was out here on this empty stretch of highway. No one but the semi in the opposite lane, closing the gap fast.
"Prowl," she warned, taking her hands back. What the hell was he doing?
"I do hope you plan to follow your own road laws soon. I do not wish to have to explain to Ratchet exactly why I crashed."
"You're not serious." She eyed the oncoming semi, heart jumping to her throat as it blared its horn. Prowl continued to drift further into the truck's lane.
"I am not Sunstreaker, I do not particularly care if my paint gets scratched." He was letting off the speed now, coasting in the wrong lane straight at what amounted to a battering ram.
"This isn't funny," she growled, checking the doors to see if bailing was an option. The locks were down tight. "Prowl."
It was like he'd checked out completely. The Charger continued rolling as if no one was in control, driven by its own momentum.
"Prowl!" Nothing, the truck was seconds away, laying on its horn.
Darcy slammed her foot on the gas, jerking the wheel harshly to the right. Prowl responded as he had when she'd stolen him after John had been taken, surging forward at her touch, clearing the path of the semi only just in time.
"What thehell, Prowl?" Darcy growled, attempting to rip her hands back now that they were in the clear. A small tingle of an electrical current rippled through her fingers, clamping them firmly down. She couldn't let go.
"Don't bail on me now, Detective. Drive." He was not giving her a choice.
Fine, if he was going to be that way, then she was going to test just how much he didn't mind getting his paint scratched. The more miles she put between her and the dam, the better. Taking the next exit, she cruised through the twisting roads until the blacktop ended and the salt flats were laid out before her, stretching beyond the horizon. Open, unending, not a soul-human or otherwise-for miles, just her and a silent Autobot.
Prowl was powerful. Darcy was painfully attuned to the fact that she wasn't even completely aware of all his strengths and weapons, but in horsepower alone she knew he dwarfed any man-made machinery. He was putting all that power in her control, giving her the literal reins to his body. Reins he could take back at will whenever he wanted, but for now he let the salt and sand fly, let her push him to his maximum speed.
In a normal car it would be suicidal if not downright impossible to go so fast, but the Charger did not even rattle in protest and Prowl didn't apply the brakes. Wind and salt bit at her face, whipping her hair around and partially blinding her. Despite the reckless nature of the drive, it felt….freeing.
As the mountains that were once far in the distance began to loom overhead, Darcy let off the gas, letting Prowl slowly come down to a stop. They were a long way from any roads, from any life larger than a lizard. Salt created a sticky layer over her skin and for once, she couldn't feel Barricade's crushing grip.
"We all struggle to come to terms with events that were beyond our control."
Darcy blinked at the radio for a lack of a better place to look. "What?"
"Your dreams, the fear, it comes from the lack of control you felt with the Decepticons, that you still feel with us." Well wasn't this the perfect plan then? Let her drive them out to the middle of nowhere where there was no way to get away from him and a chat she really didn't want to have.
"I figured that much, thanks," she growled, twisting the wheel and pressing the gas to head back to the pavement. To her surprise, he let her.
"But you are not alone in it. We may not dream the same as humans, but that does not mean we can escape the memories of fear." Darcy found it hard to believe this Autobot had felt that paralyzing, cold terror. What was there to fear when they were as big as they were? As strong? They could be killed, yes, but it took tremendous force. Humans were so very fragile compared to them, an ant to a boot.
"When was the last timeyoufelt fear that stuck to you? When have you ever been out of control?" she snapped, glaring at the speedometer that was now refusing to go above seventy.
He went quiet for a pause, his voice coming out low, as if he wasn't sure of what he was saying himself. "When Barricade had you in his grip and I could do nothing but watch him take you. I was helpless to protect you when you needed me and I cannot scrub that feeling from my memory bank. I have seen the results of Shockwave's experiments and I have been at the mercy of a fusion cannon. Millennia of war does not make it easier to face our moments of greatest weakness, but we must face them to move forward. Your dreams are not going to disappear because you try to sleep as little as possible. You must accept what you had no control over and focus on what you do."
Darcy slouched in the seat, looking at her scarred hands instead of the flats speeding by. "I just want to go home."
"I would not advise such a course, but we will not hold you captive. If home is where you wish to go, I will take you there and you need not hear from us again."
Her heart hammered in her chest. "Really?"
"I cannot promise the Decepticons will not still come for you, Barricade's vendetta runs deep, and I must ask what your plan is. I am aware you lost your position in your department for calling me. Do you intend to continue with law enforcement?"
She blew out a heavy breath. He made an unfortunately good point. Barricade would still be after her even if just out of spite, and she didn't have a job waiting for her. There was nothing waiting for her at home but an empty house. Would she be able to find work in another department? Or had the Chief totally sullied her name?
There was only one thing she actually did know for certain. "I can't imagine doing anything else."
Even if she had to start from the bottom and work her way up again, there was nothing else she wanted to do. She had control over that, at least. People still needed help from worldly dangers and she was capable of handling that.
Air escaped the vents in a sigh. "I suggest a proposition. Stay with us for a month, give us time to understand what the Decepticons are up to and yourself time to process and adjust. Then I will take you home if that is what you wish, with a recommendation from NEST to whatever department you choose and the funding to cover your relocation."
That was...generous. She hadn't expected to be able to leave here with anything but a contract of secrecy. All she had to do was stay for a month, thirty days. It was time to get her head right, to wrangle her sanity back in and get herself sound enough to walk the beat again. She'd already done it for almost a week and a half, what was four more?
"Deal."
"I have one other request."
She raised her brows at the dash. He'd already gotten her to agree to stay for a few weeks, what else was there?
"I want you to be honest about your dreams, Darcy. If not to me then someone on base. They are not going to cease until you face them." She knew he was right, that avoiding them was getting her nowhere, that pretending they didn't happen wasn't going to make it true. But she didn't know if she could face them, or who she could tell them to. Not the NEST soldiers, they were well used to the Cybertronians and had signed on to fight alongside them and against them. John was gone, moving on with his life, and if she was being honest with herself, she didn't want to put it on him. He'd gone through enough and deserved to be left to his recovery. Ironically, of everyone available to her on base, it was Prowl who knew her best.
"I doubt it'll help." She slumped further, noting there was still no sign of the pavement ahead. Just how far out did they come?
"And yet your current course has not been working, has it?" His tone clearly indicated it was a rhetorical question that he definitely knew the answer to.
Blowing out a breath, she conceded that he was right, damn him. "Alright, I'll find...someone to talk to about them."
She didn't know who, certainly not a base shrink. Maybe Ratchet so that he might give her something to help her sleep? Prowl hadn't asked she describe her dreams, only admit to them when they happened. That she could do at least.
They traveled in a silence that for once was comfortable. As they finally hit the pavement again, Darcy glanced around, noting with a wince the layer of salt that now covered every surface of Prowl's interior. "Sorry about the salt."
Probably should have put the windows up before the mad dash over the flats, but she couldn't find it in herself to regret it too much. He rumbled lightly, "I wash just as easily as you."
Chapter 19: I Dreamed a Dream so Twisted and Dark
Chapter Text
All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on. ~Havelock Ellis
Darcy wished she could say that everything was better after the drive with Prowl, but that would have been a lie. The dreams did not disappear or fade, but neither had she found someone to talk to them about. When faced with a none-too-pleased Ratchet, she panicked and couldn't admit to remembering the dreams or that they were the reason she avoided sleep.
In an effort to prevent herself from intentionally avoiding the few who might seek her out, she left the phone in her room. While it did conveniently preventthemfrom tracking her, she was forced to run into them before making an escape.
Jazz made no mention of it when his holo brought coffee to her one morning and ensnared her in easy conversation for well over an hour. Whether Prowl had filled him in or the Autobot was just that observant, Darcy couldn't help but admire and appreciate his patience and kindness.
While he filled the silence between them with colorful and humorous stories, she noted he left plenty of openings for her to unload her dreams without ever specifically bringing them up. Yet not even to him could she admit what haunted her sleep. How could she tell such an unthreatening and cheerful being that it was sometimes his features the Decepticons of her nightmares took on? So she kept quiet despite her deal with Prowl. She would talk about it to someone eventually, just, not yet.
It might help if she had something todowith herself rather than be left to her own devices. Anything, even regular household chores she once abhorred were sounding better and better.
Staring at her kitchen three days after the drive through the desert had her deciding that perhaps it was time she learned to cook properly. Only the small cupboards were utterly barren of all but the cooking utensils themselves.
All she needed was permission to leave the base….and a car to borrow. Hardly a thing to bother Major Lennox about-as if she could track him down in this maze of a base-so she found a Captain to put her request in to.
A part of her doubted the man would really get back to her like he promised and knew that as thechargeof an Autobot, the real commander she should be approaching was Optimus Prime.
Tohellwith that.
She sighed as she read the same story from the newspaper for a sixth time and still had no idea what it said. Catching movement from the corner of her eye, she gave up and dropped the paper as Prowl stepped into the rec room. No doubt she was due for a health check scan again, a suspicion confirmed when he turned towards her instead of the energon dispenser she had no interest in getting near.
Opening her arms in silent agreement, she rolled her hand to gesture for him to get it over with. There was no getting used to the feeling of that blue light rolling along her skin.
"Detective, we had an agreement," Prowl intoned after finishing his scan.
Darcy blew out a breath, tossing loose strands of hair away from her face. "Iknow. I just….I need some normalcy first, damn it. I need something todowith myself before I can...face them."
He made the motion of raising a brow. "Which is why you made the request to leave the base for a...grocery run?"
She shrugged, gesturing back in the vague direction of her little apartment, mentally making a notenotto make requests to the soldiers anymore. They kept going to the Autobot that was her supposedguardiananyway. "I have an entire kitchen and yet I can't even make myself my own cup of coffee."
Prowl's optics shuttered rapidly in what looked a lot like a confused blink. "Why would you need to when coffee and other nutrition is provided in full in the mess hall?"
She was sonotgoing into the nuance in flavors of coffee when prepared en mass versus doing it herself. "It's theactof making it, Prowl, it's something I've done every day of my adult life and I need it to feel somewhat normal again while everything else is out of whack."
It wasn't like she was asking for an entire day away from the base. All she wanted, all sheneededwas a few hours away from it all. To buy crap at a grocery store and otherwise just feel like a human being.
Prowl blinked again, cocking his head a little to one side. His optics dimmed for a flash. "I believe you can get everything you would need for that from the mess supply."
Darcy pinched her brow. Ofcoursehe didn't get it. Why would he? The last time his world had been utterly upturned was probablymillionsof years ago.
"That's not thepoint. I need to get away fromsoldiersandaliensand all thingsmilitary. I need to dosomethingthat normal people are doing every day."
His optics dimmed again and she wondered who he might be talking to.
"I cannot allow you to leave the base unprotected, but I have been informed of normalcy's importance to human psyche. I will take you, as my holoprojector is still down, time inside the store will be...alien free."
She winced. The words sounded...harsh having them repeated back at her like that and guilt gnawed at her gut, but so did hope blossom. "You will?"
His chin tipped down. "I will meet you in the garage at 0900. In the meantime, I suggest you attempt sleep."
He turned and left. Darcy glanced up at the clock on the wall, surprised to see it reading just after three. Given the lack of human company in the rec room, it was probably a.m..
Six hours before she needed to be at the bay. She knew she needed to try, even if the result was already known.
There was no need to set an alarm, in three hours she was jolting upright, Barricade's hair-raising laugh echoing in her head. Knowing she was about to be stepping back in civilization, Darcy took a long and scalding shower while trying to figure out why the hell her belly was knotted with nerves. It was just a trip to the store, with Prowl no less, why did she feel like she did her first day on the force?
Once finished and standing before her limited selection of clothes, Darcy scrunched her nose. Retrieving more of her closet was high on her list of desires. Or at least getting a few new shirts, anything to help it not feel like she was reliving the same three days over and over. Grabbing the red, she resigned herself to checking the steamy mirror. She grimaced sharply. Even blurry she could tell she looked terrible. Dark bags perpetually stained the skin under her eyes while the rest of her face looked a sickly pale the best foundation couldn't cover. The stints in the makeshift gym helped somewhat to rebuild the figure she'd lost with the Decepticons, but she still hardly recognized the woman looking back at her.
Hardly fit to face the public, but there was nothing she could do about it for now. Pulling her hair back in a poor attempt to hide its desperate need for a trim, she hoped it would be cool enough that it would not look out of place for her to wear a jacket inside.
Still too early to head for the garage, Darcy turned towards the mess hall. Coffee would be a must and she should choke down some breakfast. Doubtful Prowl would allow hertwostops when they went out.
Darcy paused, staring at the plain muffin in her hand. How was she going to pay for her little outing? Her wallet had been recovered from the mangled remains of her car and returned in her duffel, but it wasn't as if she'd been able to check her bank statements since being rescued. What had even been told to her department, if anything? Would the 'Cons be monitoring her credit cards?
At least Prowl might know something about the latter.
She sighed, wishing this could all beoveralready. She wanted her life back.
One month, she would have it back in one month. A few days had already gone by so it was down to three and a half weeks. So close she could almost taste it. She could do it.
Finally it was close enough to nine to head for the garage. Still the nerves danced in her gut, growing stronger as she stepped into the hangar bay. Her mind jumped from the black-and-white to the one in her dreams. Her pace hesitated. Eyes tracking up, they found the red chevron and her heart settled. In all her nightmares, that one thing never appeared.
Her step stuttered. Itneverappeared. Even the Prowl of her dreams lacked the splash of red. She let her eyes linger on it as she approached him. Such a small thing and yet it stilled the nerves all the same.
"Are you ready, Detective?" he asked, punching a code into the massive bay door. It slid open on a silent track.
"As I'll ever be," she answered, tugging the jacket over her shoulders. The incision on her forearm itched fiercely under the bandage. "Ah, Prowl, is this a cash only venture or am I free to use my cards?"
She had both, just in case, but her stash of cash was well….not enough to cover a proper grocery run.
Prowl dropped wordlessly down into the Charger, propping open the driver's door. Darcy eyed the offering warily, remembering his little stunt the last time. Of course with the holoprojector still down, he couldn't very well make it look like he was driving himself, so there really wasn't much of a choice.
If he drifted them in front of a semi again though, she was running him into a guardrail.
"Neither," he finally answered as she took the seat and clicked the seatbelt into place. "Check the glovebox."
Raising a brow, Darcy did as he bid, popping open the compartment and finding a thick silver card. The sucker washeavyand solid. Definitely metal and definitely a company card.
"I would advise against using your own cards, the Decepticons may be tracking activity on any of your accounts. While you are in our care, you may use this to get what you need."
"Oh, uh, thanks." She glanced at the card, brows raising. "Darcy Row?Really?"
Prowl rolled forward, breaching through the bay doors and into the late dawn. "I could not use your full given name."
"But isn't just tacking on the last name of your human cover a little...obvious?" It was not a move she expected of a tactician, certainly.
"Precisely. They will expect me to make it difficult and so they will dismiss it as coincidence or a false lead if they uncover the new identity." It was some backwards reverse psychology or something. Darcy thought it nuts, but maybe it was just nuts enough to work.
Or maybe she was loony for trusting it and had finally lost what was left of her wits. Either way, the dam was falling behind and she wasn't about to look the gift horse in the mouth and cancel her chance at getting away for a few hours. Prowl knew what he was doing, she just had to trust him.
Desert passed by in a brown blur and Darcy watched it without interest. A multi-colored bird flushed from the sagebrush, indignant at their passing; Darcy tilted her head as it brought the landscape into focus. Away from the road a coyote trotted easily, too intent on his destination to be bothered by them. Small birds flitted from branch to branch among the bushes, singing songs drowned out by the growl of Prowl's engine.
Jagged red rocks broke through to tower overhead or dropped away to reveal small canyons to the creek beds below. It had its own beauty in a way, so very different from the Rockies in the distant north. And yet, the two landscapes possessed so many similarities.
Same coin, just opposite sides.
Chewing her bottom lip, Darcy glanced at the steering wheel in front of her, thumb mindlessly tracing over the faux leather.
"Sometimes….sometimes it's the Decepticons torturing me or someone else while all I can do is watch. Sometimes it's Barricade going through with all the things he threatened me with or Shockwave continuing his experiments. Sometimes I just relive the night Starscream let everyone else go before sending the others out to gun them down; only...only I'm out there with them, but I can't get to any of them in time. I'm always too slow, too late." Darcy took a shuddering breath, closing her eyes so that she might pretend she was only confessing to herself. "But sometimes the Cons...they aren't totally themselves, they have some of your features. Blue eyes, Jazz's visor, Ironhide's guns, Ratchet's paint colors, sometimes even your voices. And then other times….other times it's Autobots doing the torturing, the killing, and I can never do anything about it. I can't help anyone. Iknowyou're the good guys, I know you would never do it, but it all just...it feels so real and I can't….I can't not remember it when around some of you."
Darcy fell into silence, the twisted visions of her mind rolling behind her eyes. There was no escape from it and she didn't know what to do anymore. Sleeping as little as possible wasn't working, forcing herself to be around the Autobots wasn't helping her anxiety around them, now putting it out into the open air felt like ripping the scab off a barely closing wound.
Prowl let the quiet go for some time, either waiting for her to add more or unsure of how to respond.
"I know it will not be easy," he finally started, "but you must let go of what you cannot change. The other humans would have perished regardless of your presence in the mountain. You have to accept that there was nothing you could have done, but we can stop them from doing it again. Our kind are strong, but we are not gods. We can be killed. We can and will stop the Decepticons, and humans like you can help us do it."
Darcy snorted softly. Sure NEST had the human component that went into fights with the Autobots, but did they ever truly accomplish much or were they simply a distraction of which granted the bots the openings they needed to take down their enemy?
"While you cannot directly participate for the time being, I will put in a request for you to observe field practice of the soldiers. We are far from impervious to damage. I am sure Jazz will be more than happy to point out individual susceptibilities." A note of amusement traced his tone at the end.
Darcy raised her brows. As the tactician, no doubt Prowl knew a way to exploit each and every bot's weakness to beat them. Only thing hedidn'tseem to know how to do was keep bullheaded humans from doing something stupid.
Rubbing her knuckles, mostly healed but still tender, she winced at the now decently sized list of things she'd done lately that she wasn't proud of. "I...I never apologized for hitting your holoform and breaking the projector. I didn't...I shouldn't have done it. You were right and I'm sorry."
Air escaped the vents more heavily, brushing across her face. "I cannot absolve myself of fault, for you were not entirely wrong. I underestimated your tenacity and believed I could steer you where I willed. When I could not, I blamed human stubbornness rather than find fault in my own actions."
Darcy's lips twitched, "Well I wouldn't completely rule out human stubbornness. I was bullheaded and pushing for intel I wasn't cleared to know."
Still,Prowlwas admitting to fault in basically what amounted to his real version of an apology.
"You were dedicated to help your people. That you would care so much for others you have never met is an admirable trait, Detective."
It shouldn't mean much, it wasn't such a unique trait after all, especially among cops, but coming from the tactician, it resonated as high praise.
"Still, you're out a projector because I couldn't watch my temper." She sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck. Granted what he'd said was certainly no way to keep anyone calm, but she did feel bad for breaking the holoform.
The Charger rumbled lightly. Was that….was that a laugh? His tone was certainly the most amused she'd ever heard it. "I assure you, our tech is not usually so fragile. The projector had been barely functioning for some time. Hound had been insisting I allow him to fix it, but I put him off. I believe he considers what you did a favor."
"Is that…" she cocked her head, eyeing the dash, "is that why you let me, ah, steal you? When John was taken?"
It had certainly been the biggest question mark she'd had about his behavior since finding out his true nature. All it would have taken was locking his doors or refusing to move.
"Yes. I overheard the call you received and was unable to project my holoform. I knew my scanners would be able to pick up what you could not see and so ensured that you could not take your own vehicle. A good thing I did, as it was the moment Barricade chose to reveal himself."
Darcy couldn't stop the shudder that racked down her spine. Starscream may be the leader of the Decepticons, Shockwave may have held no emotion while he torturing people for his experiments, and Knock Out may have been a sadistic doctor who cared more for his finish than he did the lives he took, but it was Barricade that scared her the most.
"I know that I failed you once," Prowl continued after a pause, "but I will do everything in my power to not do so again. I will not allow Barricade to touch you."
The detective knew well the promises one could and couldn't make in law enforcement, so she appreciated the line that Prowl walked with his words. It was a promise to do all he could, and despite the fear and distrust she felt towards his kind, she knew she could believe he would do as he said.
Of all of them, she could trust him.
A comfortable silence fell between them as the countryside continued to roll by, slowly giving way to human structures. Prowl stayed on the highway, even as a decently sized supermarket flashed its name on glowing signs.
"Uh, Prowl? Aren't we going to a store?" Darcy asked, raising a brow as just as quickly as it had arrived, the town faded to the rearview.
"Yes."
The other brow joined the first as he failed to elaborate further. "And you realize you just passed one?"
"Yes."
Oh for God's sake. One moment it feels like they're getting somewhere and the next she's not feeling so sorry for hitting him. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she closed her eyes and blew out a breath. "Andwhydid we not stop at that one?"
"Because it is the nearest store to the Dam. The further we get from it, the less likely the Decepticons are to incidentally discover it."
Okay, so that made sense, but still, "I thought that was the point of the fake name?"
She waved the credit card for emphasis. Huh, could he actuallyseewhat went on in his cab or only feel it?
Nope, that wasn't a question she wanted answered.
"A point made moot should you visit a location large enough to have security cameras."
Okay, point again. "Do you really think they'd be monitoringeverycamera looking formyface? I'm no one."
Would she have to worry about that when she went home? Would she have to change her name, avoid any and all types of cameras for the rest of her life?
"On the contrary, you are not only a known ally of the Autobots, but you escaped their captivity. Even Starscream will take that personally and it is nothing for Soundwave to infiltrate CCTV networks on a global scale."
That was definitely a terrifying notion, a Decepticon with global access to all security cameras attached to any sort of satellite or internet. "What about John? You all said he'd be safe to go home and he escaped them."
"Yet his attachment to us is through you. I cannot promise they would not take him again if presented the opportunity; what makes Starscream so dangerous is his unpredictability, but I do not think he will put much effort into searching for a human who is not directly tied to us." He paused as a cruiser raced by with lights and sirens. Darcy felt a pang, wishing she could follow and knowing she might never be able to do so again. "Optimus offered your friend Autobot protection for a time, but he turned it down. NEST will still ensure he makes the move to Florida without incident."
She could only hope Starscream would leave the other survivors alone, could only hope NEST would be enough protection if he didn't. But what about her? Lennox was in this for the long haul, but she had no intention of staying for longer than she had to, so how long would that really be? How long would the Decepticons continue to be a threat to her, simply because they knew her face?
Releasing a sigh, Darcy slumped in the seat. At least John was being looked after for the time being, she could be thankful for that. Whatever she had to deal with, however long it lasted, she could handle it. She was Darcy Blake, she was a police detective, she had survived the Decepticons, and she would get through time with the Autobots and get her head straight again.
Quiet descended again while Darcy let herself get lost in her own thoughts, paying no attention to the road or how long they drove for. Only when Prowl exited the highway did she look up and around. The landscape hardly looked any different than it had when they left the dam; perhaps a bit drier, a bit more open, but nothing to indicate which direction the dam itself was.
Dirt flew behind the Charger as Prowl turned off the highway and onto a road that hadn't seen painted lines in at least twenty years. Yet as a small town appeared on the horizon, the passing vehicles showed to be in better condition than the pavement. The general store appeared larger than the detective expected for way out here, boasting its own parking lot dotted with trucks new, old, and ancient.
Several drivers turned to watch the dramatically painted cruiser pull in. Darcy pursed her lips. "I'm all for hitting a town without cameras and using a fake name, but don't you thinkyoustand out?"
All it would take was one picture on social media to out him.
"The more the humans believe you to be just passing by, the fewer questions they are likely to ask."
He had a point. Local sheriff might approach her, but everyone else was eyeing the rig like wary deer, ready to bolt at a moment's notice.
"Alright," Darcy blew out a steadying breath, making sure the credit card was in her wallet. "I'll try to make it quick."
"Take as much time as you need, Detective."
Right, sparing the dash a grateful look, she swung the door open and stepped into the blazing sun. So very different from the cold north, it drew a line of sweat on the back of her neck before she'd even finished crossing the parking lot. Heart pounding in her ears, she stepped through the doors into the store, immediately greeted by the cool breeze of a struggling A/C. Still too hot for a jacket. She scratched at her damaged forearm.
Healing started with not hiding. She showed up in a police car, everyone would assume injuries had been taken on the job. Biting her lip as she moved away from the front door, Darcy carefully pushed the jacket sleeves up to her elbows. There weren't many people in the store itself, the majority apparently loitering in the parking lot to catch up with friends and neighbors they hadn't seen since the last trek into town. Even so, she swore she felt eyes on her, tracking over the bandage and the hollow cheeks.
Sucking in another shaky breath, she picked an aisle at random and walked down it. She didn't know what she needed, she realized belatedly. There'd been no attempt to make a list or even consider what she might attempt to cook during her stay at the base. The spices had her as lost as a cactus in a snowstorm.
Her weight rocked back and forth from foot to foot, teeth worrying her lip hard enough to draw a line of blood. She was bare and exposed. The lack of a gun at her hip more painfully obvious than it had ever been before. She was defenseless and alone. The aisle was too close, too narrow. There was no room to move and only two exits made it too easy a trap, too much like the tunnels in the mountains.
"Honey, are you okay?"
Darcy lurched away from the voice, mind racing until her eyes focused on the elderly woman standing next to her. Clenching her shaking hands, she tried to will her galloping heart to steady.
"I….ah….will be, thanks." She offered the woman a weak smile, staring at the spices without seeing them. How long had she been standing here?
"No dear, thankyou." The woman slowly reached out and took a trembling hand between her own, lightly patting the back of it while briefly glancing at the bandage.
Darcy stared at her in confusion. "What?"
She offered a soft smile, tipping her head towards the front of the store. "For your service. I saw what car you came in. I just want to thank you for doing all you can to help people. It may not always feel like enough, but know that it is enough and there are still people who see you and appreciate what you do."
The detective blinked suddenly burning eyes and found herself fighting against a lump in her throat. "I, uh, thank you, that means a lot."
The woman gave her hand one last pat before releasing it and reaching for a bottle of bay leaves. "Whenever I find myself in need of easy comfort, I always go for breakfast. Not much a pancake can't make a little brighter."
A wider smile was tossed her way along with a wink before the woman walked off the way she had come and disappeared towards another aisle.
Darcy tilted her head, discovering that her hands were not shaking quite so much. Her lips twitched. Once upon a time, Lennox had forced Prowl to pick upIHopas a formal apology. Maybe the sweet old lady was on to something.
It only took a minute to find the breakfast aisle and load a basket with everything she might need to replicate that breakfast. They even carried the brand of coffee she liked. The longer she moved, the more she grabbed, until the basket threatened to topple its contents onto the floor. For a moment she considered trading it in for a cart. No, she didn't know what the limit was on this card and better to not be completely stocked, she'd be needing another excuse to leave the base soon enough.
Paying without incident, Darcy stepped back into the outside world feeling a little lighter despite the weight of the bags in her hand. Prowl hadn't moved, though he was still gaining a few curious stares from others pulling in or walking by. Darcy avoided all of their eyes as she approached the Charger, the front door swinging easily open the moment her finger touched it. Prowl appeared so lifeless and silent that if it weren't for the Autobot insignia brazenly displayed on the side and on the steering wheel, she might have confused him for any other police cruiser. Only when the door shut, firmly cutting her off from the outside world, did he come to life, revving his engine in a faux display of start up.
"Your heart rate became elevated for a time, did something happen?" He pulled back onto the road, heading the way they had come.
"No," she answered a little too fast, embarrassed to admit nearly having a panic attack in a grocery store aisle, "just got lost in my own head for a….how do you know?"
She frowned at the dash. Now she was fairly certain the scanners didnotwork through solid walls, nor would Prowl have gotten away with using them while surrounded by so many civilians. So how in the hell did he know her heart rate when she wasinthe store?
Prowl did not answer at first, letting the town fall to his rearview before admitting reluctantly, "The phone that Jazz gave to you has minor sensors attuned to you. Only I have the frequency to read it and I must be within fifty yards to do so."
It really wasn'tthatmuch of a surprise, she'd already figured that it worked both ways as a tracker, but to know that it was monitoring her damnheart rate? Pinching the bridge of her nose and silently counting down from ten, she tried to remind herself that this was Prowl's way of watching out and that he'd gone so far out of his way just to let her visit a grocery store.
"That is….uncalled for, Prowl. If you're going to give me tech, I need toknow about it." Yep, the stupid thing was going in a deep drawer where she wasnotgoing to touch it again.
"And yet your pattern of hiding what is bothering you makes it difficult to trust you would be forthcoming with some of the issues you are facing."
Darcy growled low in her throat. "There is areasonfor that."
"I understand. While I cannot be sorry for taking preemptive measures, I will...endeavor to be more open about any technology we present to you."
It certainly wasn't a promise not to do it again, Darcy noted with a scowl, but she decided to let this one pass with a heavily released breath. No doubt if somethinghadhappened that required Autobot intervention, she would have been thankful for the thing. But it hadn't, so she let herself be annoyed for a bit longer before brushing it away. A phone was a large scale improvement over a physical chip that threatened to kill her if she tried removing it.
"May I ask what you got lost in your head about?" Prowl asked after a time. Already they were back on the highway, the distance to the dam fast closing.
Darcy shrugged, unsure if he would even be able to comprehend a feeling so many in her field faced after an injury. "Just...it's a little bit of a shock stepping back into the normal world. It's always a little jarring after an….incident."
Yeah, incident was sonotthe way to describe what happened, but it was what she was going with. The lack of a gun had only made it that much worse, but she kept that part to herself. There was only so much confessing of her twisted mind she could do in a day.
"I cannot say it is something I have experienced; is there something I can do to assist?" Alright whowasthis guy and what had he done with Prowl?
"No, it's just something I've got to work through myself."
He did just that, letting the miles pass in easy silence. By the time they rolled up to the big bay doors of the base, noon had come and gone. Soldiers moved about their business, clearly a slim path for a green Autobot she dimly recognized. Stepping out of Prowl's alt mode with bags in tow, she made it only a few steps away before he transformed and stood to his full height.
That was a sight she wasnevergoing to get used to.
"Hound," he greeted the approaching bot, who boasted a recognizable Jeep grill on his chest. She'd seen him a few times, but never had he said anything to her.
"It isn't the cleanest fix given the lack of proper tools around here, but it should do the trick for now. I'm working on a new prototype for you." Hound offered out a small metal box. Darcy was fairly certain the last time she'd seen it, it'd been smoking.
Prowl took it, the metal plates on his torso shifting to reveal an empty space perfectly sized for the box. "If it is functional, that is all I require."
Darcy couldn't keep track of all the little pieces that seemingly moved themselves to accommodate and attach to the box, which faintly lit up with blue once placed. The outer panels shifted back into place, hiding it from view.
Yeah, she was definitely never getting used to these aliens.
A flicker of light and Karl Urban was standing in front of her, the too-blue eyes of the Autobot giving her a curious look as she snorted.
"Is something amusing, Detective?" he asked, his real body standing eerily still as the holoform turned towards her.
"It's, ah, an interesting look," Darcy fought and failed to hide her amused grin.
Hound sighed. "It appears the twins may have tampered with it while I was busy elsewhere."
Prowl's holoform blinked, looking down at himself. Where once had been a crisp suit was now the most god awful Hawaiin shirt and shorts combo Darcy had ever seen in her life. To top it off, where once brunette hair laid neatly back, was now a shaggy mane half dyed yellow and cherry red.
The holoform dissipated, the faux Charger shifting towards the main door into the rest of the base. "Detective, if you will excuse me, I have two miscreants to deal with."
Before she could get out a proper response, he was stalking away, the door wings on his back rigid.
"Should I be concerned?" she asked the remaining alien who was watching the tactician disappear with amusement plain on his face.
He looked back at her with a flash of surprise before smiling easily. "For Prowl? Definitely not. For the twins? Possibly, but it will hardly be more than they've brought on themselves."
"This isn't a new thing, is it?" Sounded downright suicidal to try prankingProwlof all Autobots, but somehow Hound didn't seem all that shocked by it.
"Oh no. The longer we go without Decepticon contact, the more inventive they get. Doubly so now that Jazz is back."
"Jazz is a prankster?"
Hound barked a laugh. "Jazz istheprankster. So watch yourself around him, he's corrupted many to his ways."
A blue optic shuttered out in a wink before the green Jeep was headed back down the hall, chuckling to himself.
Giant alien robots who played pranks, who pulled others into it, who got creative when the boredom set in. Besides being alien robots who could turn into cars, there seemed very little that made them different from any human band of soldiers.
With that thought bouncing around her head, Darcy made for her little apartment. After brewing a cup of coffee, she would master the art of pancakes.
Alright, aftertwocups of caffeinated lifeblood, three burnt attempts, and four grotesquely undercooked battery balls of mush, she finally managed a pair of edible breakfast cakes. It was nothing on the restaurant chain, but Darcy was still going to take it as a win.
And she was getting dinner from the mess hall later.
Chapter 20: Oh For a Dream So Soft and Sweet
Chapter Text
"Faith is taking the first step, even when you don't see the whole staircase." ~MLK Jr.
"With all due respect, Prime, this is not working. We are no closer to uncovering Starscream's plans and ending them."
Optimus released a heavy vent as he glanced at his tactician. "I know what you would have me do, old friend, but that is not an order I am yet ready to give. The Wreckers will continue to scout the other locations and maintain radio silence until their scheduled check in. We do not have the numbers for raiding all of them at once and if we take one, they may eradicate all humans they may have at the others."
"There stands a good probability that they have already done so given our destruction of their Cascade base," Prowl reasoned. While he wanted to stave off as much human death as possible, sitting on their hands while the Wreckers scouted out the other areas that held unusual levels of disappearances was helping no one.
Prime tipped his head. "Even so, I will give my orders as if they have not, until we know for certain one way or the other."
Not exactly the answer that Prowl had wanted, but the one he'd suspected he would get anyway. Prime had a soft spark when it came to the humans, he wouldn't make a move if it meant some could die. And yet, not moving was only guaranteeing the same, in the long run. It was just a matter of numbers in the end.
Briefly, the thought flickered across his processor on what the detective would think of all this. Would a human be all for raids? Or would she push to wait, to hold back until they had all the information? As much as Lennox hated it, he sided firmly with the latter. Yet the tactician did not believe the woman would be as willing to sit by.
Now there was a possibility.
"As for the other matter?" he asked, his processor already running through the potential routes to be taken regardless of the answer.
Optimus regarded the other mech for a long moment, wondering what the hidden agenda was in the query. There was always something when it came to such an….unexpected request. Ironhide would no doubt brush it off as the black-and-white finally getting attached, but the Prime knew his tactician better than that. There may have been something, but he held doubt that it was purely for the benefit of the human. So he hesitated, running through any way in which a positive reply may possibly hurt the detective in some way. He did not have a processor designed for seeing every possible outcome, yet he could come up with no true harm.
"Permission granted on condition."
"Understood," Prowl nodded once. It would be a thin line to tread, but one that he was accustomed to walking.
According to some of the advice from Jazz, it may even help the detective as much as it could benefit him. But as Prowl left Optimus, he carefully considered how best to approach the situation. He could plan a hundred possibilities, but he was quickly learning that he could not always accurately predict the woman's response. He would just have to be prepared for any and all reactions she might throw at him...and still be prepared to be surprised.
Accessing the tracking frequency in the phone, he started for her assigned quarters. The phone was not moving, but perhaps she was attempting to find that normalcy by cooking. A good change as he was well aware the detective's nutrition intake had been subpar at best when they met and had yet to change for the better since her rescue.
Brow ridges furrowed as he got closer, signaling for the low level scanners to activate; they flashed back no signs of life. His trek paused. Wasn't the first time she'd left the phone in her room while she was out and he had a suspicion it was exactly for this reason. She could not intentionally avoid them, but neither could he find her with ease.
Well, except for the rather large number of Autobots still on the base.
"Haven' seen 'er in a few joors,"Jazz replied to the inquiry he sent over the general comms. "Wha' ya plannin', Prowls?"
The tactician chose to ignore the question as negatives came in from the others.
"Lose your human again already?"Sunstreaker snipped, his general view of the human race only further darkened by the disciplinary action he was forced through to make up for his part in sabotaging Prowl's holoprojector.
"Care to extend your time as a field target?"Prowl replied easily, receiving a dangerously low snarl from the frontliner before a sharply bitten negative confirmed the detective was not among the NEST operatives currently attempting to splatter his frame with paintballs.
"Saw her a few kliks ago. Took one look around and turned tail. Don't think she was quite with us,"Hound answered from just outside the rec room.
Prowl vented as he headed that way. The name may have changed among the humans over the centuries and the Cybertronians may have had an entirely different term for it, but the signs were all the same. Post-traumatic stress, shell shock, battle fatigue, all meant one thing in their language: she was Crash Looping.
Jazz had already confirmed she'd slipped into it more than once when with him and the tactician was certain she had during her brief trip into the store and that she woke trapped in it sometimes.
Somehow he didn't believe she would come to cope with it the same way that Bluestreak did.
"Found her!"Sideswipe chipped cheerfully, adding the exact hallway and that she had yet to spot him.
"Do not approach,"Prowl ordered, immediately starting in the direction of the wheeled frontliner.
"Can't hog her to yourself forever."Sideswipe's pout could be seen even through the comms. Prowl was tempted towards the human tick of rolling his optics at the ridiculous statement. He hardly cared who the detective spent her time with; his concern lay solely on Sideswipe's inability to filter himself.
"Prowler I can practic'ly feel ya processor spinnin',"Jazz mused moments before his body came into view down the hall, blocking the tactician's immediate path. "Come on an' tell 'ole Jazzy what you're plottin'."
"It is a matter between the Detective and I," Prowl stated flatly, pausing as the smaller mech refused to budge from his place.
Jazz was raising a brow at him, he just knew it. "Are ya totally confiden' in yer planned delivereh?"
Prowl hesitated. The saboteurdidhave better experience with people and had developed a rapport with the woman. It couldn't hurt...much.
"Hey, Baby Girl!" Darcy frowned, turning at the voice that sounded vaguely familiar but that she couldn't immediately place. Most likely he wasn't even addressing her, but a cursory glance around as she rotated revealed an utter lack of anyone else.
Heart thudding in her ears, she cursed the tires the silver alien rode in on in silence. No running, she commanded herself, no hoping Jazz might come save her again. She could handle this. At least the surly yellow twin was nowhere to be seen.
"Sideswipe," she greeted warily. A fearsome warrior on the battlefield, she'd been told of him, but the danger outside of a fight was getting roped into one of his ill-planned pranks. Otherwise he was harmless, as harmless as a multi-ton alien could be. "Don't tell me you're going to start with that name too."
She blamed Jazz entirely for that particular moniker getting around. The human soldiers hadn't picked up on it yet, but a few of the Autobots seemed to enjoy using it when greeting her in the halls.
Sideswipe shrugged loosely, rolling back and forth as if pent up energy refused to let him stand still. "Well, darlin' you never did give me a name."
He winked at her and Darcy knew for a fact that he did actually know her real name, he was just choosing to be a pain.
"It's Darcy," she supplied rather than call him on it. "I saw you took advantage of Prowl's projector being repaired."
Best way to get on the good side of a prankster? Acknowledge the pranks. That was her theory anyway and she had no intention of finding out how a robotic alien might choose to mess with humans.
Sideswipe practically beamed with pride, his back straightening and tires locking into place. Darcy suddenly had an image flash behind her eyes of a frat boy about to peacock. She barely contained her snorted laugh. "Not our best work, but not bad for the limited access we had. The trick was setting it up so he wouldn't notice the coding change."
"Uh huh." Darcy didn't pretend to have a clue about how the damn projectors worked, nor did she want to encourage what would probably be a long explanation that would fly over her head anyway. "I will forever be haunted by that shirt, so thanks for that."
Prowl hadn't used his projector in the few days since, but she doubted she'd be able to see that Karl Urban face without also seeing that yellow and orange monstrosity.
The silver alien barked a laugh, leaning back in as he confessed in a conspiratory stage whisper, "I'm tryin' to get the company to make one that'll fit Prowl himself, but they're balking at a 137X."
Darcy stared at him, brows hiking towards her hairline. "You're not serious."
Sideswipe made a motion that was like waggling his brows at her. "It was tricky, but I took the measurements myself."
This time she didn't bother hiding her laugh. "I would be impressed if you could get someone to make it, but I'd be even more impressed if you could actually get Prowlintoit."
There wasdefinitelyno possible way this frontliner could get the tactician into an actual shirt.
A devious grin swept over Sideswipe's face and Darcy belatedly recalled Jazz warning her to never challenge a prankster to anything. "Oh, I'll find a way, you can be sure of that. Of course, it will be easier if I have a little help with the distraction."
He was looking at her expectantly and eagerly, the gears in his mind damn near audibly whirling as his plan hatched out before him. Darcy backpedaled, holding up her hands in denial. "Uh uh, no way. You are not dragging me into a prank againstProwl. That would besuicideand I like living, thank you."
"Tsk, tsk," he rumbled, rolling forward and skating around her to block her retreat. Turning to follow the motion, she found his face much closer than she was comfortable with. "Darcy, Darcy,Darcy. It'll happen with or without you, but without...well...it would be such a shame if that particular nickname you are not so fond of were to make it around and become an official callsign."
Darcy's jaw dropped. "Are youblackmailingme?"
Sideswipe straightened again, victory clear on his smug face. "I do what is necessary. So what do ya say, Baby Girl?"
The detective narrowed her eyes, pursing her lips as she tried to find an out. Her options were not ideal either way. Of course, she could always go to Prowl with the ultimatum and let him deal with the silver alien, but she had a feeling it would only makeherthe target of his next mischief, and that was the last thing she wanted.
"Fine."
"Fine what?" He raised a brow ridge, his smirk growing.
Darcy weighed the pros and cons of throwing her boot at him. "FineI will help you distract him when the time comes."
Of course that all relied exclusively on the alien finding a company willing to make a hideous shirt in a size 137X, which she rather doubted he'd be able to do. So really, even agreeing she was safe. He wouldn't help spread that moniker and she wouldn't have to assist him in pranking Prowl. A win-win.
"I knew you'd see it my way, darlin'," Sideswipe purred, flashing a wink.
Darcy held up a warning finger, wagging it at him. "Uh uh, no. I agreed to help so that meansnonicknames. My name isDarcy."
He leaned back with a dramatic roll of his head and a heavy vent that blasted air across her face. "Fine, Darcy, I look forward to our scheming together."
Now there was a threat if she'd ever heard one. She grimaced, wondering just what she might have unintentionally signed on for.
"I still don' like it, Prowler," Jazz's voice came around the corner moments before he appeared, the tactician at his side. Both of them looked tense, a fact Darcy marveled at for a moment; not that they were, but that she couldtell.
"It is not up to you to like it, nor, in the end, is it your business," Prowl replied tersely, halting as they reached the pair. He nodded once at her. "Detective."
Jazz waved, his customary smile flashing across his face as his hand then slapped against Sideswipe's shoulder. "Hiya, Darce. Sides'."
"Prowl, Jazz," Darcy greeted, sidestepping out of the middle of the hall and towards the wall.
The tactician eyed her movement while Sideswipe sputtered, gesturing between the two other Autobots. "Theyget to call you nicknames, but Idon't? What gives!?"
Darcy raised a brow and, emboldened by the newcomers that would back her up, jerked her thumb at them while giving the frontliner a smirk of her own. "I actually like them."
Sideswipe gasped dramatically, hand flying over his chassis. "And here I thought we were making our way to friends."
"Are you not required to be elsewhere?" Prowl rumbled in a tone that screamed commanding officer.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm goin', I'm goin'." Snapping what had to be the laziest salute Darcy had ever seen, Sideswipe skated backwards down the hall. "I'll catch ya later, dollface."
"Wha-NO!" Darcy hollered after him, but he was already around the next corner and gone. Trouble that one was, with a capital 'T'.
It was silent for a beat before Prowl turned to the other remaining silver mech, brow ridges raised. Jazz met his stare hard, looking larger than normal. "Don't muff it."
Deflating, his look softened as he turned to the detective. "We'll ge' some coffeh later, yeah?"
Cocking her head, Darcy frowned as she nodded. "Yeah, sure thing."
As if this encounter hadn't stirred up enough red flags, Jazz gave one last sharp look to Prowl before stiffly following Sideswipe's exit.
"Well that was tense," Darcy noted dryly, looking up at the black-and-white for some sort of explanation as to what the hell that was all about. "Care to share?"
He blinked down at her for a brief moment before turning back the way he had come, tipping his head. "No. Follow me...if you will."
Briefly she entertained the idea of refusing until he shared before shoving that thought away and trekking after him. It wasn't her business, the less she knew at the end of all this, the better.
"So where are we going?" She dared ask after the silence stretched a moment too long.
"To follow through with what I said I was going to do," he replied simply, making no further effort to elaborate.
Yeah, cause thattotallycleared things up.
Darcy rolled her eyes towards the ceiling. "Are you intentionally being obtuse or is this just your natural state?"
Of course it was his natural state, this was hardly anythingnew.He only ever shared exactly as much as he wanted to at any given time. Annoying as all hell, but something she was finding herself almost expecting. At least it wasn't a surprise. Jazz made a nice opposition to the tactician, able to launch into an over-explanation or amusing story from any question posed to him. Now if only they could combine forces to balance each other out, she mused, lips pulling into a smirk at the thought. The saboteur had made clear that the twowerefriends, had been for a long time, once they learned to stop hating each other. They'd worked well together and definitelychallengedeach other. But not quite in the same way, he'd made sure to mention, thatshechallenged Prowl. Darcy chose not to read into anything in that particular statement.
"I am certain Jazz would claim it is my natural state," Prowl tossed out casually. Darcy blinked up at him, noting that the tenseness had eased somewhat and his doorwings appeared slightly more relaxed. Huh, she didn't expect that. A tense Prowl usually stayed that way for at least a solid few hours. Certainly wasn't his talk with Jazz that eased it.
The less she knew the better, she reminded herself.
They reached the end of the large hall, the walkway shrinking down through a human sized door. Prowl seamlessly dropped down into his alt mode, backing his rear bumper into the corner before his holoform stepped out. No longer sporting a Hawaiian shirt or multicolored hair, the holoform looked as crisp and strict-business as when they'd first met. Bummer. Cocking her head as he held the door open and motioned for her to enter first, she flashed him an innocent smile. "You know, I think the other shirt really did suit you. Sideswipe has better taste than I thought."
The scowl he shot her was worth it.
"Do not let Sideswipe hear you say that. It will only encourage him." Something else tinged his tone and Darcy wondered if he was not actually all that cross at the pranks pulled by the twins. At least not with this latest one. Sure it was against regulations to sabotage a commanding officer's equipment, but it was harmless fun. No doubt a boost to morale. Perhaps the punishments had been the favor returned in kind. Hmm, she might have to ask Jazz later just what the punishment had been for the twins.
And what it might be if the silver frontliner succeeded in his follow-up plan. For a moment, Darcy almost hoped he would successfully find what he needed to pull it off.
Mentally shaking herself, she pushed the thought from her mind. The less involved she was the better. The less she knew of them and they of her, the better. The more she could keep herself apart, the sooner she could go home and put it all behind her.
Blowing out a breath to shove the twisting thoughts aside, she looked around as Prowl led her down several twists and turns. She'd never been to this part of the base before. These doors were all protected by security codes or card readers, both of which Prowl bypassed by placing his hand against the box. An electrical trick or was it reading something from the hologram?
No, she didn't want to know.
"I told you before that I would get you the opportunity to observe training practice with the soldiers. They are running drills today, shooting with paintballs to mark their targets. The Autobot assigned to their group will respond accordingly to which shots would have caused the most damage and which would have been wasted ammunition." There wasdefinitelya note of amusement in his tone as he told her about the practice, gesturing for her to enter a room where one wall was overtaken by an opening that looked down over a cavernous room crowded with machinery in haphazard fashion. There was little to no order to it all, appearing more like a little-cared about storage room than a real obstacle course.
Figures in full tactical gear duck and dove about, their shouted orders muffled by the space between them.
Darcy raised her brows at Prowl's holoform before looking out at the movement below. It was all humans, looking as if they were attempting to surround something that wasn't there.
The guns they raised looked real enough, except for the paintball cartridges loaded on top. A common enough training method, she recalled, absentmindedly rubbing her collar where she'd been hit by one during her time in the Academy. Not fatal by any means, but they still hurt like a bitch and offered a valuable lesson.
A roar of a powerful engine drowned out the human voices as a sunny yellow car launched itself out from under the ragged brown tarp it'd been hiding under, nearly running over a soldier who barely dove out of the way in time. Darcy felt her heart skip a beat as the Lamborghini bore down on another person who refused to move, raising the paintball gun to their shoulder and firing. The car exploded upwards, the Autobot launching themself clear over the human and avoiding the ball that then splattered orange paint over the crates behind it.
Darcy knew she hadn't met all of the Autobots on this base, but so far she only knew of one that was that shade of yellow and who sported the logo to such a car: Sideswipe's twin, the other half who'd had such a look of disdain on his face that she was sure he held no love for humans. Prowl had also made a comment about not being him and caring if his paint got scratched when they went on their first drive together. This was Sunstreaker, the ill-tempered one who occasionally got into mischief but above all else kept his paintperfect.
And these NEST soldiers were attempting to pepper him with paintballs.
She glanced at Prowl, wondering and suspecting he had something to do with this. From what she'd heard from Jazz's stories, Sunstreaker would be thelastto ever volunteer for such a duty, though others got a kick from it.
A nasty curse came from the yellow bot as blue paint splattered the panel on his left shoulder and a smirk tugged at the corner of the holoform's lips.
Yeah, Prowl wasdefinitelybehind this. No wonder Sideswipe felt the need to blackmail her for future help. His twin would probably refuse after having to go through this. Darcy knew from experience that the paint wasn't the easiest thing to get off,especiallyfrom a car.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" she asked the tactician at her side, eyes transfixed as the Autobot below vaulted himself over more humans, crashing to the ground with a force that shook the floor beneath her feet. None of the soldiers faltered or hesitated to follow their target with their guns, letting more paint fly at the being that could kill them by not watching where he put his monstrously sized foot. It would take nothing to kill them all, certainly it was a tempting thought for a short-fused Autobot who did not like humanity for some reason or another.
And yet, he did not unleash hell upon the soldiers. He stayed on the defensive, firing shots of enlarged paintballs himself here and there but otherwise only attempting to move fast enough to avoid the paint sent his way.
Maybe it was because he knew Prowl was watching, maybe it was only out of fear for retaliation from his Commander or maybe his self control outweighed his dislike. The longer Darcy watched, the more she noticed the purpose in the way he moved. Though he came close to squishing more than one person, he never actually did. He knew exactly what and where and how to move to scare them back but to not actually hurt them.
"I enjoy justice," Prowl answered the question she'd already forgotten she'd asked, cocking his head as his attention focused on the movements of the humans. Belatedly, Darcy realized that that was why she was here, to see how people could fight such a being, how they could survive an encounter with one who meant to do them harm. "When the soldiers deliver an effective hit, he will act wounded as such."
Purple paint exploded next to the blue, slipping between the plates and into the complex machinery below. Immediately the left arm went limp and lifeless as the yellow warrior let loose another string of sounds that was most likely expletives in their native language. He scowled at the shoulder where the paint had hit before turning that glare to the human who had shot it. A volley of large yellow balls shot from the right arm at the man, knocking him back a clear ten feet as they exploded and covered him in the cheerfully bright color.
The revenge cost him. More paint struck plated joints, some getting lucky and hitting between the protective panels.
"Does the paint not mess up your...ah….circuits?" She tried to remember some of the terms Jazz so casually tossed around when talking about their internal workings. The words they adopted were similar to that of the innards of a car or computer. Though not exactly the same, the saboteur had noted, it was the easiest way to bridge the gap of understanding.
"No, Wheeljack developed a special mixture for this purpose. It washes out of circuitry without damaging it." Another name she didn't have a face to match, though she was certain she'd heard it in passing before.
Sunstreaker snarled as he was surrounded, key points shot out and rendering him 'unable' to escape or fight back. Thoroughly swarmed with only three soldiers painted yellow standing off to the side, he dropped back into his expensive alt mode. Immediately the soldiers paused, lowering their guns and high-fiving each other. Simulation over, human victory.
"Humans are smaller than us, weaker and more fragile, but it does not make you altogether helpless. Your strength is in your numbers and in your size. We are accustomed to fighting beings of equal size to us, sometimes larger. It may not appear so at first, but your maneuverability is higher than ours. You can use the landscape to your advantage much more than we can. While our vulnerable parts are much better protected in our vehicle modes, it is harder for us to fight back or to follow into rough terrain if we do not have a mode built for such," Prowl explained as the yellow Lambo was forced to shift back into his standing form to step over a pile of broken car parts and reach the large doors on the opposite side.
A memory flashed before her eyes of Barricade attempting to grab her after she'd dove into the ditch. He'd been unable, giving her the chance to shoot out one of his optics before attempting the failed dash to reach the incoming Prowl. Prowl, who'd gotten much better traction in the snow than a Charger should have been able to, but had not driven the mountain roads once it piled up. "Is that why you sent Ironhide and Lennox after me when I went up to check on Davis?"
When she'd walked right into Barricade's trap, when all he'd done was stab her palm to take her blood and totaled her SUV. A Mustang never should have been able to drive through that, but even then he'd skid.
Prowl dipped his chin. "I knew that Barricade was around but I did not suspect him to be there. I sent Ironhide knowing the snow conditions may be too deep for my lowered frame to pass through. Though we can handle more than our chosen alt modes are designed for, we have limits. Hound can reach places none of the rest of us can, but the twins are faster. Ironhide can weather harsher conditions, but I have better sensors."
Specialists, all of them, with assignments to match. She chewed her lip as she watched a new batch of soldiers enter below, only half the number. A massive green Autobot entered from the same door Sunstreaker had left moments before. This one she hadn't seen before and the bulky frame was unlike any other on base.
Prowl tipped his head in the direction of the newcomer. "Bulkhead is a Wrecker. He is among the strongest of us and can take the heaviest hits without sustaining severe damage, but because of that he is also one of the slowest. The key here is quick and concise attacks. Never stay engaged for long."
"Guerilla attacks, but because Sunstreaker is fast, stay close?"
He nodded once. "Precisely. Sunstreaker is dangerous when he has room to move, Bulkhead is deadly in close combat."
Knock Out was a sports car, the key would be the same as the Lamborghini, swarm and immobilize. Barricade wasn't as fast and had used her as leverage to avoid a shootout with Prowl and Ironhide, he couldn't take a hit like a Wrecker. "What about...what about flyers? Like Starscream?"
How could humans have an advantage over flight? Air superiority had won wars, after all, how could they defeat a master of the skies?
Prowl tipped his head, watching her rather than the exercise beginning below. The soldiers appeared to be playing a game of cat and mouse, taking pot shots at Bulkhead that only splattered against the intricately overlapping panels of armor as they moved away from him. Yet it all looked well coordinated. The soldiers had a plan.
"The rules for flyers are much the same as for those of us on the ground. Starscream is fast, exceptionally so. His mastery in the air is unmatched despite the larger size of his alternate mode, but that has cost him armor strength and the ability to fight up close. Box him into a location where he does not have the space to turn and he can be defeated. His other weakness is his own arrogance, he believes that he is above all else and so," he gestured towards the rafters above, where the other half of the NEST team was descending on repel lines, "he never expects an attack from above."
The soldiers on the ground stopped their retreat, flanking around to surround Bulkhead while moving in and out of his reach before he could swing the massive club his hand had turned into. They kept him pivoting, turning to follow their motions while remaining in the same location. The other half dropped fast, waiting until the last second to release a torrent of paintball fire around Bulkhead's head and neck. Orange and blue paint coated the exposed portions, places that would be impossible to hit from the ground. The spiked ball that was his weapon was replaced by his hand as he dramatically swayed back and forth. The soldiers scrambled, the ones of the lines dropping the rest of the way to the ground and retreating with the rest. The Wrecker crashed backwards into a pile of wooden pallets that promptly gave way under his weight.
"I see the light! So weak, so faint, Primus take me home!" the deep voice of the mech rumbled out, the back of his hand placed on his forehead.
Prowl shook his head as the men laughed, tossing joking farewells to the 'dying' Autobot. Darcy couldn't stop the soft smile as she watched the easy camaraderie being displayed. These men didn't see an alien from another planet, they didn't see a foreign being who could so easily snuff the life from them. They saw a brother in arms, they saw a friend, they saw someone they would gladly fight and die next to on the battlefield.
They were something else, all of them, and Darcy appreciated what they were willing to do for the planet. So much more than anything she could ever hope to do. They were the real heroes and yet the world would never know about them or what they did.
"Thank you, Prowl," she uttered as they reset with a new batch of colors, this time without the men in the rafters.
"Of course. I...could not protect you before, so I will do what I can to help you now. If you would find me when you are finished here, I have one more thing." Placing a hesitant hand on her shoulder, he offered a soft squeeze before heading out the way they had come in.
Curiosity almost drove her to follow him immediately, but the logical side won out and kept her firmly in place. While it did not necessarily make her feel more powerful to see the way in which these teams of highly trained soldiers worked together to overcome their target, it eased….something buried inside, to know that they were not totally at the mercy of their enemy or allies.
So she stayed and she watched as the teams went through a variety of drills with Bulkhead. As the humans began to tire, they were forced to face the Autobot solo, their goal to reach the 'safety zone' on the other side of the room. A seemingly impossible feat and yet more than half successfully made it. The ones that did not were met with that weaponized wrecking ball slamming into the ground less than a foot from their face and then given tips on why their plan failed. It wasn't just an exercise to test what they knew, it was a chance to try new tactics and learn from them without getting killed, both for the humans and the Autobot.
Eventually the session ended, several of the men and women calling out to Bulkhead that they would meet him for drinks later.
Another group did not follow, but even so Darcy stayed in the overlook for some time after, thinking about what she saw and the Decepticons she'd faced. Ravage was small and fast, which had to mean he'd be weak to direct hitsifone could land. Shockwave was huge, though she didn't know what he could transform into. Whatever it was, it couldn't be fast. Barricade was like Prowl then, maybe. Neither the fastest nor the strongest, they sat somewhere in the middle, relying more heavily on other specialties than the abilities of their bodies. Prowl was a tactician, but what was Barricade?
And why was the personal beef between them so severe?
The less she knew the better.
Turning for the door she'd come through, she paused, noting another option. It was probably locked, but curiosity had her trying the handle anyway. It opened smoothly, revealing a descending staircase. Possibly down to the training arena?
Since it didn't look like anyone else was coming for a session, Darcy followed it down, reaching another unlocked door that did, in fact, open out to where the soldiers had been not long ago.
Running her finger over the bright paint adorning the wall, she was surprised to find it already dry. The color even appeared to be fading, especially the sunny yellow shots Sunstreaker had taken. Looking closer at the spots of unpainted wall, the layers of gunmetal gray almost appeared….random and splotted, like it'd been paintball shots itself.
"I designed the ammunition to replicate the blast radius each bot's weapons are capable of, keeps the humans from getting comfortable taking close range hits. Paint fades to grey after a few hours, makes it so we don't have to clean this place every time," a deep voice resonated behind her. Darcy whirled, expecting an Autobot, and frowning at a familiar human face. Familiar, but not one that she had ever seen in person before. A holoform for certain, but whose?
Turning back to the wall and surrounding obstacles, she noticed the yellow shots from the frontliner were significantly larger than the lime green that had been Bulkhead's paintball colors.
"I thought Wreckers delivered bigger hits?" she asked, turning away from the paint and towards the newcomer sporting the resemblance of one Robin Williams.
He flashed a winning smile at her, head nodding eagerly. "Exactly, biggerhits, but their firepower is lessened due to the strain of maintaining a larger mass. Frontliners like Sunny use their guns as a primary weapon, so it's stronger. Not like Ironhide's of course, but a speedster has a longer range than a Wrecker."
Huh, go figure. She raised a brow as she looked over the holoform, hosting a suspicion of who he was. "And where does your firepower register?"
Damn it all, the less she knew…
He waved his hand in a 'so-so' motion. "Middle range, though I prefer using my inventions to turn the tide."
There was only one so far that she'd heard off who liked to create new things from nothing, but he jumped ahead before she could venture a guess, sweeping a bow as he did so. "Wheeljack, at your service."
Which explained the younger visage of the late comedian, complete with glasses and vest. The Autobot inventor had chosen a holoform of another inventor, albeit a fictional one. Hopefully he wouldn't push the mimicry too far, they didn't need to end up with a green Flubber bouncing around the base. Nowthatwould get under Prowl's plates in no time.
For a second, she wondered if Sideswipe was aware of the movie. Roughly shoving the thought aside, she tipped her head in mutual greeting. "Darcy Blake at yours."
"Oh I know," Wheeljack straightened, adjusting the glasses that had slipped down his nose, though they ended up more askew than before. "In fact, I've been working on a new tool for the human charges…"
"Absolutelehnot," Jazz cut in as he strut across the arena, deftly weaving between and over obstacles as if he'd done it a thousand times. Darcy would dare say he looked smoother doing it than either the Wrecker or frontliner before had. Just what was a saboteur's weakness against humans?
No, she didn't need to know or work it out. She wouldn't be here long enough for it to matter.
"It doesn't explode!" Wheeljack defended with a hint of a whine to his voice, pouting and looking for all the world like a child told there was no ice cream left on the planet.
"No, it ain'tsupposedta explode. Ge' all the bugs out andthenwe'll talk volunteers." Jazz crossed his arms over his chassis and stared down at the holoform.
Wheeljack visibly deflated, blowing out a disappointed sigh. "Yes you are right, of course. But it was nothing likethat. I simply need a few drops of blood!"
He looked hopefully at Darcy, who took a sharp step back. Jazz shook his head, "Ge' it from Lennox if ya must."
The inventor gave one last look to the detective before shrugging, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Yes, yes, that will work fine. Of course Icouldalways….no no, ah, but that could work. Perhaps if I just….no….yes. Hmm, excuse me."
Darcy blinked back the image of Knock Out with his syringe, pulled back before the memory could truly take over by the bewilderment of the sudden change in the inventor. One moment he was the epitome of a kicked puppy and the next he was as giddy as a child with a new toy, talking seemingly to himself and only barely remembering to address them one last time as the holoform faded out.
"What was that?" she asked, lightly shaking her head to clear the last of the red from her vision.
"Tha' was 'ole Jackie. Don' mind 'im too much, 'is mind is always on a hundred differen' projects. 'E's only dangerous in the lab and humans ain't allowed near it." His tone held a warning to not even try looking for it. An unnecessary warning, as the detective had no intentions of going anywhere near the inventions of an alien, particularly creations that stood a good chance ofexploding.
At least the saboteur looked a great deal less tense than the last time she'd seen him, Perhaps it was really nothing after all…
"Do you know where Prowl is? He asked me to find him after." Subtler than before, but Jazz's posture tightened the moment the question left her lips.
Then again, perhaps it was.
Jazz tipped his head as if he was looking for something. Whatever it was, she couldn't say if he was disappointed in finding it or not. Releasing a vent she didn't understand, Jazz shifted to gesture back towards the door he'd come through. "'E's in the conference room. Jus'...don' let 'im push ya inta anythin' a'ight?"
"Yeah, uh, alright." With those words of warning rattling around in her mind, Darcy navigated her way across the arena and out through the large doors meant for the Autobots. On the other side she found a vaguely familiar hallway. She'd been downthisway before, only the bay doors she'd just come through had always been closed. A staircase opened up to her right and she hesitated before it. She'd never intentionally made her way back to the conference room before and she didn't have her phone on her to use the tracking app. Shecouldgo back to her room for it, but she didn't want to leave Prowl waiting for too long.
She took the stairs. The medical bay wasn't too far from here. Worse case scenario she could always ask Ratchet for directions.
No, she'd go back to her room for the phone before she resorted tothat.
Neither option ended up necessary, as the staircase led her up straight to a single door labeled 'Conference'. If there happened to be more than one on the base...well it wouldn't be the first time she'd interrupted a meeting.
The door opened up to the catwalk she'd remembered before, only now she was looking at it from a different angle. It'd been a backway in, but she'd found her way anyway.
Prowl was there, the mass of screens before him sporting only a NEST logo as he focused on something that looked like a giant tablet in his hands.
"Detective, I trust your time observing was illuminating," he greeted, vaguely gesturing with one hand for her to come around to join him without looking up from the steroid-infused touch screen.
"That's one way to put it." It would take a lie to say she didn't feel a little empowered to know that humans could take them down, with the right weapons and know-how. A single person couldn't do much, but they could use a Cybertronian's strengths against them; could potentially avoid capture if they knew their enemy well enough. "You said there was something else?"
Prowl finally looked up from the tablet screen she couldn't see, nodding towards the conference table still pressed up against the railing. On it sat six evidence boxes, pristine in condition but all looking near full to bursting. "Yes. You indicated that a return to normalcy would aid in your mental recovery. You also expressed a wish to continue with your line of work."
She blinked at the boxes and the thousands of sheets of paper they no doubt individually held. "Is this...is this allonecase?"
Sure she'd wanted to get back in the saddle of detective work, but just how good did he think she was?! Even all the caseload of the dumping ground victims and the remaining missing had taken up onlytwoboxes by the end.
And if it was all separate cases...then he was either grossly overestimating her abilities to solve a crime without ever being at the scene or interviewing witnesses, or he was underestimating her willingness to leave once her month was up.
"Literally speaking, no, there is no official connection between them all, but in the end, yes, this is all one case." He was watching her acutely. Enough so it made her skin itch, as if he'd started a scan.
She knew what he meant.
Victims across the country.
Victims with no clear connection to each other or a perp.
Victims who officials all considered separate cases.
Victims of the Decepticons.
He wasn't just asking her to get back in the saddle, he was asking her to climb back on the horse that had bucked her off into a brick wall.
The thought made her blood run hot and cold all at once, icing over her hands while her heart attempted to beat its way out of her chest.
"Prowl...I...what do you expect of me with this?" Surely he didn't actually need her. It was an olive branch of sorts. A way for her to get back into detective work with nothingrealbehind it. He'd already made the connections he needed to, drawn the conclusions that were there. This was all just...a dry run, a practice. It had to be.
Prowl's gaze burned and she refused to meet it, staring at the boxes that called her as much as they repulsed her. She wanted to look. She wanted to run.
"We know that Decepticons are ultimately responsible, we know that some of the victims were taken out of opportunity while others were targeted for their familial NEST connections. But others I believe were targeted without those connections and I cannot postulate as to why. Nor can we get a firm enough location of their other bases to move against them."
He was lying. He had to be. It was just to make her feel useful, to urge her to do it. His brain was a super computer, there was no way he hadn't thought of everything and come up with the most probable answer. "Any working theories?"
His head cocked slightly to one side. "A few, weak at best I am afraid. I would rather not skew your thinking from the start by sharing just yet."
A tricky bastard he was. Basically confirming what she thought while alsonotindicating he had a solid lead.
"I'm not a profiler and I don't...I don't know the Decepticons enough to be able to predict why they might be doing what they're doing." She worried her lower lip with her teeth, a hand reaching out for the closest box, retreating before touching the cardboard. She shouldn't. She should be focusing onhumanonly cases. Helping people she could actually stand a chance to help.
There were so many here. So many who could be alive, praying for rescue, so many families, desperate for answers.
"Then do not think of them as such. You know what they are capable of, but for now, consider their motivations as if humans had them. We are not so different, our species, in how we think and act. The conclusions you might consider for human criminals may be relevant for their plans. It was you who discovered the NEST connection before. I am asking only that you give it a look, in case you may see something that I have missed." There it was, pulling the trump card and all but making the decision for her.
It was just a look. Just looking at what they had and comparing notes once she was finished. Whether she saw anything differently from the tactician or not, he would take that information to his leader and they would do whatever they needed to do. It was just looking at paper while safely tucked away on a secure base under a dam. She wouldn't even have to step outside.
It was just a look.
Releasing a sigh, she dropped her chin for a moment to curse herself before looking up to meet Prowl's gaze. "Fine, I'll look at it. Do I have to do it all here?"
Half a conference table looking out over a massive hangar was hardly the kind of setting she was used to working in. The severity of his gaze softened considerably, the doorwings on his back dipping down a margin. "Of course not. Human sized offices abound in this structure. I am certain I could negotiate…"
Raising her hands to end his line of thought before it could finish, Darcy shook her head. "No, no office, please. I'll take them to my room. It'll….it'll be easier to work there."
That scrutinizing look was back in a flash and for a moment she wondered if he would refuse, but after a pause, he dipped his chin in a single nod. "I shall arrange for the files to be delivered to your quarters."
Her skin continued to itch, the space around them feeling too damn large and empty. "It's okay, I can make a few trips."
Grabbing the first box before she could retract her hand again, she almost immediately regretted the offer. Full to bursting it definitely was and because of that, the damn thing washeavy. She grunted as she adjusted her grip, propping the box on her hip. "It'll be good for me."
Prowl made the motion of raising a brow, his tone equally lighter than earlier but edged with warning. "I do not believe Ratchet would approve of you straining yourself so."
Darcy was already backing towards the door. The trips to the little-used makeshift gym had steadily been building back her strength, but she still had miles to go before she was back to the condition she'd been at before her capture. Already it pulled awkwardly at her shoulder. Gritting her teeth, she pushed through the doorway. "Then don't tell Ratchet."
While strongly doubting the mech would listen if he felt informing the medic was necessary in any way, she could only hold out hope that hewouldn'tthink it necessary.
Turned out her mind was more prepared for the task than her body and she was forced to take several breaks along the way, hefting the box from one side to the other and then back again. Why oh why did they have to make these boxes capable of holding so much paper? Eventually, she made it, breathing hard, arms shaking, and shoulder screaming at the abuse as she dropped the box onto the kitchen counter.
One down, five to go.
Groaning, Darcy decided against immediately going for another. She would get them and drag them over eventually, but first she'd take a peak at what she was in for and just what she'd agreed to expose herself to. Stealing herself, she pried off the lid, tossing it carelessly to the side as she took in the mass of manila folders now exposed. Some hosted only a few sheets of paper while others boasted extensive pages of information to wade through. It took several more steadying breaths to reach in and pull the first file out. Nothing on the front but a name and location.
Her hand shook as it hovered over the edge. Clenching her fist, she willed the nerves to calm. It didn't work, but she forced herself to grip the corner and flip it open.
And promptly dove back into the horror.
Chapter 21: Intent to Harm
Chapter Text
"If you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you" ~Friedrich Nietzsche
Four tries.
It took four tries before Darcy could look at the file without seeing images flash behind her eyes. Things that happened, things that didn't, all of them terrible.
Another three before she got control of the wave of nausea that threatened to overtake her.
Two more before her eyes could settle enough to read more than a single line.
And twenty-seven minutes.
Twenty-seven minutes before the shaking and the sweating eased, before she could read a line and retain the information, before she could look at the images with the eyes of a detective and not a terrified woman. It felt impossible to be objective, to let go of the pain long enough to focus on those still possibly going through it. They could all be dead, as tortured and mangled as the victim in that first file had been. Maybe they were already doomed.
But maybe they weren't. Maybe some of them stood a chance if, like her, the cavalry came just in time.
The cavalry just needed to know where to go.
Maybe Prowl was right, maybe she could see something he didn't, however small the odds. Maybe, like the paintballs finding a crack in the armor, she just had to find thatonething that would point the way to their enemy and to the people who needed them.
It was easier then, to look at the files, at the faces of people missing or dead, to let the anger build with every case pulled from the box. They were ordered alphabetically, in true Prowl fashion. He was revealing none of the patterns he had seen himself, influencing none of her own theories as they began to build, collapse, and build again.
A knock on the door had her jerking upright, spine popping as it protested the poor posture she'd had leaning over the files. She was going to need a map, she thought idly, and colored pins. Too many files to remember all of the locations and to be able to visualize them properly. The one back home had been good, but she'd need even bigger this time.
The knock came again, more insistent and Darcy stiffly shuffled towards it, a sheepish tinge of regret that she'd let herself forget about it so quickly.
"Jazz?" she questioned the holoform on the other side, frowning at the five boxes stacked neatly next to her door. "Did you bring those?"
It would have been good for her to get them herself, but she was grateful.
He shrugged loosely, but she noted even Shemar Moore was looking stiffer than usual. What could be bothering him? "It was on my way."
Her gaze turned sharply up to his too blue eyes on hearing the accent toned down so much. This was not a business as usual house call.
"Well, thank you. Want to come in?" She stepped to the side to offer him room to pass, even as a part of her mourned the loss of solitude to work.
"Nah, came to retrieve ya for our scheduled coffee date." Even the grin he flashed her looked forced.
"I...I've got a lot of work to do…" Alien business was not her business. It was something totally unrelated to anything she had any right to know about. It wasn't like they were exactlyfriends. Friendlyyes, but in a way to give her what information she needed to heal and get the hell out of here.
Jazz 'tsked'under his breath, sweeping out an arm to wrap around her shoulders and steer her firmly out the door. "Nuh uh, I ain't a ditchable date, Baby Girl. Besides, a break would be good for ya."
Once she'd questioned how much of holoform expression could be faked, but now, pressed against Jazz's fake side, she instead wondered if they perhaps had ahardertime hiding their emotions in such a state. He was taunt as a drawn bowstring, the tension across his shoulders tight enough to snap. This was not a version of Jazz she had seen before and she wasn't sure what to do. So she let him guide her to the cafeteria in thick silence, collected her coffee, and obediently followed his lead. It didn't appear obvious that he had a specific destination in mind, yet the wandering was not quite aimless enough that he didn't have some idea of where he wanted to be.
At some point his real body rolled in behind them, but when exactly she couldn't say. He idled along in almost eerie silence compared to what she knew his engine usually sounded like. Hell, his whole frame appeared to sit lower, an impressive feat given how little clearance Porsche's had in general.
Up inclined switchbacking ramps he led her, not saying a word. Finally they reached the end, the last ramp opening up to an exposed rooftop. Where exactly they were in relation to the dam itself, she couldn't say. Despite a high vantage point, all she could see was rocks, blue water, and the exterior structure of the base. On the other side of the sparkling blue lake, a collection of cars and tourists.
For once not wanting it but having nothing better to do with herself, Darcy took a sip of her coffee, grimacing at finding it had already cooled considerably. The sun reaching out towards the horizon was warm, but not overly hot. It was the kind of sun that peaked out at the last moment after a cloudy cool day, a shot of warmth, of promises for tomorrow, of a splash of light and color before giving way to darkness. Darcy hadn't realized it was so late in the day. It'd been hard, keeping track of time while inside. The time on the clock meant little and less to her each day.
Still Jazz did not break the silence, his holoform leaning against the rail while his body sat just as quietly behind them, soaking in the sun and waiting for...something.
Something that was not apparently coming any time soon. Darcy didn't know what to say, if she should let the silence persist or if she should try to fill it like he had always done for her before. Yet the only thoughts bouncing around her head were the details of the cases she'd been going over. Not the best conversation topic for a somber mood.
"Jazz," she braved once the sun slipped beyond the horizon, the last light painting the clouds vibrant shades of pink and purple. "Are you alright?"
The holoform flashed a weak smile that didn't last. "'M a'ight, Baby Girl, don' go worrin' about meh."
Whatever it was, he didn't want to talk about it. It was none of her business. It could be an alien problem or a NEST problem or a personal issue with someone else, in any of those cases, it wasn't her business to know. She'd pushed for information she didn't have a right to before, it would be better to just leave it be. If he felt like telling her, he would in his own time.
He'd never pushed her, she shouldn't push him.
And yet...
Despite being a robotic alien, Darcy realized that she hadn't been as able to keep him at arm's length as she'd thought. She did consider Jazz a friend. Not just a friendly acquaintance or a source of intel when she needed it, she'd grown to care about him...well...as a person. It bothered her to see the usually happy-go-lucky Autobot so sullen. The urge to fix it ate at her, to make it better or at the least put a real smile on his face.
Despite all of her attempts to keep them carefully distanced, he'd weaseled his way into her heart anyway.
Setting the coffee on the thick banister, she turned to lean back, crossing her arms over her chest as her gaze rolled over the holoform and the Autobot himself.
"I won't press, but I'm here if you do want to talk about it. You're my friend, Jazz, so tell me not to worry all you want, it won't work." She gave him a soft smile as he blinked at her, surprise flashing over his face.
Pushing himself off the rail, he faced her, opening his arms and gesturing for her to come closer. She stepped into his embrace, wrapping her arms about his waist as he enclosed his around her. Such an amazing thing, she thought, pressing her cheek against his chest while he laid his on top of her head, that this fake body could feel soreal. He was as warm as any person should be, his chest rising and falling with every breath, a strong pulse audible to the ear pressed against him.
It made her wonder if a species made of metal felt touch the same way humans did, if they were as reliant on it for their sanity. As Jazz just stood there holding her, taking long breaths, she could no longer tell who was offering comfort to who.
"Don' let Prowler push ya inta anythin ya not ready for," he rumbled softly.
"I won't," she promised, her gut telling her that this wasn't the heart of what was bothering him. How could it be? All she was doing was looking at the files. It was a consult, nothing more. Certainly no reason for the saboteur to be out of sorts.
After several long moments, Jazz pulled away with a wince, gesturing back towards himself. "'Ole Hatchet is hollerin' for meh, betta not put 'im off any longer. Need a lift?"
An offer she'd refused a dozen times before in favor of her own two legs, an offer for her to stretch her circle of trust.
"Sure." Which of them was more surprised she couldn't say, but the genuine smile he flashed her for it made it all worth it.
His driver side door popped open, inviting her into the warm, tan-leather interior.
"Uh uh, I've got to ensure you keep your speed at asane level." Maybe she really did trust him or maybe some of that brazeness that had gotten her into trouble in the past was finally starting to come back. Whatever it was, she ignored his open door to perch herself on his hood.
Jazz huffed in amusement, his holoform shifting to join her. "Hatch' won' like the delay."
Nothing to his tone indicated it was truly a serious matter, so Darcy let herself roll with the lighter mood, satisfied that Jazz appeared more relaxed. "Ratchet can have you when I'm done with you."
He barked a laugh, tilting his head back as the Porsche under her rumbled along with it. "I dare ya to say tha' to 'im."
Darcy snorted, rolling her eyes. "No thanks, I chooselife."
His rumbling laugh continued, the sound of his engine reaching its usual pitch.
Darcy shot a hand out against his hood as he started to roll forward. "Wait! My coffee."
Sliding off the hood, she stood to recover the abandoned beverage. Jazz paused, a light whirring coming behind her that usually went along with a transformation. Curious, she glanced over her shoulder, only to blink at the minigun poking out of his headlight. "Uh, Jazz?"
"Jus' wait a second." The little gun adjusted back and forth before firing a single shot, the projectile flying about as fast as if it had been fired from a slingshot. A screw? It struck the nearly full cup with a fair amount of force, sending it toppling over the edge.
Fruitlessly, Darcy dove forward, attempting and failing to catch it before it disappeared from view. "Jazz!"
Leaning over the edge sent her stomach straight into her throat. It was a fair ways down, but more importantly, directly below-far below-was a retracted opening to a part of the base she hadn't seen yet. There was no mis-identifying the hulking black mass that happened to be walking by.
The innocent little cup, still nearly full of cold coffee, struck and disintegrated directly over Ironhide's head, dumping its contents down the panels and no doubt straight into some sensitive circuits, if the roar that came from him was anything to go by. Rolling cannons and furious blue eyes reared skyward. With a squeak, Darcy jerked back, knowing it was probably too late to have gone unnoticed.
"What the hell, Jazz!" She slapped his grill as his entire frame shook with laughter he didn't try to conceal. "I'm actively tryingnotto make enemies here anddefinitelynot get involved in any prank wars!"
He continued to laugh as she resumed her place on his hood, forcing a pout that twitching lips threatened to reveal was fake. "Heh, couldn' let Sides' get credit fo' bein' ya first."
She groaned, dropping her face into her hands. "He told you he was blackmailing me?"
The car tilted slightly under her and she got the odd impression it was a car version of a shrug. "Gotta get ya in the game somehow."
She glared back at the windshield, flicking the glass. "Whyme?"
"'Cause it'll annoy Prowler the most."
Of course, gettinghermixed up in a prank war was in and of itself a prank against Prowl. He was just going tolovethis.
"If Ironhide so much aslooksin my direction, I'm throwing you under the bus immediately." Despite her full intention to do just that, Jazz continued to chuckle as he rolled down the ramp and back under the plain white lights of the base.
"I would expect nothin' less."
He dropped her as close to her room as the Porsche could get, leaving her with an order to not over work herself and a promise to be back for their regularly scheduled coffee date tomorrow. Despite the horror awaiting her in the boxes outside her door, she felt lighter and more able to face it all objectively.
So much so that she made it through all of three more files before walking right back out of her room, phone in hand as she followed the indicator to her intended target. A million jumbled thoughts raced through her mind until she found herself outside of the conference room door, hand raised as if to knock. She hesitated. No doubt there was an important reason Prowl was in there right now and he wasn't alone. Optimus Prime's signal registered right next to him. She chewed her lip, taking a step back. What she wanted was neither immediately crucial or important enough to interrupt a meeting that could be about stopping the Decepticons.
She could make due with what she had until the Autobot was unoccupied, heck, maybe there was even a storage area that had what she needed lying around.
Turning to head back to her room and the files, she startled as the door swung open behind her.
"Darcy?" Major Will Lennox looked surprised to see her there and there was not a little amount of relief that flashed over his face as he briefly looked her over. They hadn't really seen each other since the debrief, other than sporadic moments of catching a glimpse here and there.
"Major, how have you been?" She gave him the same cursory look over he'd just given her as he stepped fully through the doorway and closed it behind him, motioning for her to walk with him. She did as he bid, silently noting that he appeared to have recovered much faster. Of course, he held trust in every man and Autobot here, he'd known what he was getting into. As a soldier, he might have even seen such horrible things before.
No, the longer she looked, the more she saw the familiar haunted look reflecting back at her. He may not have had to adjust to the Autobots or have as many physical injuries to recover from, but he wasn't over what they'd been forced to witness. He simply knew how to handle it enough he didn't wander the halls in solitude.
"I should be asking the same of you. I'm sorry I didn't find you sooner, I should have." While he did look completely sincere in his regret for not coming to find her to help her 'settle in', she could not help but notice he neatly avoided the question himself.
Which in of itself was an answer to how well he was dealing with the emotional fallout.
About as well as her.
"I hardly expected you to seek me out, you've got a base to run and had to recover yourself."
"Still, I'm sorry I wasn't around to help you adjust. I know it can be…..jarring meeting the Autobots, especially with so many of them on base."
"Jarring is one way to put it," Maybe she really had wandered aimlessly and without paying attention to her surroundings more than she was aware of, but she was surprised to still be finding Autobots she'd hadn't met yet, though it felt like she was seeing some of them less often than before. "Are there not always so many?"
Lennox shook his head lightly, "We've got a main base where they can walk around topside, they can get a bit claustrophobic too, but most of them came straight here after Barricade took you."
"Took me?" She'd known it'd have had to been quite a force to lead an attack on the Decepticon base in the mountains, but she'd figured the Autobots had been around waiting for Prowl's call.
Lennox nodded, "We knew it'd only be a matter of time before we got a fix on their location, so they all came here to be ready to mobilize once your badge made it out from under the mountain."
He winced even as he said it, a shadow of pain rising behind his eyes. Darcy felt her own gut twist as her mind replayed the gunshots, the screams, the death it had taken to get that badge out of the tunnels.
"Prowl does like his trackers," she mused in a poor attempt to steer her thoughts away from the past.
"You have no idea," Lennox snorted, absentmindedly rubbing his hip before pausing, his head cocked. "Was there something you needed from him?"
Darcy shrugged, "I was hoping he would let me leave the base so I could get a few things for working on the cases he gave me."
Certainly nothing worth interrupting a meeting for.
Lennox came to a complete halt, turning to face her with confusion etched across his face. "Let you….have you not left the base since our rescue?"
"He's taken me out twice," she assured the moment she recognized the look of guilt crossing the older man's face. It wasn't his fault that he didn't know, he had a base to run and she was just one person, not even a member of NEST.
The Major rolled his head back, releasing a heavy sigh before motioning her to follow in a different direction. "They mean well, they really do, but not all of the Autobots understand human need for open air."
"Where are we going?" She only knew of one location in this direction but could think of no reason forthatAutobot's involvement.
"Ratchet." Her steps stuttered. Despite the medic's strict adherence to the oath of 'first do no harm', his bedside manner still scared the piss out of her. For the most part she'd been able to avoid him, what with Prowl taking over her regular scans that had thankfully been reducing in frequency.
"Uh, why?" She hoped her nervousness didn't show too much, though she was fairly certain Lennox caught it anyway.
"Medical clearance. Once he gives you the okay to leave base on your own, only a direct order from myself or Prime can negate it." Well, both ProwlandJazz had failed to mention that.
"What about the Decepticons?" They were the biggest concern of course, going out on her own would leave her vulnerable, exposed.
He grimaced lightly, "I won't lie to you, they're a threat and they're around where you least expect them, but we can at least minimize the risk with our altered civilian cars."
The image of her totaled SUV and Crown Vic flashed behind her eyes, drawing a rueful chuckle. "I don't have the best track record with keeping cars in one piece."
The Major snorted a laugh, flashing her an amused grin. "Neither do I, but sometimes even I need my space from Ironhide, especially when he smells like old coffee."
"That was all Jazz, Iswear." No way inhellwas she about to take credit for that.
Lennox barked an easy laugh, "Oh he knows, but to be on the safe side, you might want to skip your coffee date tomorrow."
He shot her a wink that clearly indicated Ironhide was not one who served his revenge cold and she immediately started thinking of excuses Jazz might actually take for her to back out of their 'date'.
As the door to the medbay came into view, her thoughts turned back towards the one who'd more or less been in charge of her outdoor escapades. "What about Prowl though? He's been the most against my leaving the base alone."
"IfProwlwants a say then he must claim Guardianship. Since he has not, the only authority you should concern yourself with ismine," Ratchet rumbled as they crossed the threshold into his medbay. The Autobot medic looked up from the scrap of metal he'd been hunched over, idly tossing a sheet over it. The action immediately drew Darcy's eyes to it and sparked her curiosity.
"Should I be concerned he might?" She stayed resolutely at Lennox's side, scratching the scabbed remains of Knock Out's touch as Ratchet's scanner rolled over her skin.
The medic looked at her carefully before offering only a half-hearted shrug, his attention on the read-outs on his arm. "Unclear. For being a logic-controlled 'bot, even I can't always predict what he'll do. How has your rest been, Ms. Blake?"
Shifting her weight, she eyed Lennox in her peripheral, but he appeared to be studiously not paying attention, focusing on whatever was on the tablet in his hand. "Improving."
Not a lie, she was actually happy to admit. The nightmares certainly hadn't disappeared, but sometimes...sometimes they ended with a rescue at the last second and once she'd even had a dream that was completely harmless; just Prowl as his holoform, making comments about her empty cupboards while rocking yellow and red hair.
Ratchet grumbled over his readouts for several minutes before finally giving a single stiff nod. "I declare you fit and no longer requiring regular scans and check-ins. Now get out of my medbay."
Not willing to tempt the irate Autobot, Darcy swiftly turned on her heel, much, she noted, to the amusement of Lennox.
"What?" she asked once they were out of the medic's immediate earshot.
The soldier shook his head with a light chuckle, "I don't get you sometimes. Ratchet scares everyone but you've got no problem decking probablythescariest mech here."
She raised a brow, snorting. "Prowl is not scary. A little intimidating? Yes, but not scary."
"There are many who would disagree with you." Lennox declared evenly, his tone indicating that 'many' really meant 'most everyone who knew him'.
"Are you one of those?"
"Yes I am one of thesaneones."
"Says the guy who's buddies with theweapons specialist." Really, Ironhide wasleaguesmore intimidating thanProwl. The tactician could be irritatingly obnoxious with his logic, but the black mech packed damncannonsaround.
"Touche." he mused with a chuckle before falling silent, offering nothing about where he was taking her.
"Not that I'm not loving the human interaction, but where are we going?"
"Like I said, if you're going to leave the base, you're going to need a ride that isn't sentient."
"I really do appreciate this, don't get me wrong, but...whyare you doing this?"
Lennox paused and for a moment the exhaustion of charge flashed across his face, the weariness of battle, the strain of the world bearing down on shoulders already overburdened. "Because you're a civilian. You didn't sign up for this and yet we're asking you to deal with it anyway. The least we can do is help you transition back to that life."
She cocked her head. "Prowl told you he got me to stay a month, didn't he?"
The soldier pursed his lips and she knew there was more to it than just that. "It's been brought up in our meetings."
"So has something else."
"You're too sharp for your own good, you know that?"
"And you're avoiding."
"Trying to. I promise it's nothing for you to worry about. Ah here we go." Signing into a computer tucked against the corner of the hanger that housed a fair number of NEST and civilian cars, the soldier typed away for a few minutes while Darcy distracted herself from contemplating just what else was brought up in those meetings by looking at the cars. Some of them were nice,reallynice.
"Dare I ask why a military organization has need of a Lamborghini?" With the flashy red paint job that just screamed 'look at me!', she couldn't deny it was a beautiful looking car. One that would give her insurance company a heart attack if she so much as laid a single finger on it.
Lennox snorted. "The Autobots can't just pick a car at random for their alt mode, they have to have the real deal to scan. Most of them took the first thing they came across when they landed and are starting to request upgrades to models they like better."
"You mean they can just….change what they change into?"Nowhow in the hell was she supposed to be able to tell them apart from a real car once she got out of here?! Looking for a car model she knew would be pointless if they could just change it on a whim!
"They can, but they don't do it too often. I think most of them get attached. They're more likely to upgrade to the newest year of the same model than to completely change cars."
"So who picked the lambo?"
"Sideswipe. He's been complaining his brother has the better alt mode since they reunited last year." His smile flashed mischievous. "He doesn't know it's here yet. Part of Prowl's punishment for the prank was putting off his upgrade for a week."
Darcy blinked once before laughing, giving a light shake of her head. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say Prowl has a twisted sense of humor."
"More like a twisted sense ofjustice, but I suppose that's semantics. Ah-ha, here we go. It's not a lambo, but it'll give you a bit more security while also being inconspicuous." He handed her a set of car keys, leading the way further into the hanger and towards a small collection of ordinary cars. Hitting the lock on the fob, the lights on a dark grey Buick Rainier flashed back at her. The car was at least six years old, the windows adorn with a couple of random stickers. She wasn't clean, she wasn't new, she was utterly ordinary. "You'll be able to use this whenever while you're here. There's a chip in the hood that alerts the bay doors to open for you and a panic button on the steering wheel that'll send out a distress signal to the base and any nearby Autobots."
Knocking her knuckles on the hood, she found the material was harder than it looked. Reinforced to take a hit. It might not stand up to a full on Decepticon attack, but it might just hold up for the minutes that counted.
Certainly wouldn't have to worry about any fender benders.
"I'm assuming the Autobots can track it at any time?" It wasn't a total escape to freedom, but in this case, that was the sacrifice to gain a modicum of safety.
"They're lojacked if you're thinking of making a run for it." He stated dryly, a note of jest to his tone. "But a lot of the soldiers use them for personal trips on their off hours so we don't generally keep tabs on where you go with them."
"Thank you, Major, really."
"Just remember this appreciation when you're signing twenty-seven secrecy contracts." He grinned ruefully, chuckling at her shocked look.
"Twenty-seven?"
"Blame the politicians in charge of all this. Technically those are all supposed to be signed before you even step foot into public again, but we can take care of the paperwork in the morning. It's a nice night and I need some shut eye." He winked, turning on his heel and striding leisurely out of the hangar.
Darcy looked down at the keys in her hand, then the innocent SUV sitting quietly next to her. She'd left her room looking for a map and colored pins, she had cases and cases of files to work through, needed to get through.
The car turned over smoothly, the interior the exact temperature as the outside air. Not living, this car was just a car.
The detective didn't know what time it was and she didn't bother checking the clock on the radio. No voice came from the dash, only the soft croon of a country singer. She let it play as the hangar doors opened smoothly for her, beckoning her into the night. She didn't know where she was going, but the moment the tires hit the highway, she had an idea. Stars danced overhead, the clouds that had covered much of the sky at sunset having moved on. The moon was barely a sliver, a thin strip of light in a dark sky. Following the signs, she soon found herself at the same salt flats she'd once dashed across with Prowl. She did not go far this time, just far enough not to be seen from the road. Turning the key killed the engine completely, sending her into complete blindness as the headlights shut off. Her eyes failed to pick up even the hand in front of her face.
It was an eerie feeling, stepping out of the car, and a chill she hadn't expected zapped her bones. Should have grabbed a jacket.
Closing her eyes, she felt her way around the front and leaned against the hood. Deep breaths, one, two, three, she held still until she became aware of her heartbeat and then until it slowed to a steady rhythm.
Then she opened her eyes.
The Milky Way stole her breath, putting on a display unlike any she'd ever seen before. Billions of stars danced across a backdrop that was too well-covered to really be called black. The sliver of moonlight was hardly worth noting, a drip on the painter's canvas of a masterpiece. Stars and galaxies hung like diamonds and the longer she looked, the more she saw. Sometimes the north had clear nights, sometimes even the arm of their own galaxy was visible, but the north was dotted with mountains and rugged forests that though beautiful, took over much of the visible sky. Not here, not on the salt flats. Here there was nothing to obstruct the night sky in any direction and the heavens did not squander the extra space. If she didn't look down at the empty blackness of the ground, she might even believe she was alone in the universe, surrounded by nothing but stars.
Which of those stars held a dead planet within its gravitational grasp? Where in the galaxy did home lie for Prowl and the others?
And how many of those other stars flashing overhead hosted planets with life? The veil had been lifted, they were no longer alone in the universe, the odds of humans and Cybertronians being the only advanced life now seemed like a ludicrous idea. How many others were out there? How many were metal-based? Organic? Hell, there could be sentientrocksout there for all she knew.
A painted sky and a universe of possibilities. It all made her feel so infinitesimally small and unimportant. What were her problems, her accomplishments, herlifespan, to the great expanse of space? Hardly a blip, a flare of only a few moments and gone again.
Somehow...somehow that feeling was comforting. Like the weight of the world had just been lifted from her shoulders. She didn't matter, what she did or did not do, in the end, mattered nothing to the galaxy
It mattered only to the people living right now and that was all that was important.
Headlights flashed behind her, dimming even as the growl of a powerful engine came nearer. The sound was just a little different from the others, a little rougher than that of the sports cars, a little softer than the massive trucks, a fine middle ground.
His headlights went out completely as Prowl pulled up next to her, the hiss of hydraulics the only sign he'd engaged his transformation sequence. She saw him only by the part of the sky his massive frame blocked, his blue eyes leaving her to follow her gaze to the heavens.
"I was...concerned when you left the base so late and I wondered if I had not pushed you too far by requesting your assistance with the cases," he finally explained after long moments looking at the sky, he kept his gaze upward, the glow from his optics nearly drowned out by the stars dancing behind him.
"No," Darcy answered softly, her mind refusing to release the peaceful trance it had finally found. "I didn't plan to come out here, I just...ended up here. I've never seen stars like this."
Maybe he nodded, she thought she heard him move at least, though she couldn't see it. "It is….a view unlike any on Cybertron."
She glanced at where she knew he was. So far Jazz had been the only one really willing to talk about home, and even then he'd gone over it briefly. He covered events more than he did the place itself.
Little wonder, the planet was dead. Home was lost to them, forever.
"Really?" she asked quietly. He didn't have to go into it if he didn't want to, but the option was there.
Warm air rolled over her face as he vented softly. "The planet was the source of our energon stores, our fuel for us, for everything. It ran through the planet, sometimes so thickly in places that they always looked like daylight. Between the energon and the moons, very few places were dark enough to see outside of our own system."
"Do you ever miss it?" Of course he did, but he never talked about it. Maybe it hurt too much to do so, maybe his memory was soured by the war and destruction. When he thought about it, did he see it as it was when he left it, or at its best?
"Often, always, no." Well if that wasn't the most confused answer she'd ever heard. "Cybertron was...there is no other place like it in the universe. My first memories are of the brilliantly lit cities, the lively streets. Our very buildings could move and shift to suit our needs when we had the energon to spare for it. But much like your world, peace is only peaceful on the surface. The war simply brought what was always happening out into the open, where no one could ignore it. There was much wrong with our planet, much that should have changed and some that never should have been, but it was and we paid the price for our arrogance."
He glanced down at her, those cerulean blues brighter than ever. "I miss Cybertron for everything it could have been, I miss it for the familiarity of home it will always have, but I do not miss the illusion the war shattered, I will never miss it. Earth is our home now, for as long as we are allowed. It is such a...unique planet. Your landscapes, your night skies, even some of your weather is like nothing any of us have seen before."
His head cocked to one side, turning back to the stars. "I will always remember the good of Cybertron fondly, but those memories will not sour my mood. Someday, perhaps, we will find a way to revive our planet, but I do not believe we should until we have ended this war and the reasons for its existence."
"Is there a way? To bring it back, I mean." Jazz had made it sound like that was one dead that was dead for good.
"I believe there is, but I do not put my hopes of the future into it. Something ties our two planets together and I endeavor to discover why they are so tightly bound."
"You might be searching for that answer for a long time."
"I am counting on it." He collapsed back into the Charger, slowly rolling backwards. "As a warning to be cautious would be unnecessary, I bid you goodnight. Be sure to get your rest, Detective."
The night reigned just a little quieter and colder after he was gone. Darcy looked at the stars again and wondered if she could ever stand to live on a planet other than Earth. If it had been destroyed, ruined beyond the point of saving, could she find purpose and peace somewhere else in the galaxy? Living at the total mercy of the host species?
She had to give silent props to Prowl and the rest of the Autobots, she didn't think she could do it and have the same positive attitude most of them tried to hold onto.
A chill swept down her exposed arms, eliciting a shiver; time to head back. Dragging one last look at the stars, Darcy marveled at just how large the universe really was and how little she had appreciated the fact before.
The base was quiet when she made it back and she found it easier to pile the files to the side and let herself sleep. Tomorrow she would be back at it with full dedication and limit her distractions.
It was not a routine she was allowed to develop, as only two days later, a cluster of soldiers cornered her in the cafeteria, inviting her to join them on a night on the town. Darcy couldn't say she knew any of them more than in passing, but it would be the chance to be with people away from the base. Acting on a whim, she accepted.
Now she was wondering if it was the smartest decision after all.
Socializing had never been a strong point in Darcy's character. She made a few close bonds to those she saw every day and that was about it. Oh she could interact with the public easily enough, but that was always on a professional basis, during one of the worst days of their lives. This was something entirely different. This was lively and cheerful and around civilians completely ignorant of secret wars, aliens, or bad news; of pretending they were those people themselves.
Darcy didn't know how to interact with them, so she didn't. Even as the soldiers that invited her along abandoned drinks for the dance floor, she tucked herself into a corner with a strong drink and just watched. The lightheartedness was infectious and she found herself laughing along as one of the men-upon being turned down by a pretty blonde at the bar-took up the hand of his friend, twirling the other man with as much gusto as he might have the woman.
Despite not taking part in the dancing, Darcy felt her spirits lift considerably, felt her mind clear.Thiswas why she did what she did, to protect this.
It did her good to remember that, to be reminded.
She'd have to come back again.
So she did. Every few nights she took the covert SUV out to a bar to see that innocence and carefreeness again.
Ratchet hated alcohol, well, not really, he hated that some of the humans didn't seem to know their limit, or imbibed just a little too often. If anyone came back smelling just a bit too strong or for the third time that week, they gained a rather unfavorable scowl from the medic. Oh he didn't say anything unless it was truly out of hand, but everyone swore he walked just a little louder whenever someone was visibly suffering from a hangover.
Darcy made certain to never have enough to have to worry about that; there wasn't aneedfor a drink, afterall, but it was a nice way to unwind after a day of staring at death and mutilation. It eased her mind to watch the carefree inhabitants dance and flirt and otherwise act like life was as normal as it had always been. More than once she brought a case or two along with her, to look over the details while enjoying a drink. The bartenders always shot her wary looks when she did it and she shifted to only bringing pages that had her notes scratched onto them. No pictures, no emblems, it looked as likely to be editing a paper as police work.
Oh she took precautions, varied the places she went, the times she left. There was no way to stop the need to check her rearview every few minutes, to sit with her back to a corner and keep an eye on those who came in.
She would not be caught unaware, but the time away from base was doing wonders for her state of mind.
Time passed more quickly this way, rhythm falling easily into place with the work. Get up, do a strength training circuit in the makeshift gym, shower, get breakfast and coffee, and dive into the cases. Jazz would steal her away around lunch, though sometimes another tagged along with them. Then it was back to the cases, fix something quick and edible for dinner, sometimes with the company of Prowl, afterwards she would compile the notes of the day, and then head out to a bar for a drink and to go over said notes.
It was hard to believe her month was almost up.
Hard to believe she was almost free to go home.
Hard to believe she'd figured outnothingof the Decepticons plans or whereabouts.
She growled over her notes, gaining a look from the bartender, who refilled her drink without a word. It just didn't make anysense.
A man sat next to her, she didn't bother to look up at him. They generally got the hint when she was sucked into her notes, so she ignored him, tapping her pen against her lip as she scowled at the pages in front of her.
There was definitely some significance to the locations where people were disappearing, but they couldn't count on that being definitive of a base or dumping ground being there. After the Cascade base was destroyed, they could be taking precautions, giving them false leads, or maybe they really were that spread out. Maybe the Decepticon army really was that much bigger than the Autobot.
"You can't let it go, can you? Even when you know there's only one ending for you." The man stated plainly, releasing a dark chuckle. Ice shot directly to her core, freezing her into complete stillness. She knew that voice, she knew that laugh that promised so much pain. Squeezing her eyes shut, she opened them slowly, hoping he would disappear. He didn't.
Raising her head, she met the eyes of Barricade's holoform.
Ofcoursethe psychopath would useJimGordon.
Heart hammering in her ears, Darcy dared to meet those dark red eyes and hold, even as her hands shook and a cold sweat broke out over her entire body.
Keep him occupied, she told herself, she just had to distract him long enough to reach the phone in her pocket, to hit the panic button on the homescreen that would open a direct comm channel to all nearby Autobots. Keep him thinking about something else, but don't piss him off enough to come storming into the bar in his real form, don't provoke an attack. She had no delusions that he wouldn't. He would level this entire block if he caught the fancy for it.
"There's only ever one ending for all of us, just a matter of when and how." Her voice betray her terror. Mirth flooded his eyes. She hated him, hated him with every fiber of her being. She let it flood her, let it take control and steady her tongue. "If I can help people before my end, all the better."
"Why? Your lifespan is a blink, so is theirs. It means nothing, so why do it?" He cocked his head as if genuinely curious. A ruse, a trick to get her to let down her guard. Her hand eased ever closer to the phone.
"Because it's the right thing to do."
He shook his head before she'd even finished,tuttingher. "Not good enough. Who the frag cares what the right thing to do is? Who decides whatisright? What's right for me you'd say was bad for you."
He flashed her a grin of promised malice and she found it hard to draw in a steady breath.
Swallowing thickly, her fingers scraped the shell of her jacket, feeling the outline of the phone. So close, just a little longer and then help would be on the way.
The bartender pointedly did not return or look over to their side of the bar and she cursed Barricade's holoform for wearing a patrol uniform.
"If it leaves something or someone better than you found it, that's what decides what is right," she forced out, heart pounding harder as the cool metal of the edge of the phone brushed her finger.
Barricade's hand lashed out, snatching her hand in a painful grip and slamming it against the bar. Fiercely biting her lip to keep from crying out, a pitiful sound escaped her as his grip ground the bones together. "Now now, my dear fleshbag, we're having such anicechat, let's not ruin it with uninvited guests."
His free hand reached over to her pocket, plucking the phone and holding it up with a grimace, as if he could smell the Autobots on it.
He dropped the phone into her drink and succeeded in killing it and any hope she had of getting out of this confrontation.
Her eyes burned, her lip stung, leaking a coppery taste onto her tongue.
"If you're going to kill me, just do it, just...don't hurt any of these people. They're innocent, please." She didn't want to die, she wanted very much to live a long life and die of old age surrounded by friends while watching the sun set over snow-capped mountains. Not now, not here in a dingy bar surrounded by strangers and her enemy. But she knew that in this, she had no say. The Decepticon held all the cards here, all the power.
Barricade chuckled, a terrible sound that had haunted so many of her nightmares but was so much worse in reality. "No such thing asinnocentin war, fleshbag, and the next time you beg me to spare anyone, I'll butcher all of them, just for you."
His grip crushed her hand for a moment longer before he finally released her, amusement plainly dancing across his fake face. "But I'm not going to kill you, not yet. I already told you, I've gotspecialplans for you and yourGuardian. Say hello to him for me, will you?"
Making a show of standing, Barricade leveled her with one last wicked smile. "And that leavesmebetter than I found it."
Striding out of the bar, it didn't matter if the laugh was aloud or only in her head, it haunted her just the same.
Darcy didn't, couldn't, move for several minutes after Barricade's departure. She didn't trust it, didn't trust that he was there only to mentally torment her. There had to be something else, a trap set for the Autobots, or maybe setting a tracker on her car.
Sucking in a desperate breath, she forced her panicked mind tothink. If he wanted the Autobots to come to fall into a trap, he would have let her hit the panic call, he wouldn't have ruined the phone. If he'd wanted to put a tracker on her car, he would have done it and left without alerting her to the fact that he'd ever been there.
Barricade had never come across as one who thought about sabotage or elaborate planning. His sole goal, his soleenjoyment, was mental torture, causing the most fear possible.
And that was exactly what this was.
She'd started to relax, to let down her guard. She was adjusting to the burden of the memories and with living with robotic aliens. She finally reached a point where she could look at an Autobot and not immediately wonder if they'd even notice if they stepped on her. She'd finally started to be kind of okay and he could not abide it.
Which made her wonder if he somehow knew, if he'd been watching her, if he knew where the Autobot base was.
Fear was what he was after and it was what he so effortlessly achieved.
Above all else, shehadto keep a clear head. If they knew where the base was already, then rushing off to it to warn them wouldn't really help, the attack would most likely already be on. And if they didn't know? Then rushing off would lead them right to the front door.
So she forced herself to sit stock still andbreathe, in and out, in and out, until her thoughts and heart slowed. Pulling her soaked phone from her drink, she grimaced as she wiped off what she could on the little napkin.
"He looked like bad news." The bartender finally dared approach with a replacement for the alcohol half splashed on his counter.
"More than you can imagine, thanks." She greedily took a long pull from the drink, feeling the whiskey burn its way down her throat.
Clearly not wanting to get involved in whatever was between a random woman and a dangerous looking cop, the bartender only nodded and made his way back to two others at the end of the bar.
Darcy stayed long enough to finish her drink and then a few minutes longer, just in case.
Barricade did not come back in, nor was his Mustang form anywhere in the parking lot when she finally braved stepping outside.
Even so, she gave every car out there a heavy scrutiny, looking for any sign or sigils that would indicate one wasn't dead metal. None did and the grey SUV that was her borrowed ride proved cold to the touch. No sign of the Decepticon anywhere. Darcy took the long way back to the dam, doubling back, U-turning, and even pulling off and sitting for several minutes. Her hands shook the entire time, her heart threatened to bruise her ribs. She saw headlights where there were none, car shapes in the shadows that had her gasping for air.
The lights of the dam were a beacon in the night, chasing away the ghosts that were never there.
No one was in the hangar, no one was ever in the hangar this late, but it felt wrong this time. So wrong. Where were the Autobots? Where were the soldiers?
No one knew anything was amiss and she had no way to find any of them.
Breathe.
Other than bruising the hell out of her hand, Barricade hadn't hurt her or anyone else.
Breathe.
No one had followed her back to the base, there was no immediate threat.
Breathe.
She was safe here. Barricade wanted fear, she needed to deny him that.
If only her body could listen to reason. If only she could stop trembling. If only she could get inair.
Keep moving, she needed to keep moving, to find someone, anyone. If she stopped she might not be able to start again.
She stumbled down the halls, reigning herself in from running only from fear that her legs would not be steady enough.
Wherewaseveryone!?
Get a damn hold of yourself!
"Darlin'?" She whirled with an audible intake, nearly crashing into a corner.
"Darcy?" Sideswipe stiffened sharply, left hand disappearing in a flash to be replaced by a monstrous silver sword as his attention diverted to the hall she'd just come down. "Is he here?"
Darcy pressed her back against the cold, solid wall, fighting against the lump that appeared in her throat. "No, he...he found me in town."
It didn't matter how or if he knew which he she was referring to, she didn't care. All that mattered was that he was silver and Sideways was silver and Ravage was silver and screams and mad laughter echoed in her ears.
"Ratchet. Here. Now." She heard him growl. No, no that waswrong. Ratchet couldn't help. Ratchet was a medic. The other medic, he brought insides to the outside, he coated claws and walls the color of his paint job.
Keep breathing, keep moving.
"Woah, hold up, you better hang here for a click." A massive silver hand dropped to cut off her escape. Trapped, caged, tires squealed somewhere behind the blockade.
"Sideswipe, back off," Prowl's voice snapped with clear authority, cascading over the wailing of her racing heart. The silver alien obeyed immediately. Darcy's eyes found the red chevron, the one splash of color on a black-and-white frame.
Safe.
Cradling her hand against her chest, she frowned as he froze stock still, blue optics shooting to Sideswipe as he released a series of sounds that could only be likened to an old computer. The silver frontliner responded in kind, sweeping his sword towards the hangar. Prowl nodded once and the faux corvette dropped into his alt mode and sped off. Barely seconds later, a yellow Lamborghini followed his path at breakneck speed.
"Prowl, I…" He held up a hand to forestall her explanation, turning as if listening for something down the hall. His bright blue optics dimmed for a moment before he twisted back to her, leaned down, and laid out an open hand next to her.
Darcy blinked down at it, unmoving. She knew what the gesture meant, she'd seen it a handful of times during her wanderings of the base. It was how the Autobots offered to give someone a liftnotas a car.
The last time she'd been in the palm of an alien, Breakdown had been holding her for the red medic.
And yet, the faster they got to wherever they were going, the more likely they might catch Barricade before he disappeared.
Could she trust him?Didshe trust him?
It should have been startling to realize the answer was an unwaveringyes, but it felt right.
Sucking in a breath, she climbed into his waiting palm, her hands finding his thumb as he curled it over her and lifted her from the floor. She promptly left her stomach down there, grimacing at discovering just how bloody tall he was.
His stride, strong and steady, ate up ground faster than she could ever hope to cover on foot. In what felt like only seconds, he walked them through the massive hangar door that served as the Autobot entrance to the conference room. She'd certainly never seen it from this side before. The human portions were….tiny. The tired shape of Major Lennox looked severely out of place next to the towering form of Optimus Prime. Even Ironhide's black bulk failed to look intimidating next to such a figure.
Ironhide's cannons rolled to life as soon as Prowl reached them. The tactician ignored him in favor of placing his hand over the rail and allowing Darcy to unsteadily step off onto the human platform next to the soldier.
"Why in the pit does she reek of 'Con?" Ironhide growled, though his accusing stare was leveled on the black-and-white rather than her.
Darcy ducked her head to take a soft whiff of herself. She didn't smellthatbad. A little stale beer and old peanuts like every bar, but nothing she could identify as Decepticon, or even alien, for that matter.
Lennox nudged her while the Autobots conversed in their own language, forced amusement on his face as he quietly explained just what his guardian had meant. "It's not an actual smell, they all leave behind a coding that's unique to each one of them, like a fingerprint, except they can read it almost immediately."
Ah, that made sense, in a weird way.
Oh.
Oh.
No wonder Barricade-allof the Decepticons- had thought she meant something to Prowl. She'd spent enough time around him before knowing what he really was that his coding must have gotten on her.
And now that thought was in her head and she really wished it wasn't.
A light vibration passed through the floor. Lennox shifted next to her, aligning himself to better see the Autobot entry without looking away from the assembled mechs before them.
"I would like to know that myself," Prowl rumbled, turning away from his commander to fix his steely gaze on her.
"If you would, Ms. Blake, explain the nature of your confrontation with Barricade." Optimus' voice rolled straight through her to her bones. Darcy couldn't understand how anyone or anything could stand on a battlefield facingagainstsuch a being. The Prime just...commanded respect by his very presence.
Ratchet thundered into the conference room before she could start to answer, his infernal scanner reaching out to roll over her skin before he'd even completely cleared the doorway. "Perhapsyoucan explain why after such a confrontation she was broughthereinstead ofmy medbay."
"If Barricade has revealed himself, our window of opportunity is limited. As I observed no outward injuries, I determined the need for information outweighed the need for medical assistance," Prowl responded coolly.
For a moment, Darcy swore the medic was about to throw something other than obscenities, but whatever his uninvited scan indicated was enough to placate him into giving an annoyed gesture for her to continue.
"It was just his holoform," Darcy started, rubbing the hand said holoform had squeezed. It was definitely going to be bruised by morning. "I never actually saw...him. I didn't even know itwashim until he said something and then it was….he just wanted to threaten me, I think. Remind me about the plans he has for me and my..uh..guardian."
Her eyes flashed from Optimus to Prowl, gauging their reactions. Ironhide was predictable, he rumbled and shifted his weight and rolled his cannons for want of something to shoot. But the commanders were something else. She didn't have enough experience with Optimus to know what to expect or to even be able to read his expression clearly. Prowl though, Prowl was tense, his door wings held rigidly while he bore a scowl not truly meant for any of them. No doubt his mind was running through all the scenarios of what Barricade's purpose had been.
"He wrecked the phone Jazz gave me when I tried to go for it, said to tell you hi for him, and then just….left. I didn't see him anywhere when I left the bar or on the way back." It would have been easy, probably, to tail her without her knowing. They didn't actuallyneedtheir headlights to drive at night. At least, if she'd understood Jazz's brief lesson on how their sensors worked while in vehicle mode right, then they didn't. But she didn't think he had, otherwise he'd be facing the twins.
She viciously hoped hehadfollowed her and was now getting everything he'd once promised her done to him.
Optimus paused, his eyes flashing before he tipped his head at her. "You did not come straight back to the base after the incident."
A statement, no doubt gleaned from accessing the car's lojack system, but a question as to why was tucked in there.
Darcy wrapped an arm around herself, wondering if they thought sheshouldhave come straight back. "I wanted to give him time to leave first and...maybe to get bored and leave if he tried waiting around outside for me. When I didn't see him, I didn't trust that he hadn't maybe changed his alt mode to something I wouldn't recognize, that he wasn't waiting to follow me. So I took detours and wrong turns and backtracked, trying to make sure I wasn't followed when I eventually made it back."
She had no idea what the expression that flashed over his face meant, but Prowl pinched his brow in what she knew was the look he took on whenever the logic of someone's actions weren't processing. "Yet doing so put you at considerable risk for attack or recapture. You even stopped completely, multiple times."
That….was probably true and she hadn't thought of that while out on the road, not really. Sure he could have gotten bored enough to capture her and threaten her to tell him where it was, or attempt to make her try to run.
Lifting one shoulder in a single shrug, she knew there really wasn't anything else to say.
"I had to make sure he didn't find the base."
Prowl blinked despite the action being totally unnecessary.
Lennox leaned back in his seat, arms cross over his chest as he regarded her. "Why didn't you hit the panic button on the back of the steering wheel?"
It was Darcy's turn to blink at him, heat rising to her cheeks as she sheepishly shrugged. "I forgot it was there?"
Prowl did not look amused in the least, but the soldier and his guardian shared similar humor.
What Optimus thought about it, she didn't even try to hazard a guess. The massive red and blue mech vented lightly. "While I am glad for your safe return and grateful for the risks you took to prevent his discovering our location, it concerns me that he was able to find you, despite precautions. This incident is for all of us. Whether or not they know of our base here, I believe they suspect we are at least near. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker report his signal all around the establishment where this occurred, and coating several other vehicles, but they lose it on the highway."
Barricade, like Jazz and Prowl, had more coding dampeners on his exterior than most Cybertronians. If his mark was all over town andher, it was intentional. An on-purpose neon sign that he was there.
"Could be a taunt meant to draw us out," Ironhide interjected, looking ready to do just that despite the possibility of a threat.
"I don't...I don't think so." Darcy wasn't sure how much she should speak up now that her part was done or if she should at all. This was alien business, not hers, she was just the unlucky individual caught in the middle of a feud. She'd told them what happened, that washed her hands of involvement.
"Explain what you mean, Detective," Prowl invited, his head tipped just barely to one side.
It was unnerving, having so much alien attention on her, especially now that she was just sharingtheories and not the facts themselves. This wasn't her war, this wasn't her sworn enemy for millennia. They knew Barricade and his motivations far better than she could ever grasp. What could she possibly know or come up with that they hadn't already? But Prowl had put the offer out there and now they were listening. She sucked in a breath, steeled herself. "If he'd wanted to draw you out for a fight, why destroy the phone? He could have played dumb, let me hit the panic button, and drawn you right to him. But he didn't. He could have killed me and everyone in that bar, heck on that block, but he didn't lift a finger towards anyone. He just….he revealed himself, scared the hell out of me, laughed about it, and left. I thinkthat'swhat he was doing. Fear is his thing, the more he causes, the more he enjoys it. I don't know how he found me, if it was an unlucky accident or something else, but I think all he wanted out of our meeting was to remind me that he's still out there, that he's still got plans. Remind all of us."
Prowl shifted towards Optimus. "Given the current evidence, I would have to agree with the Detective. Barricade's holoform does not naturally shed his coding like this. This was intentional and there is little reason for him to do so if not to let everyone know the moment they come across the Detective that he was near her, that he could have taken her again."
As the tactician happened a glance back in her direction, Darcy realized this wasn't about everyone. Barricade didn't care if Optimus or Sideswipe knew he'd been around. He didn't care if Jazz knew he'd had a chance at her and had chosen not to take it. This was aboutProwl. This was about telling his enemy that he could have snatched the human under his 'care' right out from under his nose,again.
And Darcy remembered the promise Prowl had made during one of their drives, the promise to do everything in his power to keep Barricade from getting to her again. There was no way the Decepticon knew about that promise, but he might suspect at the least that his nemesis had made it to himself.
He hadn't done anything to her because thealmostandwhat ifswould be enough to torture them for now and to keep them on edge waiting for him to strike. He'd found her once when she lacked protection, he could do it again. And the next time?
Next time he wouldn't be letting her walk away with a just bruised hand.
Chapter 22: Deep Breathe
Notes:
And here we are at last! Fully caught up with what has been written and posted on other sites. Unfortunately due to my insane schedule as a graduate student doing wildlife research, I am not able to write 'for fun' very frequently and thus updates are going to become suuuuper slow. I wish I could update more regularly but alas, tis not to be while I am in school! But while updates may be slow, there is still much ahead of our dear characters!
Chapter Text
"Sometimes there are no words, no clever quotes to neatly sum up what's happened that day..."
"Given the circumstances, I suggest restricting the Detective's movements outside of the base to Autobot accompaniment, until we can move her to another base." Prowl crossed his metal arms over his chassis, his doorwings shifting just so as he shifted into his SIC role.
Lennox grimaced, but his head dipped down in agreement. Darcy stared at him in disbelief, figuring he at least, could have been counted on to take her side.
"I'm sorry,what? Restrict my movements?Moveme? Do I not get a say?"
Optimus remained annoyingly silent, his gaze shifting to the tactician.
"It is a matter of security…"
"Security!" She cut Prowl off with a growl, waving her hand that was definitely showing some impressive coloration now. "I wouldn't give up the base just to save my own skin!"
A part of her had counted on Prowl knowing that, a part that now couldn't decide if it wanted to shrivel up into hurt or burst out in anger that he doubted her.
"We know, but they have ways of getting humans to talk, when the mood strikes them. Shockwave wasn't buried in the Cascades." Lennox's words sent a chill down her spine. Of all the mechs, it was Shockwave she'd most hoped had died. To know he was still out there...why hadn't they told her this before?
"It is a matter of security and your safety," Prowl finished, his optics narrowed just slightly.
Darcy glared up at him. The fear of Shockwave, while very real, couldn't be allowed to control how she lived. Fear had not been enough to stop her from joining the police force, it couldn't,wouldn'tbe now. Her safety had been under threat every morning she went to work. Sure that threat was reduced being in a smaller town, but still, a deer darting across the road at the wrong time was just as capable of ending her as a criminal. "Would you do the same for any other soldier on this base?"
Really, given the rate the men went out during their off hours, it was just as likely Barricade could have come across any of them, might have already, without either ever knowing.
The tactician's brow ridges furrowed just the smallest bit. "Barricade has not singled out any of those men, nor does he have reason to."
"Because his beef is withyouand I'm just the unlucky fleshbag that got caught in the middle of it." His doorwings flared and she knew the comment rankled. Her eyes shifted to the leader of the Autobots, to the one who had the final say in the matter. "My month is almost up, what if I decide I want to go home?"
Would she be allowed? Or was letting her know the base's exact location a way to trap her permanently?
Optimus regarded her silently for several pounding heartbeats. "I must ensure the safety of my Autobots, but we will not hold you captive."
Ratchet growled, "Even if it's a suicidal decision?"
The leader looked at his medic, a soft vent escaping his system. "Even if I would strongly advise against such a choice to leave, it is yours to make, Ms. Blake."
Prowl's stance somehow tightened further, but it was Lennox who commanded her immediate attention as he spoke up, his voice low, his tone tinged with regret but unwavering. "If you choose to leave Autobot protection, you will fall into NEST protective custody."
She stared at him, certain she must have misheard, positive he hadn't really threatened what he'd just implied. "What?"
To his credit, he did not appear to relish what he was saying, but there was a steel behind his gaze that told her he would not bow from it, no matter what she said. "SOP would be to move you immediately to D.C. to a designated safehouse you would share with a rotation of NEST operatives. We would find work for you, but it couldn't be anything in law enforcement, too easy to track. It would have to be something totally unrelated, until such a time the threat is neutralized."
"Neutralized." Her voice dropped, her gaze boring into the unflinching Major next to her. "Given their current record for war length, the cage doors wouldn't open until my bones were dust."
Lennox frowned, Prowl shifted in her peripheral, but it was Optimus' stern voice that rumbled sharply, her body jerking back in her seat at the force of it. "Enough. I suggest no rash decisions be made tonight. Ms. Blake, should you choose to remain under Autobot protection, you will require an escort to leave the base. Major, given the circumstances, I advise limiting the trips of your men, as I shall do with my own, until we can garner Barricade's true intent."
Frustration won out over common sense.
"Intent?" she snapped at the massive Autobot who could so easily crush her if he wasn't careful. "His thing is causing fear! Distress, paranoia, take your pick, he gets off on all of it! Why else would he blast his signal if not to tell all of you he was here? To make you wonder if some grand plan was at play and afraid to go outside? That's what he wants, to have everyone afraid and cowering."
"And what purpose would that serve him, Ms. Blake? I will not change my orders on a theory alone," Optimus rumbled, but his voice lacked the sharpness it had held just moments before.
"The purpose is fear! Make us all afraid to wander, to leave the base, to limit patrols…" her tone settled as her mind whirled with the words her own mouth had spit out. "To take our attention away from something else. If everyone is here, response times will be longer. If we're all focused on finding him, we might miss something the others are doing. Hell, he could lead a goose chase in the opposite direction of whatever they're after."
The more the words spilled out, the more convinced of it she was. Barricade loved scaring the piss out of everyone he could, but he wasn't in charge. No matter how much he hated Starscream, at some point he still had to follow orders in some fashion.
Her gaze wandered up to Prowl's and he tipped his head, a silent prodding to let her train of thought continue.
"Taking me the first time wasn't part of Starscream's plans, he was pissed about it. He could be doing this for his own amusement, but if their leader has a shred of sense, he could be letting Barricade do all this for the benefit of his grand plan. If we're so focused on the Mustang, the jet might get the drop on us." Not that any of that came close to answering justwhatsaid grand plan could be, didn't come close to unveiling what Starscream might want to keep them blind to. And like Optimus had said, it was all just a theory based on a very limited glimpse into the inner workings of the dynamics between the jet and muscle car. She could be totally wrong. They could guess that at least Prowl might figure out the same thing and be usingthatlikelihood to execute their plans. She could be wrong and worse, she could be pointing them exactly where the Decepticons wanted them to go.
"Shockwave is many things, but a fool he is not. He may have calculated Prowl coming to such a conclusion and informed Starscream of such," Ratchet vented, curling a hand up to tap his chin.
Lennox chewed his lip, hands planting on his hips in thought. "What are the odds Starscream would follow such advice?"
Darcy hadn't seen much of any exchanges between those two Decepticons. They seemed ruthless enough to get along, but then again, so was Barricade. Yet there had to besomecohesion for them to have stood against the Autobots for so long, right? Or had it really all been because of their leader, defeated years ago in Mission City?
The Autobots paused for a beat before Prowl released a barely perceptible vent. "Shockwave's loyalty gives credence to Starscream's leadership. I would give it an eighty-seven percent chance he would follow such a suggestion."
"Unless?" Darcy felt it hung there unspoken and wondered if irritation might lend a reduction to those odds.
Optimus folded massive arms over the truck doors on his chest. "Starscream's greatest weakness is his arrogance. He believes a leader does not need the advice of those in stations below him and sees it as a weakness to change his plans in accordance to offered insight."
There was something there in his words that had Darcy looking up to meet his gaze. He wasn't about to change the orders he'd already given, not yet at least, but in a way, she thought he might be conceding to take what she was saying into consideration.
Not a victory in that she was about to get her way, but Darcy felt a swell of respect for the commander. At the least, it was a statement that her voice wasn't being completely ignored in all of this. Regardless of what decision he made, it was not done without consideration of all points of view.
Considering he was ancient, experienced beyond comprehension, and held more power in his smallest digit than she ever would in her life, that was no little thing.
Now she could understand why every Autobot she'd met had chosen to follow Optimus through a war without end.
Prowl tipped his chin in agreement, bringing the detective back to their main problem at hand. "If he feels his authority has been undermined, particularly in front of others, the likelihood he would acknowledge anything Shockwave would say falls to thirty-two percent."
Well then, perhaps there was something to be said for having an enemy who thought just a little too much of himself.
Lennox blew out a breath, running a hand through already ruffled hair. "We still have no idea what his original planisand basically a fifty-fifty chance what Barricade is doing is a trap. Hardly decisive on if we need to act now or not."
"Inaction is as much an action as marching onto a battlefield, Major." Prowl shifted his stance just enough to avoid being brushed by the metal of Ironhide's cannons as they rolled in his irritation.
"Well I'm sick of our action being sittin' on our afts waitin for the 'Cons to do something," the black mech grumbled heavily, pounding his fists together in want of an enemy face to bury them into.
Optimus laid a hand on the heavy shoulder plates of the weapons specialist. "I know, old friend, but I will not lightly risk lives on a rash decision. The hour is late and we need rest. We will reconvene in the morning when Sideswipe and Sunstreaker have returned from their search."
Theydidn't need rest, thehumansneeded rest, but that was a distinction the Autobot leader intentionally left out. Whether she agreed with his orders or not, Darcy had to marvel that the alien worked with people better than mostpeopleworked with people.
With the meeting officially over, Ratchet gestured sharply for her to hold her hand out for a proper scanning, tsking to himself when she did so and he looked at the results.
"Minor contusions on the metacarpus, as I suspected. You will be unable to punch any holoforms for a few weeks." Ironhide snorted in amusement on his way out the door while the detective stared up at the medic. Did he just...did he just make ajoke? About the time she'd punched Prowl no less?
The briefest narrowing of Prowl's glowing eyes indicated that she hadn't been hearing things. Ratchet had definitely just made a joke about it.
Prowl's large hand settled over the railing, palm open in invitation. Darcy blinked at it. The need for a speedy ride to this meeting had made sense, but now….now this was an invite to be carried without reason. At least, without a reason that she could determine. Her hand was bruised, her legs were fine. Even if he wanted to talk, it was just as easy to do so from the floor.
Darcy climbed up into his palm, feeling her stomach drop to her toes as he raised her. This was not a feeling she'd ever get used to, that was for sure.
Prowl's stride was significantly slower than when he'd brought her there. In fact, she would dare say that it was even slower than his usual pace.
Despite the commotion she had caused with her entry, the base was quiet and fairly dark outside of the conference room. It reminded her just how late the hour had to be. No doubt Lennox had been dragged from bed just to attend the meeting in the first place. Now with him and the rest of the Autobots dispersed, she was alone with the tactician.
Who was looking at her rather critically. She sighed, tucking her abused hand against her chest and mentally preparing herself for the safety speech that had to be coming. "Out with it already."
"Detective... are you alright?" She blinked, staring up to meet his gaze in disbelief. Well, that was unexpected.
"Uh, yeah, bruised hand is all, he let me off easy, I know." She gingerly waved said hand to show off the array of colors as if he hadn't just witnessed Ratchet scanning it.
A blast of warm air rolled across her skin as he vented, his pace slowing. "That is...not what I meant. Are you well, mentally? Barricade's most efficient attacks leave no physical wounds and you are still healing. Tearing such a scab in such a way...I wish to know the state of your being that Ratchet's scans cannot see."
Right, if she was mentally screwed up, she might miss something with the cases.
No, she berated herself, that wasn't fair. He was checking in, making sure there wasn't some other emotional trauma that would eventually bite them all in the ass. Jazz would have done the same. Prowl was just...more pragmatic about it.
"I...am not sure. I think I'm okay." But she'd been in a full on panic attack the second she'd stepped foot on base, she'd been unable to think clearly until Prowl arrived to send Sideswipe away. For a moment, she'd slid right back into being unable to differentiate the good guys from the bad.
She'd probably need to apologize to Sideswipe the next time she saw him and hoped he hadn't taken her panic personally. He didn't seem the type to, but she should address it anyway.
Prowl raised a brow as if he didn't quite believe her but wasn't willing to push too hard.
"I just…" She rubbed her eyes, the adrenaline having worn off and leaving her exhausted. "I don't know."
It would take a lie to say she wasn't afraid she would backslide, that her mind would betray her and see enemies where there were allies. She was tired of being afraid and she didn't want her body's flight instinct to kick in the next time she saw Jazz.
The tactician nodded, his walk returning to his usual gait. "If you need anything, you need only ask. Now get some rest, Detective, you need it."
His hand lowered, tipping just slightly to let her slide easily to her feet. They'd made it to the corridor that led to the barracks and living apartments. The Autobot could make it no closer to her room in his real body, a fact that she'd once been thankful for but now found somewhat unsettling.
"Right, rest." She wondered if she would be able to get any despite the weariness seeping into her bones. Her mind still refused to slow, though the thoughts dashed by too quickly for her to grasp.
The hallway stretched out longer than usual. Darcy cursed the senseless twisting of her gut. This base was practically the safest place in the whole damn solar system. Barricade couldn't touch her here, none of them could.
She hesitated at the threshold of her doorway, glancing back down the hall. Prowl still waited at the end, watching her with a slight tilt of his head. He nodded once, turning away.
Panic seized her by the throat, but she forced herself through the doorway. For a small apartment packed with case files, it felt too large and empty.
Dragging a hand through her hair, Darcy flipped the lights off and felt her way to bed. Prowl was right, she needed sleep. It would be better in the morning. Hopefully.
She shot up panting, drenched in sweat, and fighting the sheets tangled around her legs. Red eyes glowed in the dark, unflinching as Darcy threw the closest thing within reach at them. The pillow bounced harmlessly off the fire and carbon monoxide detectors.
With a low groan, she fell back, rubbing her eyes while reminding herself she was on base. A glance at the clock showed barely an hour had passed.
A short rap on the door made her jolt. Gripping her chest over her still-racing heart, she kicked the last remaining blankets onto the floor and stumbled to the door to find out who in the hell would come calling so early in the morning.
"Prowl?" She scrunched her brow at the holoform on the other side. "Are the twins back?"
He tipped his head slightly, "No, they are not. Your heart rate was elevated and your breathing irregular. Are you alright?"
"Oh." She blinked, feeling her pulse evening out. "Just...dreams."
"Do you wish to discuss them?" The slightest inflection in his voice told her he was not quite sure of his own offer. What could he do for nightmares, after all, other than tell her the obvious that they were not real?
"I barely remember it." She could still see flashes behind her eyes, but the details were fading away.
Prowl raised a brow and she belatedly remembered she'd used that excuse to avoid confronting her dreams in the not-so-distant past.
She offered a weak and likely unconvincing smile. "Honest, just shadows of bits and pieces."
He continued to regard her carefully for a moment longer before tipping his chin. "Very well, do try to get more rest, Detective."
The fake body began to dissipate and her mouth worked faster than her brain. "Prowl, stay."
For half a second, he looked just as surprised as she was, the holoform re-solidifying as Darcy tried to figure out why she'd said that. All she knew was that she didn't want to be alone right now, that she would get no more rest in an empty apartment. And Prowl...Prowl made her feel safe, even if it was just his holoform.
But he wasn't her guardian and he definitely had more important things to do than waste time babysitting her frayed nerves.
Shaking her head, she pinched the bridge of her nose, waving him off with the other hand. "Ignore me, I know you've got duties to attend to."
He didn't leave, watching her as if his CPU was running faster than light attempting to figure out what she wanted.
"You wish for me to stay?" His head cocked to one side as he completely ignored her follow up.
Pride clogged her throat and Darcy swallowed it thickly. Not like she had much pride to hold onto around Prowl anyway. "I just...don't really want to be alone right now, but I'll be fine."
She stepped back to signal she was going to close the door and release the tactician from any imagined obligation to humor her request. The holoform took a single step forward with her, effectively blocking the doorway. While hitting him in the face with said door wouldn't hurt him whatsoever, it could break her door.
His blue eyes seemed somehow brighter, more piercing as they bore into her. What he could be looking for, she wouldn't even hazard a guess.
"You would rest more if I were near?"
He wasn't using his SIC tone, or the tone he used when he wanted information. He wasn't even using his regular conversation voice, nor was it the lit he slipped into when he wasn't sure of his own words. His tone was soft, low, and more effective than anything else he had in his arsenal.
She couldn't stop herself from answering truthfully. "I don't know, maybe...probably."
Even if he calmed her waking mind, there really was no telling if her sleeping conscious would react the same. Maybe it would do the opposite, maybe he would have no effect on the presence of her dreams, but maybe he would. It wasn't as if she spent much time sleeping around the Autobots to know for sure.
He considered for all of a second before he held his hand out to her. Darcy would swear that he didn't look quite sure of himself, but refused to retract the limb now that it was offered. "While my seats may not be as comfortable as your mattress, my doors are open to you."
She stared at his hand, surprised at such an offer. Sure, she'd spent time in his seats since learning of his sentient status, but never with the intention of sleeping. It was...slightly unnerving, in a way. Other than Jazz, she did not typically interact with the Autobots without a purpose, a mission, as it were. Here there was no objective, just an offer to fill the empty space.
"Or," he started, his hand not budging an inch, "I can stay, and you may use my holoform as a...pillow."
Darcy's already poorly functioning brain stalled for a moment, as if she were experiencing a crash herself, before it found a reasonable explanation for such a suggestion. "Jazz put you up to that one, didn't he?"
Prowl didn't miss a beat. "He told me such utilization of another person for sleeping arrangements was common among humans. The choice is up to you, Detective."
Had this offer come from Jazz, it wouldn't have surprised her. Hell, she wasn't close to Sideswipe by any stretch, but she likely wouldn't have thought twice had he been the one saying what Prowl was. Coming from the tactician...well she wasn't sure what it meant exactly, but she knew it carried more weight than it would have from the saboteur or the frontliner. So the question remained, stay here with his holoform, go to his real form, or send him away and deal with a restless night on her own?
She didn't want to be alone. There was no question to that. And the holoform...it was him, but it wasn't, not really, just an illusion, a fake.
She trusted him and even in her dreams his presence soothed her fear.
Telling herself to stop thinking, she placed her hand in his faux one and stepped into the hall with him, shutting her door firmly behind her. At the end of the narrow hall, his real body awaited as the Charger, door already propped open.
"Are you sure?" Her mouth ran of its own accord. Of course he was, Prowl didn't offer things insincerely.
"Do you trust me?" he asked in turn.
She'd already answered that for herself only a few hours ago. "Yes."
"Then I am certain."
The holoform faded away as she reached Prowl's side, warm air washing over her from his vents. Somehow he'd shifted his interior so the backseats lay flat, offering plenty of room for her to lay down. The leather seats were no mattress, but they weren't uncomfortable either. If the thin blanket and pillow that were there were real or a hologram, she couldn't tell.
His tires rolled slowly across the smooth concrete floor, though where he was going she couldn't see; he'd completely blacked out his windows, the only light a dim glow cast from his Autobot insignia on his steering wheel.
Darcy felt as awake as she did ready to fall asleep. A confusing notion, one she hadn't felt since the last time she pulled double shifts. How long ago had that been now? How long since she'd been doing normal detective work in a relatively small town? She couldn't remember. The longer she spent with the Autobots, the more her old life felt like a distant dream.
A dream that each day slipped further away from reach.
Prowl's windshield lightened just enough to reveal the array of stars overhead. He'd taken her up to the overlook where not so long ago Jazz had knocked her coffee from. Human lights twinkled on the opposite shore, innocent and oblivious to the aliens nearby. It was as much a glimpse at the outside world of peace as it was a place of solitude. No one, human or Autobot, was likely to find them up here.
Darcy opened her mouth, but Prowl rumbled softly over her gratitude. "Sleep, Detective."
So she did. And though Barricade attempted to reach her again and again, he could not. Her own laughter rang in her ears, mocking his frustration.
Starscream stalked the corridors of the Nemesis, roughly plowing through an unwitting Decepticon whose designation the jet didn't bother to note. Annoyance radiated from him, his wings flexed tightly.
Breakdown watched him go, waiting until he was well and gone to other parts of the downed ship before trekking the hall himself, a crate of parts precariously balanced in his grip.
The relieved vent he released upon making it to the medbay unaccosted was imperceptible to any who might have been around to hear it. The only functioning being around was Knock Out, too absorbed in his own rant to notice the larger mech's entrance until the box clanked against an empty berth.
The red medic turned, scowling harshly at the crate as if it had personally offended him, or worse, ruined his paint job. "Why is it thatIam taking all the risk forShockwave's idea? I'll be scrapped if it doesn't work!"
Breakdown shrugged, the gears in his right shoulder grinding at the movement. It hadn't sat quite right since his last bout with Bulkhead, a fact that rankled the bulky 4x4. "We'll both be scrapped if it doesn't work and he finds out. Can it even work?"
Knock Out lifted a shoulder in a lazy shrug, plucking a hunk of metal from the crate to look it over before dropping it again with a dissatisfied huff. "Logically it should. Won't know until Soundwave gets the final piece."
The blue mech vented, crossing his arms. "I don't like this sneaking around."
He wasn't built for subterfuge, he was built for loud and violent destruction and heliked it. With a gross lack of Autobots to fight recently, he was itching for a brawl, not sneaking supplies past Starscream. His spark always ached now and that made him want to hit something more than usual. He'd have to settle for a decent power down for now.
"At leastyouget to go out! I haven't gotten to race in weeks! Weeks!"
Breakdown rolled his optics skyward. Of course Knock Out would be most upset about his inability to go beat human cars in a test of speed whenever he felt the urge. "And you're still functioning."
Knock Out growled, reaching for the splicer before thinking better of hurling it at the other mech. No need risking his paint job. "Oh go drive over a log."
It was hardly an exceptional number of hours later when Darcy found herself blearily taking in the details of Prowl's roof. In fact, it was probably hardly enough considering the day before. But dawn had come and with it most likely the twins, which meant that another meeting would soon be necessary to determine what they were going to do next. And for Optimus to decide if she was free to go or if she was to be kept in their equivalent of witness protection.
Despite the need for answers and a plan, she found herself loathe to move. Prowl had made no indication of being aware that she was awake yet. In fact, she'd dare say that he may very well be asleep, or whatever they called their shut down. The light coming from his dash was even dimmer than it was last night, and even straining, she could hear no hum coming from his systems. It was as if he were a perfectly normal car. Granted, she'd believed that before, so perhaps he was just allowing her solitude while she mentally prepared for the day ahead.
Oddly enough, the silence seemed too loud without the sound of life coming from him. She wondered how it was possible he could mute the sound or slow down his systems enough for it to be so quiet. She supposed it had to be necessary to stay undetected around those not in the know, although thinking back on it, she couldn't say for certain if he'd been so quiet before she'd found out about him or if she'd simply been so focused on the case that she missed it entirely.
She hoped John was doing okay, hoped he was enjoying his retirement to Florida, dodging alligators on the golf course, only worrying about deciding where to have lunch that day. She wondered about her town and the department. Who was acting detective now? Had things calmed since she left or were they still haunted by what they'd found in the mountains? Was anyone going to go hiking this summer or would they close the trails?
She wondered if she'd ever be able to go back, physically and mentally. The curtain had been pulled back, could she ever go back to chasing human criminals? Could she investigate without thinking aliens could be involved?
There were no answers for those questions, not right now, probably not for a while. It would take a lie to say the answer didn't worry her.
For several minutes she lay in silence and let herself ponder over all of it before shoving it aside and to the back of her mind. Those were concerns for an uncertain future. She had to make it there first for it to matter.
So she shifted her mind to the case files she'd managed to go over so far, the locations where they clustered around, and to the purpose of Barricade's threat.
There were no clear answers there either, but it was a puzzle she could work with.
Noting that Prowl's systems were audible again, she sat up, stretching out the knot in her back. His seats were definitely not a mattress, but she wasn't about to complain about the sleep she'd managed to get.
"Rest well, Detective?" Prowl questioned, his tires slowly rolling them away from the overlook and back into the base.
"I did, thank you, Prowl. Sorry I commandeered you for the night." She sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck, feeling a little embarrassed for needing him like that. Yet she couldn't regret asking him to stay. She knew she wouldn't have gotten any real rest if she'd let pride win out and push him away last night.
"Your apology is unnecessary. I am the one who offered." Of course he'd probably either slept himself or been running through scenarios the whole time. He didn't seem the type to need to pace unless something was really bothering him, so no doubt he found some way to utilize the quiet.
A handful of soldiers and Autobots milled about as the base woke up, but it was still early. No doubt the majority of the men were in the mess hall, which Prowl rolled by without slowing. Not that Darcy minded, she'd much rathernotface the entire base in pajamas. Something which Prowl must have already accounted for, as he took her right to the hall that led to her room. Though no daylight entered this hallway, it appeared…lighter…than it had the night before. Walking down it did not cause her heart to race or stutter like it had. A welcome respite, certainly.
"Detective," Prowl's voice stopped her at her door and she turned, surprised to find his holoform at her side. She hadn't even realized he'd sent it down with her. "Our meeting shall resume in one hour."
Right, just enough time to shower, change, and grab a coffee. Nodding, she left him in the hallway determined to do just that.
In half that time she exited the bathroom in fresh clothes, dragging the towel over her wet hair. She jolted to a stop, towel still draped over her head, as she found Prowl in her kitchen, staring perplexedly at the coffee maker that was growling at him.
Darcy stared between the innocent pot and the tactician, the image of him standing in her old kitchen holding bags ofIHopflashing behind her eyes. Except this time there was no Lennox having pushed him into doing it. No Jazz as far as she could tell either. Just Prowl, frowning at the pot as if it mocked him.
"You…made me coffee?" Alright, had Jazz stolen Prowl's holoform and voice?
Prowl raised a brow as if to ask if she thought someone else had snuck in and started the pot. "Though I do not agree with your excessive consumption of caffeine, you do function more optimally with at least one cup. As this is expected to be an extended meeting, you will need to be adequately fueled."
He gestured to the counter behind him, where Darcy had failed to notice the plate stacked with food from the mess hall. "Dig in, I believe you humans say."
Pancakes stacked with strawberries, bacon, and a healthy helping of eggs on the side greeted her with a steady stream of steam rising from the plate. A distantly familiar sight, as it was what she had taken from the offeredIHopfeast so long ago. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised he remembered, it'd be more shocking if heforgotsomething.
"Uh thanks, Prowl."
She expected the holoform to disappear now that his good deeds were delivered. There was still a half an hour before the meeting would start, after all. Plenty of time for him to…do Second-in-Command things. But he didn't. While she hunched over the plate to eat, he leaned against the counter next to the coffee pot, frowning lightly towards the wall covered in her map and pins. She'd had to mix up the pin shapes as well as colors and sizes in order to visualize dates yet even so there was still no clear pattern, save for one.
"They have a preference for rugged terrain, mountains mostly. Probably for security's sake. Less likely to be accidentally discovered by people or you and any tunneling activity would be ignored since…." she paused, tapping her chin and narrowing her eyes. While pins were scattered all over the map, therewasa pattern when looking at terrain beyond just 'rugged'.
"Detective?" Prowl prompted with a raised brow.
Darcy abandoned the food to approach her wall, running her finger along the pins dotting the coast. "These ranges, Cascades, Sierra Nevadas, Coastal, they're all a part of the Ring of Fire. Daily seismic activity is normal in these places, which means mining could go unnoticed as long as they aren't blowing mountaintops. Could be worth checking seismographs for unnatural patterns of activity."
"You are confident in this lead?" Prowl stood next to her, looking at the right side of the map, at the handful of pins near the other major mountain range.
"Yes, maybe, the Appalachians have tons of caves that hikers go missing around every year, but they aren't on a plate border, so they don't have the earthquakes." She chewed her lip, blue crystals flashing behind her eyes. "They were looking for energon crystals."
"Which do not require volcanic activity to form." Prowl cut in.
"Maybe not, but they probably aren't just sitting exposed either. Cracks from earthquakes, lava tubes, they'll be easy ways to get deep underground quickly. Less work and less likely they'll be noticed." She tapped the pins on the eastern side. "These aren't out of the ordinary."
She nodded, knowing she could be totally off, but convincing herself that she had to be right. Nothing else was pointing them towards the Decepticon base and well, it wasn't as if Prowl's supercomputer processor couldn't find a fatal flaw in her theory if there was one. "We check the seismographs, look for irregularities, that's how we find their other bases."
The tactician looked at her map, no doubt committing it to memory. He nodded once. "Very good, Detective."
"Should we go to the meeting?" She raised a brow at him. Despite the praise, he appeared utterly unhurried to pursue their lead.
Prowl turned with a nod towards her kitchen and the forgotten plate. "I shall submit the request for the records while you finish eating. We have time before the meeting still."
Her mind was jittery now, she wanted to see those records even though she knew getting them would take time. How could she think about food?
But Prowl was also not budging or adjusting his purposeful stare. There stood a good chance that he would block the hall if she tried to walk out without clearing at least a portion of the plate.
With a huff, she gave in. He was right, after all, it was bound to be a long meeting.
She pushed the plate closer, shoveling down the food while looking over the map. Small clusters were up in Canada, but the heavy majority ran from the northern US border down through western Mexico, following the lines of the volcanic mountains. She didn't know how many Decepticons were planet-side, but if there were enough of them, she'd bet the same patterns would crop up in South America as well. But that wasn't data she had. She hoped it was because there simply weren't enough Cons to be down there, but she wouldn't put much stock in that hope.
A frown furrowed her brow as she followed the line to where it faded away. "Is there a reason they would avoid Alaska?"
Prowl glanced at the map. "While we can withstand extreme temperatures longer than humans, long exposure to the cold can shut down our systems and put us into stasis lock. It is likely the Decepticons are avoiding the low temperatures."
"Can you get the seismograph records for it anyway?"
He raised a brow at her, the holoform's arms crossing over his chest. "You suspect they may be there despite a lack of cases stemming from the area?"
She shrugged. "Sparser population might mean they don'tneedto kill to stay undetected and it would be smart to be the one place we don't have a reason to look. And once they got underground, the cold wouldn't be as much of a threat."
He nodded once. "I shall add it to the requisition request."
Only once she'd cleared the plate did he lead the way back to the conference room, which was considerably more crowded this time. Several soldiers had joined Lennox, but the Autobot twins were now also present, dirt and dust splattered across their frames. Jazz appeared the moment her feet touched the platform, taking a place alongside the railing while his visor glowed steadily as he looked her over. There was no time to assure him that she was fine, as the twins launched into an account of their search that ultimately led to a failure to catch up to the Decepticon.
"He led us on a merry goose chase," Sideswipe growled, arms crossed over his chest.
"The human is likely right, the only purpose of this is to make us question what he's up to. We should be increasing patrols, not decreasing them," Sunstreaker added with a disgusted huff.
Prowl vented lightly. "Increased patrols offer more opportunity for ambush attacks, something Barricade is known for."
The silver frontliner snorted, "I welcome him to try it."
"Increasing our presence will likely only draw them closer to the base," Ratchet hummed, fingers tapping against his metal forearm.
Optimus tipped his head in agreement, but whatever he was about to say was cut off by a shrill alarm and the screen behind them lighting up with the face of a general. "Major Lennox, Prime. Our patrols have discovered an irregularity in the trench."
Every Autobot in the room went stock still, as if they'd suddenly been turned to stone. Lennox straightened sharply. "Do we have eyes?"
The general nodded, his face grim, "Coming online now."
His face was replaced by a view of dark water, lit up by a few lights on the front of what had to be some kind of submersible drone. The lights revealed little, only a line of jagged rocks of what had to be the ocean floor. They gleamed in the darkness, some taking on unnatural shapes.
Darcy sucked in a breath as she realized it wasn't rocks at all. It was the pieces of Cybertronians. It was the bodies of Decepticons.
The sub crested over a large mound that resembled a tank, pausing as the camera found only dark water ahead of it. The camera tipped down, down, down, to a large hole in the middle of the debris, a patch of bare ground that didn't belong.
Engines rumbled and growled all around her, apprehension growing tangible in the air. Darcy didn't know who was supposed to have been there on that ocean floor, but whoever it was, was someone that put even Optimus Prime on edge.
Her eyes found Jazz, an Autobot who had been dead and now walked again. If he could be brought back, could this enemy be as well?
"Previous recordings indicate that this was where NBE-1 had been," the general confirmed unnecessarily. The resignation on the faces around her told her that they all knew exactly who it was, though the acronym meant little to nothing to her. "Is he back then, Prime?"
Optimus vented. "Unclear. They do not possess the shard, nor is there any other equivalent on this planet."
"Is this what Starscream has been planning?" Lennox asked, beginning to pace rapidly.
Prime turned towards his tactician, who offered a negative. "It is likely a secret attempt by those still loyal to their former master. Starscream's desire for power would never allow him to entertain the idea of bringing back the one mech he could never overthrow."
The Prime tipped his head in agreement. "Primus willing, it will not come to pass, but regardless we should prepare for the return of Megatron."
"...sometimes the day just...ends." ~A. Hotchner, Criminal Minds.
END ACT 1
Chapter 23: Transfer
Notes:
I liiiiive! Barely. I accepted a PhD gig because I hate myself, so we'll see how these next few years go /laughs nervously.
Chapter Text
Act II
"In the end, it's not just the big and small events that make you who you are, make your life what it is, it's how you chose to react to them—that's where you have control over your life" ~Lisa Unger
Megatron. The name rang in Darcy's ears long after she'd left the conference room. The destroyer. The murderer. The true leader of the Decepticons. The one everyone truly feared. The one who ripped Jazz in half without a second thought.
The one Decepticon she'd never had to face.
And his body was stolen.
For all they knew, he had already been brought back to life.
For all they knew, he was a threat bearing down on them.
For a moment, and likely for a good time following, no one really cared what Barricade was up to anymore, or what Starscream's ultimate goal was. None of that really mattered if Megatron was back.
As non-essential personnel, Darcy wasn't allowed to be involved in the planning about what to do about this new news. She was fine with that. The less she knew, the better. The less involved they let her get, the easier it would be to slip away, back into her old life.
If there would be a life to return to.
Of course, the interruption had meant they'd never gotten the chance to discuss what was to be done with her, so the original ruling still stood. Slipping away would be impossible.
And there was still the problem of not having much of a life to go back to. No job, no friends left in her town, no guarantee that Barricade wouldn't come for her the second she tried to use her own credit card.
Even if Megatron was back, she couldn't believe the Mustang would just give up his vendetta. Perhaps he would be reigned under control…for a time, but eventually he would come. Finding her in the bar had proven that, whether it was by chance or not.
She blew out a breath, breaching the entry into the rec room. Regardless, her evenings spent in bars surrounded by civilians were over. Not that she currently had any desire for that, but who knew how long the restriction would last?
Only human soldiers were in the room, as the news of Megatron had prompted an all-hands meeting of the Autobots. No doubt it would be some time before any of them emerged again.
For the moment, the base was practically alien-free.
And yet, Darcy found no comfort or camaraderie in the soldiers. They lived on base, fought alongside the Autobots, yet were hardly more than the strangers in the bar.
In an ironic twist of fate, the very aliens she was trying to get away from were the closest things she had to friends on this base.
Left to her own devices, Darcy eventually returned to her room. If Megatron was back, the need to find the Decepticon base had only grown. Maybe there was something in those boxes of files she hadn't discovered yet. Maybe there was something she'd missed.
Yet hours passed and she felt no closer to when she'd started. The seismograph reports might reveal something and she still put money on those being their best bet. Otherwise there was nothing. Not even splitting cases by date revealed anything telling. Initial surges could have been Decepticons, but they could have also been an increase in activity or reporting. While cases around Primus Peak stopped after the raid, nowhere else saw a change in patterns. But it'd also been spring, when visitors were only just returning to mountainous terrain.
She glanced at the clock, realizing she'd been staring unseeing at her map for the last twenty minutes. There was nothing her human eyes could see in the patterns. Maybe there was differences, but was it the Decepticons or the seasons? Was it really something or just another false trail?
Megatron could be back, they didn't have time for goose chases.
She sighed, shoving the files aside to brace her head in her hands. She wasn't an alien detective, she didn't have eons of experience. Hell, she wasn't even a human detective anymore, what help could she even be? Would they even keep her around? It was all too big for her, too much. Maybe the next time she saw Prowl he would tell her that she was being sent home.
It was what she'd wanted all along after all.
She hated that the map taunted her, that the itch of an unsolved mystery diluted the desire to leave it all behind and move on.
Not that she really got a say one way or the other around here. Her fate lay in the hands of NEST and the Autobots. Only one of those options offered any sort of comfort. It wasn't the one she knew it should have been.
Still time ticked by without a word. Eventually she left the room for the mess hall and dinner, taking the longer route to check who might be wandering around. The base still seemed eerily empty of aliens and higher ranking military personnel. Autobots didn't need to sleep as often as humans and this was Megatron. Their meeting could last for days.
It did.
The base was on lockdown for the duration of it. Canceled leave caused no small amount of grumbling among the personnel who didn't yet know the details of the trouble. With no Autobots to break up the long days, the soldiers had taken to spontaneous drills on the paintball range. No one knew anything, but the tension remained high with every hour and day that passed, pressing against frayed nerves with a demand to break.
At noon on the fifth day, it did, with a single announcement over an intercom system that called for all personnel to report to their duty stations. The tension snapped, soldiers moving quickly and with purpose, their numbers swelling as commanding officers and Autobots finally reappeared.
Having no official duty station, Darcy remained where she was in the rec room, her eyes tracking the commanders and aliens that passed. Even the Autobots were moving stiffly and somehow seemed tired. How could metal look tired?
"Detective." She blinked up at Prowl, noting that he definitely looked exhausted, his doorwings nearly drooping.
"Prowl," she barely stopped herself from asking what was going on. It wasn't her business. Anything to do with aliens was likely to be removed from being her business very shortly. She settled on a safer question. "Are you alright?"
"I am functional," he supplied, "And I need you prepared to leave in two hours."
Such a short time. While she was not surprised at the request, she was that it would be so fast. She supposed she could not complain, although she felt a tinge of regret that she would likely not get a chance to say goodbye to Jazz, who she had yet to see since the meeting let out.
"I can do that." It wouldn't take two hours to pack the single duffel worth of personal items she had here. It wouldn't even take that long to pack up all of the case files so that they would be ready to move for whoever else might take them over.
Prowl tipped his head, his blue optics dim and distant. "I will see you in the garage then."
He turned back into the flow of moving personnel, the humans quickly adjusting their paths to give him room. Whether it was respect or intimidation, she noted that they gave him a wider birth than some of the other Autobots. Prowl did not appear to notice.
She wondered if Ratchet was as capable of demanding he get rest as he was Jazz. The black and white had to be completely whooped for her to be noticing that he seemed off.
But it wasn't her business. Not anymore
She was going home.
And she couldn't deny the sense of dread that sank into her gut.
Who knew what awaited her at home, but she was going to have to face it with little time to mentally ready herself.
Two hours later she was in the hanger with her duffel slung over her shoulder. Soldiers moved in well organized chaos, loading trucks with supplies, weapons, and personal belongings. Even Ironhide sat in his truck form, soldiers strapping a massive crate down in his bed.
It appeared to be a mass exodus.
Optimus Prime himself strode into the hanger, Prowl and Ratchet flanking him. From the floor, he was even more colossal, exuding power and command from every panel. The three Autobots paused, looking over the growing colony of vehicles ready to leave. In tandem, their bodies disintegrated, collapsing in on themselves and reforming as human-made machines. It was the first time she'd gotten to see the vehicle modes of the commander and medic. She supposed it shouldn't have been a surprise that such a massive Autobot was a semi. There were probably very few options that would fit his size.
The Charger rolled away from the other two, stopping only as he came alongside her and popping his passenger door open. "Come, Detective, it is time we leave."
She hesitated just a moment, looking around the bay for Jazz. She could not see his silver frame anywhere. Maybe a clean break would be easier.
Climbing into the Charger, she couldn't help but wonder where everyone else was going. Was the entire base being emptied? Was there another base they were heading too? Or were they scattering, covering more ground in case Megatron showed himself?
But it wasn't her business. She was going home.
Some signal she didn't see or hear put the line of cars and trucks in motion. Human trucks took point, Ironhide rolling in front of Optimus with Prowl behind. If Ratchet or other Autobots were in the convoy, she couldn't see them in the mass of human vehicles.
"How dangerous is Megatron, really?" she couldn't stop herself from asking. Oh she'd heard about his initial attacks on Mission City, knew that he had led the Decepticons through millennia of war. He was a bigger threat than Starscream as their leader, but just how much more? Could the Autobots handle it? Could they defeat him a second time?
Prowl vented softly, the warm air brushing across her face. "With Starscream in command, the Decepticons would have eventually imploded in on themselves with infighting. He might have held them together another few years at most, but they would have steadily broken apart. They will unite under Megatron. They respect and fear him too much to abandon their cause or to challenge his rule. He was also held here, trapped in stasis for decades. He knows of this place."
"Doesn't Starscream? He helped free him the first time, right?" It had seemed completely ridiculous to form a base right where the Decepticons had known the humans kept Megatron hidden for so long, yet until now, there'd been no indication the enemy had any idea they were there.
"Starscream believes himself too cunning, and he believes we believe him too cunning to attempt hiding in plain sight. The odds he would look for us here were below one percent. The odds Megatron will attack the dam for spite or to check for our presence is nearly sixty. Which is why many of us are returning to our primary base, while others go to man bases we believe to be nearest to Decepticon activity." the tactician explained as the convoy practically took over the highway and Las Vegas loomed on the horizon.
A fleet of cargo planes rumbled overhead, dropping towards the airbase on the edge of the city.
"Where is Jazz?" Maybe a clean break would be better, but he was her friend, as crazy as that sounded in her own mind, and he'd done so much for her over the last weeks that she at least owed him a goodbye.
"He is on a scouting mission. Fret not, Detective, he will join us when he is finished." Prowl's path on the interstate stayed perfectly steady, remaining an exact six feet from the semi's rear tires. If the landscape wasn't flying by, it would almost seem as if they were standing still. They made the vehicles driven by humans look clumsy and unsteady.
Darcy paused, narrowing her eyes at the dash as she realized that while she had assumed she was going home, Prowl had never actually said such.
"Prowl….where am I going?" Her time should be nearly up. It would only make sense to cut her loose a little early, let her return home. There was still a chance. Perhaps he would leave her at the airport with a non-sentient ride back to Idaho. Perhaps she would have to plane-hop a few times to make it back.
But he said that Jazz would join us. With Megatron on the loose, she rather doubted the Autobots would allow their tactician and saboteur to escort her all the way home.
"I am afraid I must amend our previous agreement to conclude once we have a better understanding of if Megatron is truly back. For now, you are coming with me to our primary base on Diego Garcia."
"Diego Garcia?" Darcy parroted in shock. She hadn't the foggiest idea of where that was, but given the fleet of inbound aircraft, she'd bet it wasn't local.
"A military installation on an island in the Indian Ocean."
"Indian Ocean? I can't go to the Indian Ocean!" Darcy felt her world tilt. The thought of going home had made her nervous, yes, but to discover she wasn't…that they were shuffling her out of the country?! She'd only left the country once and that was to Canada. Now they wanted her to go to some island in the middle of the ocean on the other side of the world?
"On the contrary, due to our situation, you are allowed to any base which I am stationed."
"Prowl, I'm supposed to be going home, not the other side of the planet!" She pinched the bridge of her nose with a groan. Yes, she'd known her fate for the time being was out of her hands and had been decided by the Autobots and NEST. Yes, she'd known the likelihood had been to either go home or stay on base for the time being, and yes their current base was compromised with the potential return of Megatron. But…surely they had other bases in the US! There had to be something in D.C. or the midwest or…or something!
The tactician vented a sigh, seeming to sink on his axles despite maintaining position and pace with Optimus. "I do apologize, Detective, for any appearance of deception. I could not in good conscience allow you to return home at this time given the probability of another attack by Barricade. Diego Garcia was the only other option."
"Aren't there other bases?" There had to be something that wasn't so remote and isolated as an island.
Prowl did not answer right away, though when he finally did, she noted there was no regret in his tone. He was a pragmatic 'bot, he didn't make decisions he regretted. "I am stationed on Diego Garcia outside of missions. To expedite bureaucratic processes, I claimed Guardianship. Until you are released from our care, you go where I go."
Darcy froze, her eyes narrowing at the dash in front of her. "You what?"
"I claimed Guardianship. It was the logical decision given the circumstances. "
"And you just did this without talking to me first?" She still didn't know exactly what it entailed, but given how everyone talked about it, it seemed a hell of a lot more involved than simply looking out for her.
"There was not the time. Had I waited to discuss it with you, your government would have taken you into their custody and likely would have sent you home in short order."
Pressure built behind her eyes. "I want to go home."
Eventually, at least. The sooner was probably the better. The longer she waited the harder it would be to adjust back to a normal life, to face the demons that waited in the real world.
"You will, when it is safe to do so."
"You can't…I just…" she let out a strangled sound, "What does that even mean?"
Prowl's tires bumped over the gate track as he entered the airstrip, turning with the rest of the convoy towards the building line of cargo planes. Darcy eyed them with no small amount of trepidation. Her gaze jumped to the door, finding Prowl had guessed the track of her thoughts and firmly engaged his locks.
"Please do not do anything rash, Detective. It simply means that I am your Guardian. I am responsible for your safety and the only way which I can ensure such is to have you with me."
A bodyguard. He'd named himself her personal, multiton, mechanical bodyguard, that she had to follow around. All without saying a word to her about it beforehand.
"Prowl that's not…I can't go to Diego Garcia!" It would be senseless to attempt escape, but the temptation was building sharply.
"I fail to see why it is any different than the Hoover Dam." Of course he did. Of course he couldn't understand the difference between the base she'd be taken to for necessity and the one in the middle of the ocean where she didn't belong.
"The dam was supposed to be temporary! Our agreement was for a month, a month, Prowl! That month is almost over, I should be going home, not to some…some island. I'm not a soldier!" She glared at the radio for lack of any other place that seemed sensible to look. If only he'd present his holoform to argue with. Then again, she thought herself liable to strike it again in her current state.
"I am aware you are not a soldier, you are worth more than them. Rest assured, Detective, this is not a permanent transfer. You will be allowed to return home if that is your wish, when I can assure that I am not sending you home to be killed." His windows darkened to prevent anyone from seeing her as he reversed up the ramp of the plane, coming to a halt just before his bumper scraped Ratchet's grill. They were the only two Autobots in the hold, the rest of the space taken up with cargo and men.
"You can't just decide these things for me. It's my life, Prowl." Even if the threat was real, she deserved a say!
"As your Guardian, I can. It is my duty to protect you." No apology or regret in his tone.
"It wasn't your right to name yourself my Guardian!" she snapped, her temper nearing its limits as the ramp doors raised, cutting off the daylight.
"You," Prowl paused, for once uncertainty lacing his words, "do not wish for me to be your Guardian?"
Darcy blew out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose as she took a moment to reign in her tongue before it said something she would regret.
"It is not you I am opposed to. There is no one else I would rather have." Jazz, perhaps, would be the only contender, but even he lacked the connection she had with the tactician, even if they didn't always agree. "But it was a decision about me made without me. I still do not understand what it fully entails, only that I'm being forced to this island base on the other side of the world. The dam was one thing, it was temporary, it was still my own country, and home was a drive away. This island….you can't give me any estimate of how long I'd be there, it's a foreign place, and I'd be trapped there."
Her speech was beginning to ramble, so she snapped her jaw shut, blinking away the burn in her eyes. It sounded so foolish said aloud, so inconsequential. He'd lost his planet, nothing but her job was truly lost to her, only temporarily displaced. Yet it still mattered to her, still mattered that she'd had so little say in her life since she'd made that fatefully intercepted call to the FBI.
Prowl sat quietly for several long moments, the roar of the engines firing up muffled by his frame. Though he stayed impeccably still as the plane lurched into motion, Darcy could feel as it moved down the tarmac, turning towards the strip that would allow them to take off. Her heart beat rapidly in her ears.
"I apologize for not conferring with you before announcing my desire for Guardianship. I had not intended to make it known so soon, though I did not see any other option to keep you safely under our protection. NEST soldiers are proficient in their abilities to do their duty, but they cannot match my own and I do not trust your government to take actions which have your best interests in mind. I assure you that this island is not a permanent station. It will be a temporary stay for you." It was probably the longest string of words she'd ever heard from him.
Nor did it pass her notice that he said he hadn't planned on announcing his desire for Guardianship so soon, meaning he'd intended it eventually. Which had to mean…something. They talked of Guardianship too seriously for it to just mean protective duty, she just didn't know what. But if it was the only option his super-computer brain could think of, then it was probably the only one that existed.
Didn't mean she had to like it.
No, she decided as the plane gained speed, she did not have to like it one bit. But there was no longer a choice in the matter.
The plane lifted from the ground, sealing her fate.
Darcy dropped her face into her hands and let out a strangled groan. She supposed now was a bad time to admit that she hated flying. "How long is this flight going to be?"
"Approximately 27.467 hours, provided refueling progresses smoothly."
Of course it will.
She groaned again, letting her head fall back against the leather seat. Over a day she would be stuck on this plane. And then the island would follow, for who knew how long.
"Are you well, Detective?"
She rolled her eyes towards the dash, feeling her stomach drop as the plane sharply gained altitude. "On top of everything….no, I don't like flying."
"There is nothing to fear, I have tapped into the plane's system. I will know if anything is wrong before the pilots are aware." That wasn't half as assuring as he probably thought it was.
"It's not the crashing that worries me, I just don't like the feeling." She never understood how anyone could relax in a metal tube thousands of feet above where any human had any business being. The only thing between them and a long drop to Earth was a relatively thin sheet of metal.
As strong as they were, she didn't think the Autobots were immune to gravity either.
Amusement tinged his tone for a brief moment. "Ironhide has similar feelings. If you wish, I am sure Ratchet can assist you to sleep through the journey."
She snorted, eyeing the medical truck behind them warily. "No thanks. I may dislike it but I'd rather be conscious for it anyway."
At least for now, her mind could change after ten hours in the air.
It did not, but nor did her stomach settle enough to choke down a MRE when they were passed around. Prowl said nothing the first time she refused, only releasing a quiet but audible vent. When the second round came and she waved them off again, he admonished her. "You need to eat, Detective."
Darcy looked up from the tablet Prowl had provided, packed with electronic copies of all the case files she'd been digging through. Not that she could connect much this way, hard copies were always her preferred media, but it was something to occupy her mind during the long hours. A brief attempt had been made to venture away from the Autobot to converse with the soldiers, but as luck would have it, none of the few she knew had made it onto this plane.
"I'm not hungry." Her attention dropped back to the tablet. Even if she was, she doubted her swirling stomach could handle anything put into it. The plane flew fairly steady, but the turbulence was just enough to keep her from forgetting exactly where she was. "I can eat when we land."
The tablet flickered in her hand, shutting off and refusing to come back on. "That is too long for you to go without nourishment. I thought we had curbed you of this habit."
She rolled her eyes skyward, dropping the tablet into the empty driver's seat. No doubt it would not work again until Prowl allowed it. "I don't like flying, so I don't feel like eating. It won't hurt me any to skip a few meals this one time."
"Care to explain that to Ratchet?" Despite neither Autobot moving an inch, the medic's grill appeared to loom bigger, more threatening.
She scowled at him, "It really isn't a big deal and certainly no need to bring Ratchet into it."
"On the contrary, as I am your Guardian, that makes Ratchet your medical officer." It sounded as if he took some sort of pleasure in that, or at least amusement.
Darcy huffed, this arrangement was going to be a giant pain.
"If I eat right now, I will puke on your seats. I'll be fine without, I'm not that fragile." She pushed against his door, finding it unbudging. "But I could use a walk to stretch my legs."
"You will not skip the third meal, Detective." An order if she'd ever heard one.
Still, he opened his door and allowed her to exit, which she did without hesitation. She was stiff from sitting so long, even if his seats were far more comfortable than those the soldiers were sprawled in. Blowing out a breath, she stalked away from the Charger and towards the front of the cargo hold. There wasn't much room to move around. What space wasn't taken up by the soldiers was occupied by cargo and the Autobots.
Ratchet's back door swung open as she reached him, effectively cutting off her path unless she ducked under it. The temptation was nearly irresistible to do so, but it was hardly like there was any place to go on this plane where some version of himself could not reach, and there were still hours to go in the flight.
"Care to join me for a moment, Ms. Blake?"
She sighed, climbing into the back of the rescue truck and resigning herself to another argument over missing a few lousy MREs.
"I swear it's not a hunger strike or anything like that, I just don't like flying." Better to get it out of the way as quickly as possible. It wasn't as if she could bullshit the medic anyway.
His chuckle took her by surprise. "I am not concerned over a few missed rations. You are hardly the only human on this plane who does not eat when in the air."
Well, unexpected, but she wasn't going to look that gift horse in the mouth.
The medic continued as she took a seat on the bench. "Rather, I wanted to speak with you about Prowl."
"Prowl?" Was something wrong with him? He seemed a little more…touchy today, but that did not seem wholly unexpected given the potential return of Megatron looming over them.
"The Guardianship he claimed over you."
Ah. That.
"He told me he couldn't think of anything else that would prevent NEST from sending me home before it was safe, that it means he's basically my bodyguard that I follow." She let her head thunk back against Ratchet's wall, squeezing her eyes shut. She may have understood his logic, but sometimes logic should just take a hike.
"It is…slightly more complicated than that."
Her eyes opened, narrowing at the metal around her. "Define complicated."
"Guardianship is deeper than a mere promise of protection, it involves a fundamental code switch in the Cybertronian's processor. It is not a claim that we make lightly." Which probably said a lot given that Prowl was the one to make it, but from a logical standpoint…well, he probably felt responsible for her since she'd spent the most time with him.
"A code switch. Are you saying he's going to start mother henning me?" Wouldn't Jazz have a field day with that.
"Not quite to that extreme, but he will be unable to ignore anything he deems a potential threat to your well-being." And a logically-driven 'bot like Prowl would certainly see skipping a meal or two as a threat to her well-being. Good grief.
Darcy released a heavy sigh. "So what, am I like his pet now?"
Given the difference in lifespans and size it probably put her on the level of a cat….or a hamster. Well, she knew just where to shove a hamster ball if he really had just adopted her like some stray.
"No, it is not like that." He vented, as if questioning how far down the rabbit hole he was willing to go. Well, he'd started this conversation, and there were still hours to go before the plane would touch ground again. "We are not a species capable of reproduction like you organics."
For the briefest moment, Darcy's traitorous brain threw up such a cursed image that she wished she could permanently delete it from memory. Gross.
"Jazz told me a little about the Well and sparks coming from your god…or something." She'd never thought beyond it when he'd first told her about it, but now that the idea was in her head, she couldn't help but wonder if they were ever…children. Once upon a time, millennia ago, had Prowl stood no taller than her? It didn't seem likely or even possible, yet it seemed even stranger to think of a being coming to life and just downloading whatever knowledge they would need to get through life as full adults, never to change their appearance or size. How was size even determined? Pre-ordained by their god? Luck? Whatever empty body was lying around?
"Yes, Primus creates new life and those sparks leave the Well when they are mature enough to bond to a protoform. They are small and lack the ability to build armor or change their forms. They are taken in and raised by mature Cybertronians. Guardianship creates a bond between the two, not unlike a blood bond in organics."
"So he…adopted me?" She wasn't sure which was honestly worse, to be considered his pet or his child.
"Guardianship is not limited to sparklings. It can be claimed for any being of any age, typically one of a smaller size than the Guardian."
She furrowed her brow. "So technically speaking, you could claim Guardianship of Jazz, since he's smaller than you?"
"If I despised my own sanity enough to be bonded to that 'bot, yes, I could." Given his tone, he failed to find any humor in the idea.
"So Guardianship is claiming someone as family," she scrunched her nose, "is it one-sided unless the other returns the claim?"
Was there going to be some expectation of her now? She certainly hoped not.
"No, it does not work the same for organics, but it creates a bond between the sparks of the two involved. They can feel each other, in a sense. It is a risk to the Guardian, an unnatural end to their charge tears the bond. It is an injury to the spark that cannot be repaired. I have seen 'bots driven mad by the loss, until they themselves became a threat to all those around them."
Darcy's eyes widened, her gut sinking. "You mean Prowl could go mad when I die?"
How in the hell was that option in any way logical? It was the opposite of logical! It was idiotic!
"Unlikely. For one, it is the Guardians not in control of their emotions that tend toward insanity." Well, that was good news at least, Prowl was probably the least emotional living being she'd ever met. "For another, a proper bond requires two sparks. It is physically impossible for him to form the bond with you. When you pass on, there will be no damage to his spark."
So it wasn't as serious with her as it would have been with another Cybertronian. She supposed that made perfect sense then. All the benefits of keeping the human government out of things, none of the risks involved with claiming it with one of his own kind.
"So it's not really that big of a deal then, since it's me. Just a convenient means to an end." That made her feel ironically better about it. At least Prowl wouldn't end up hurt at the end of things, whether it be this year or decades from now.
"He cannot form the bond with you, but that does not reduce the meaning of his claim. As I said, it is a fundamental change in his coding to prioritize your safety, and he will not have the bond to assure him of such when you are out of his sight."
Darcy rubbed a tired hand over her face. Risking the danger to go home sounded like it was really the more logical decision here. What the hell had Prowl been thinking? "So he is going to mother hen me?"
"For a time, possibly, until he learns to adjust to the change. Just have patience with him, he has never claimed Guardianship before."
Darcy couldn't help but bluster for a moment. "And I just get no say in this?"
Ratchet paused, "A bond can be denied when the claim is made, or the sparks can block the bond from forming if they are not compatible. I confess that claims to organic beings are not common, and those that have been made have not been met with…resistance."
Right, she was the first meat sack to not jump for joy over gaining a permanent bodyguard who would take personal offense to skipping a meal or stubbing a toe.
"Do not fret, Ms. Blake, Prowl will remain himself, and I have little doubt that he will curb the programming should you still desire to leave us." The words should have been a relief, but there was something in Ratchet's tone that suggested ignoring the programming to let her leave was not quite as simple and painless as it sounded. If he would fret simply because he couldn't see her, what damage would it do to his mind for her to be gone, far from his ability to protect?
And could she, knowing that, leave anyway?
She let her head knock against the metal several times, the echo of slamming doors ringing in her ears.
Damn him. Damn the Autobots and Decepticons and this whole damn mess.
"Ms. Blake," Ratchet broke the temporary silence he'd allowed her to stew in, halting her abuse of her skull and bringing her attention back to him. "It is not a trap, nor need it be permanent, but it is a demonstration of his high regard for you. That, I would not take lightly."
Why he had such regard for her, she hadn't a clue. It wasn't as if she solved crimes at any level near to his ability, or had done anything to critically aid the Autobots. Perhaps it was merely dumb luck, maybe she was the first detective he'd ever met. "It's not permanent?"
If it wasn't permanent, then why the big deal over it? It involved some kind of bond and code switching but if they could just…turn it off, then it wasn't really that special, right?
"No, not entirely. Some sparklings eventually surpass their Guardians in size and strength, and the bond is no longer needed. Some bonds fade with distance and time. Those bonds fade and close, but they do not break. It is like…a fishing line where once was a living vine." She wondered if Rachet had ever made such a bond, if he had a vine or a thin line to remind him of what once was there.
That they could form a literal sparkbond with one of their own was itself a thing of wonder that she could barely wrap her mind around. "But what about Guardianships with organics?"
As interesting as it was learning more about their own culture, in this particular instance it was how it was going to work for her that she was concerned about. Prowl likely wouldn't go insane when she died, but that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt him if she left and he couldn't turn the Guardianship off.
"With enough time, the programming will fade." With enough time, Prowl could forget about this momentary lapse in judgment. With enough time, he would go back to himself.
Though Ratchet had conveniently failed to mention how much time would be enough. Her own lifespan was so small compared to his. Would enough time be a year or a century?
The unknowns felt endless and a distant part of her mind whispered that it was her inability to understand that bothered her. It was done. Guardianship had been claimed. Prowl knew what he was doing. He wouldn't have done it on a whim or without considering every detail of what he was doing. All it would affect her was this detour to Diego Garcia, and perhaps Prowl's holoform appearing with food a little more often until he adjusted.
Her mind darted in circles. She trusted him and he knew what he was doing. Then again, he'd never claimed it before, so maybe he didn't. But if there was no real bond to form to prove it, maybe he'd said the words without really meaning them. Maybe the touchy behavior was just exhaustion and stress after all. It wasn't as if the government would know if a claim was real or not. It would have been the more logical choice. Unless of course, there was some way the other Autobots could tell if he lied, if they would out him for it. But he knew what he was doing and she should trust that.
The pressure behind her eyes built in strength and tempo, thumping an irritating rhythm against her skull.
Ratchet's interior lights dimmed, as if he could sense her building headache. He probably could. "It is late, Ms. Blake, you should get some rest. You may do so here if you prefer."
She blinked, glancing at the gurney that took up the other side of the truck. It was certainly roomier back here than it was in Prowl's backseat. "Uh, thanks Ratchet, but I'm okay for now."
The medic may intimidate her less stuck in his vehicle mode as he was, but she wasn't that comfortable.
His rear door popped back open. "Then I suggest you go find rest where you will get it, and instruct Prowl to recharge before I put him into stasis lock."
She snorted, well, that answered that question. Yes, Ratchet was willing to at least threaten to knock Prowl out like he'd done to Jazz. "I'll see what I can do."
The noise outside of the rescue truck had declined severely from when she entered, the roar of the plane's engines drowning out any remaining conversations going on. Overhead lights had dimmed to red, and coming around Ratchet's side revealed a good portion of the soldiers slouched and spread wherever they could find the space to sleep. Returning to Prowl was a far more tedious process than leaving him had been with the new obstacles.
There really wasn't any reason to return to him. Despite the cramped conditions, there was room for her to sit among the men.
Prowl's door opened silently as she came closer, inviting her back to his seats which he'd laid down again for her to sleep. She climbed in, the door shutting behind her, cutting off the rumbling engines.
She'd never be able to sleep out in all that racket anyway.
His tinted windows put her in near perfect darkness, a soft breeze of warm air chasing away the chill of the plane.
Maybe a nap to pass some of the flight wasn't such a bad idea after all.
"Ratchet says to sleep or he's knocking you out himself," she told him, closing her eyes.
"I shall recharge while you sleep. Rest well, Detective."
His frame settled, the sigil on his steering wheel dimming as he did exactly that.
Darcy sighed, hoping that when she opened her eyes again, there'd be firm ground beneath her feet.
Chapter 24: It's Just the Programming
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The cargo plane touched down roughly, momentum fighting to throw Darcy-and everyone else-towards the nose of the plane as the pilots hit the brakes to slow their speed.
She'd lost count of the hours, but it'd felt like longer than it should have. No one had been allowed to disembark the plane when they'd touched down for fuel, a fact Darcy had been rather sour about. But now the flight was finally overfor good. They had landed on Diego Garcia, her new home for the foreseeable future.
To save herself from getting underfoot of all the soldiers preparing to exit the plane, she returned to Prowl's passenger seat, her leg bouncing with nervous energy. The Autobot, for his part, made no comment about it.
The cargo plane rumbled along the tarmac, slowing ever further until it finally came to a halt. Not even Prowl's frame could block the hiss that escaped the bay doors as the ramp cracked open, lowering to release them upon the island. There was nothing but blinding light to see at first, Darcy and the soldiers squinting at the sudden onslaught to their vision. The ramps continued to drop, revealing cloudless skies and black pavement guiding the way towards a hanger that could easily fit the cargo plane itself.
Prowl rolled forward the moment the ramp clanged against the ground, the soldiers trotting off alongside.
Darcy glanced around as they exited the aircraft, taking note of all-the little that it was-that she could see. Several other planes had already landed, soldiers unloading cargo as another rolled in behind them. A handful of Autobots stood out in the open with them, gesturing in some direction or picking up massive crates and carrying them into one of the several hangers that stood open. Ratchet rolled off behind them, transforming once he was far enough to not bang his head on the tail of the plane and shouting something about his medbay still being in one piece.
"You can walk around here?" Other than necessity during confrontations with Decepticons, she hadn't seen a single Autobot walk about outside. They'd always kept it confined to the base.
"NEST has secured this side of the island, the surrounding airspace, and water. There is no risk of us being seen here. Your governments would prefer if we did not, but it is…nice to stretch our legs, as you humans say." His words made her realize just how confined they really were. She'd never asked about it, but surely staying in the form of a car all the time had to feel…confining, if not stifling. To only be able to walk around, to bethemselveswhen they were underground or in a fight…well, she knew she'd go stir crazy.
He rolled away from the hub of activity, revealing a line of what looked to be a bunch of hangers attached together to make one sprawling, interconnected, Autobot-sized compound. A few structures stood separate; older, human-sized buildings with a steady stream of soldiers going in and out and had to be the barracks and mess hall. Prowl came to a slow stop in front of the latter. "I allowed you to skip your meals on the flight, but you must refuel now."
Granted, he'd only allowed her to skip those meals after Ratchet so kindly stepped in to tell him that it was normal for humans and she would be fine.
It was just the programming. He would get used to it.
She tugged at her shirt that she'd effectively been wearing for near on two days now. "Any chance I can do a shower first?"
"Detective…" His tone was a clear warning that she was fast approaching his limits. "It has been nearly 30 hours since you last consumed anything. You should be famished."
"I am! But I'll eat more if I can do itclean."
He vented but relented, his tires rolling forward once more to a few odd stares from the soldiers filing out towards the landing planes.
Right. The soldiers at the dam had adjusted to her presence around Prowl quickly enough, but now there was a whole slew of new men and women who knewhimbut had never heard of her.
Prowl bypassed the barracks, returning instead to the main compound. Still more planes were landing and unloading their cargo, though he did not return to that hive of movement. Instead he went around to the opposite side of the compound, where a small offchute wing that was definitely older than the rest of the building stood in sun-bleached, human-sized glory. Prowl's door popped open on its own, the heat and humidity slamming into her like a brick.
Ugh.
At least Nevada's heat had beendry.
Shielding her eyes from the cheery afternoon sun, Darcy stepped out onto the pavement. Prowl's holoform stepped around his rear bumper, her duffel in hand. He led the way through the human-sized door, revealing a hallway lined with doors marked with numbers. Prowl opened the door marked '27', tipping his head to indicate she should walk in first.
It wasn't much different from her room at the dam, except for the window back in the bedroom. A vast improvement from being underground, at least. Prowl let her poke her head around the little apartment without comment, handing the duffel off as she passed by.
The place had obviously been rapidly cleaned recently, the tang of disinfectant still hanging in the air. No doubt this base had been a madhouse in the last day preparing for the sudden influx of incoming personnel. "I really don't need this, I'd be fine in the barracks."
Not that she didn't deeply appreciate having her own space to retreat to, but this was clearly meant for an Officer and she was just a civilian.
Prowl raised a brow. "Do not be absurd. You are closer to my office here."
Right, closer for him to keep a closer eye on, cause his programming now demanded it. Or something.
The thought tugged at a notion that had popped into her mind earlier, and now seemed as good a time as any to ask. After all, it had to be a possibility.
"Prowl…" She didn't know if her room was bugged or something. They certainly had little and less reason to, but it was still a possibility. Then again, the Autobot who the holoform leaning against her counter belonged to certainly had it within his power to block any bugs he didn't want listening. "Did you actually claim Guardianship? Or just say you did so that I could come here? I mean, since you can't form the bond with humans anyway, they'd never know."
Everything would be simpler if the latter was the truth; if it was all just a lie to get his way, then it really wouldn't matter at all, not the programming and not what his claim meant. After all, he'd lied to NEST before about it. Ratchet had believed it was genuine, but maybe that was just part of the deception?
Prowl's holoform cocked his head at her as though confused that she had even asked the question. "I do not make a habit of proclaiming falsehoods to Optimus, nor would it be logical to attempt as such when Rachet's scanners would know otherwise."
"Right." She nodded once, unable to control the slight furrow of her brow. It was legit then, he'd made the claim. It was logical to keep her alive and away from Barricade, and the target on her back was no larger since the Decepticons had believed he'd already made the claim. But it did mean that his programming had been affected, which, frankly, was probably why he was still in her new quarters to begin with. He'd need to know she was safe and did eventually follow through with her promise to eat.
But shower first, then food, then she could start worrying about this new complication.
"Detective," Prowl's voice cut off her retreat to the bathroom and she paused. Maybe the repaired holoprojector was glitching again, because it looked like something akin to regret had flashed across his face. "I am aware that the motivation of logical choice is not…entirely comforting to most."
She blinked owlishly at him before his meaning clicked. No, having the reasons be 'it was logical' did not tend to stir warm and fuzzy emotions in people, regardless of what the choice had been. But in this case, she was glad for it. Tying her to him, changing hisprogramming, was how he saw was best to keep her alive. While she did still desperately want to go home, desperately didnotwant to be on this island, she did prefer staying alive and unsquashed beneath Barricade's foot. And well, he was willing to do it to saveher. That was…well that went beyond just taking a bullet.
"In this case, it is." She assured him, "I still would have preferred a say…and some warning, but you did it for my sake." She wasn't about to thank him for uprooting her lifeagain, though she knew she should. "I'm not happy about all of this but…I understand."
His head cocked slightly to one side before nodding once and Darcy used that dismissal to slip into the bathroom. She had a day's worth of plane travel to wash off.
Though her mind found no great breakthrough under the spray, she did at least feel remarkably more human once clean and in fresh clothes. Whether called away for his own duties or comfortable in the fact that the worst that could happen in the apartment was a little red island crab pinching an unwary toe, Prowl's holoform had vanished by the time she came out.
Unlike the dam, the sounds of the outside made it through the walls. The dull thrum of large planes, muffled shouts of soldiers calling orders, the growls of humvee engines, all joining into a low cacophony of background noise that, while it wasn't home, was certainly leagues better than the silence of underground.
Now she just had to hope that this stay wouldn't be any longer than the last.
Her nose itched, she rubbed it away. Time to refind that mess hall.
The heat and humidity were not any less oppressive when she stepped back outside, adjusting the collar of her blazer. Somehow she knew it would be a hopeless wish that this weather was not the norm.
She didn't know exactly what time it was, it had to be late afternoon, given the lack of soldiers getting food. That or they were all still tied up in getting the planes emptied. A twinge of guilt hit her that she wasn't helping in that endeavor. But she wasn't a part of NEST, she wasn't a soldier, she was just a civilian who got temporarily caught up in this mess. She wondered if any other civilians had an Autobot for a Guardian. Hadn't Jazz mentioned a teenage boy during the Mission City fiasco? Was he still around or had he been cut loose to return to his life?
Ignoring the curious looks as she settled with a cold sandwich, she wondered if it wouldn't be prudent to attempt to find some alternative uniform she could wear. The civvie clothes made her stand out like a sore thumb in the midst of all the men and women in fatigues. Then again, the alternative might make her look like a politician. Better to look out of place.
Stepping back into the sun, Darcy found herself with nothing to occupy her time. At some point she figured she would return to the search for the Decepticon base, but those files were either still in Nevada or on a cargo plane somewhere. Prowl had confiscated the tablet before they landed, citing 'security upgrades' as the reasoning. Her options appeared to be to stare at the empty walls in her room or to stare out at the empty ocean. She went with the latter, leaving the blacktop for soft sand that shifted under her boots. Sparkling blue waters stretched as far as the eye could see, unbroken by any vessel.
Letting her rear fall back into the sand, she wondered how her life had taken such a drastic turn. Only four months ago she had been just another detective in Idaho, cursing snow-slick roads and lamenting that her mentor was retiring and she wouldn't see him every day.
Now she didn't know if she'd ever see him again, ever seehomeagain. And what was she? Not a detective, even if Prowl still called her such. Just the charge of an Autobot and stuck on an island in the middle of the ocean, hoping that an alien war would go the right way.
She snorted to herself. Somehow her life had turned into a bad Sci-fi movie.
And what if it all went how they wanted? What if they found the Decepticon base, leveled it, and defeated their enemy once and for all? The Autobots didn't have a home planet to return to. Would they stay here? Go home and try to figure out a way to restore their planet? And what about her? If she got everything she wanted, if she got to go home and get her job back, could she do it? The curtain had been lifted, could she actually go back to her old life like nothing happened?
Getting carted to this island put off answering that question and a small part couldn't help but be grateful. She had no idea what she would do with herself if shecouldn'tfall back into her old life. What else would there be for her?
"Thought I might find you out here." Darcy blinked up at the shadow looming over her, finding, to her surprise, Major Lennox looking down at her.
"I didn't want to get in the way." She shrugged, further surprised when he plopped down next to her. Lennox was a good man, no doubt about it, but except for a handful of conversations they didn't interact much.
He nodded absently, his gaze scanning the water. "You aren't the first one to come out here and wonder how the hell they got here or how they got saddled with a 6 ton Guardian."
A rueful smile tugged his lip as he rested an arm on his bent knee. Darcy tipped her head, "I'm not sure which is a more intimidating thought for a Guardian, Prowl or Ironhide."
"Prowl, by far," Lennox answered without hesitation. "Ironhide just threatens people with his cannons. Prowl can be scarily devious when he puts his mind to it. I've seen him deal with the twins."
He chuckled lightly before sobering. "Ironhide, at least, has claimed Guardianship before, so he knew what he was signing on for. It took some adjusting for him to figure out how it's different with a human and it wasn't always easy for me to adjust to either. But we figured it out and we work better together because of it."
Darcy leaned back on her hands, idly digging her heel into the sand. "Prowl's never claimed Guardianship before."
And they weren't partners in work either, there would be no benefit there.
"No, but those who have will help him figure it out."
While Ratchet had answered her questions from the Cybertronian perspective, she realized Lennox would know exactly what she was in for from thehumanperspective.
More or less anyway.
"Did Ironhide ask you, before he made the claim?"
Lennox picked up a little red crab by the body, tossing the little critter into the waves. "He did. It was when we were first setting up NEST, after Mission City. Things were calm on the fighting front, so we had the time to talk it over. I'm sure if we had the time, Prowl would have…"
"It's not that," Darcy interjected. She already knew why he hadn't talked to her, the logic behind his decision. "What made you say yes?"
The soldier looked out at the crashing waves for several moments. "Hide is…he's not just my friend, he's family. Guardianship just makes it official and allows him to come home with me when we get leave. Annabelle loves him and he adores her."
Pulling out his phone, he flipped to a photo and showed it to her. There was Ironhide, in all his big-cannon-toting glory, with both hands cupped under a tiny child no more than three. The smile on the little girl was near splitting her face, beaming brighter than any kid on Christmas morning. The Autobot looked far less intimidating than usual, his entire posture curled as if to protect her from the world.
It was not an image she expected to see of the weapons specialist.
"How did your wife take it?" Surely that had to be a shock, to learn that aliens were real and one was now a Guardian to her husband and would come with on leave. How did she come to accept it so quickly? Enough to trust him with her kid?
"She hit him with a cast iron pan." Lennox offered in a deadpan, stuffing the phone back in his pocket. "Then threatened me with it for not telling her sooner. That was when I discovered Guardianship does not include protection from an irate wife."
He chuckled at her shocked look. "I'm pretty sure Optimus and Prowl are the only ones not cowed by Sarah and her frying pan."
Not to self, Darcy mused humorously, get an iron pan asap.
"I'm not going to lie to you, he's going to drive you crazy at first, though you'll have the benefit of him actually knowing how much food and rest a human is supposed to get." He shook his head at some resurfaced memory. "But once he gets used to it, you won't even notice a difference anymore, not really."
"What about if he gets a mission?" Ratchet had said without the bond it would be the visual contact that would assure Prowl she was okay. Would she be expected to go along so he could keep her in sight or would she be expected to stay here, where he'd know where she was? Not that she had any desire whatsoever to get anywhere near a Decepticon ever again, but the prospect of not getting to leave this island until the 'Cons were defeated was hardly an appealing alternative.
The Major shrugged. "Prowl doesn't go into the field as often as some of the other Autobots, but the distance doesn't seem to bother them too much. Bumblebee is still our primary scout despite being a Guardian to Sam…another civilian. I think 'Hide would prefer if he could leave me here sometimes, but he doesn't get that choice."
He put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing softly. "I wouldn't worry about any of that. We dealt the 'Cons a serious blow in Washington. They'll lick their wounds for some time still."
As if to punctuate the irony of his words, the ground shook with a large explosion, the rumble of it like thunder on the horizon. Darcy jerked, though Lennox's hand still on her shoulder kept her on the ground. "Wait for it…"
Following the explosion came a short, buzzing alarm that lasted only for a few seconds before cutting out. Darcy could see no surge in activity, no response to the explosion. The man next to her remained entirely relaxed.
"That's the Wheeljack alarm, it tells us that whatever just blew up was one of his experiments in his lab." He shook his head with an amused grin, gesturing towards a stand-alone hanger set far apart from the rest of the compound. Black smoke poured from the open doors. "Not an attack."
Darcy watched the distant hanger as an Autobot tumbled out of it, batting away at purple flames on his arm. Somehow she'd managed to never see his real body while at the Hoover Dam, only ever his Robin Williams holoform. The primarily white color scheme was streaked with black burn marks. Jazz had mentioned he was an inventor, but that it was always best to let someoneelsetry out new inventions first.
"This…happens a lot?" What on earth would he be inventing that explosions were acommonenough occurance to warrant an alarm specifically to tell the whole base that it was just his work going 'boom' again?
"More than any of us, particularly Ratchet, would like. Humans are banned from entering that hanger. I wouldn't even go near it if I were you…unless you want to give Prowl an aneurysm, of course."
She doubted Prowl could do anything that would aggravate her enough to warrant risking going near that hanger just to bug him. No, she made a mental note to give that lab awideberth.
"I like living, so you can count on me to steer clear." The distant Autobot had successfully extinguished the flames on himself and now stood scratching his head. Under the scorch marks, some green and red accents littered his frame, but Darcy couldn't make out what his vehicle mode would be.
The Major's phone buzzed loudly and he sighed as he glanced at it. Apparently duty texted too. Darcy waved him off. "Go on Major, you have crises to avert."
He snorted, but stood, brushing the sand from his pants. "Hardly a real crisis."
Giving her shoulder one last supportive squeeze, he tipped his head towards the main hangers. "If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to find me, even if what you need is Prowl sent on patrol for a few hours."
Her lips twitched in amusement. "You can do that?"
Despite the respect she knew the tactician had for the Major, she doubted he, as the Autobot SIC, would follow orders he could argue as being less than absolutely necessary.
Lennox chuckled with a shake of his head. "Me? Oh no. But Prime can."
Shooting her a wink, the soldier sauntered off back towards his duties.
Darcy watched him go for a minute before turning her gaze back towards the ocean, entertaining herself with thoughts of Optimus ordering Prowl on patrol duty because he was hovering too much. Yet it seemed unlikely to ever come to that, given he'd already left her over an hour ago.
Maybe they were all underestimating Prowl's ability to adjust to the new programming. Maybe his battle computer could override it. Maybe it wouldn't really be like anything had changed.
The sand quickly grew uncomfortably hot, but Darcy kept her seat despite it as time ticked by. It was a simple, uncomplicated kind of discomfort, the heat and feel of the sand grounding. A very human problem, not life threatening or hard to fix. The grains slid through her fingers, the rolling waves drowned any sounds from the base, and the sun beat down from above, the same as it did in any Idaho summer.
Her world may have been flipped upside-down in these last few months, but it was still her world; it was still familiar, if she knew where to look.
A shadow fell over her again, the waves and the sand muffling the approach of what could only be an Autobot. She tipped her head back, finding Prowl blocking the sun from reaching her.
"Detective, you are turning red."
Darcy blinked at her arms covered by the blazer meant for cooler climates before pressing the back of her hand to her cheek. Yep, heat was radiating from her skin. Not enough to indicate a full burn, but enough to serve as a warning that she was better off getting out of the sun for now.
She huffed at the lack of warning as his scanners swept over her, leaning back on her hands to look up at him without craning her neck too much. From the ground, he loomed even taller than usual. "Is that really necessary?"
"Your temperature is elevated above your normal range. Are you feeling well?" Hydraulics hissed and his knee hit the sand next to her. She looked at it, surprised by how close he was. She could reach out and touch him, could see her reflection in the black panel of his armor, could see a hint of the intricate mess of metal and wires underneath.
"I'm fine, it's just hot out." She looked up to meet his gaze, shrugging lightly. He was still blocking the sun completely, which she suspected was not necessarily accidental.
"Other humans seek cover from such conditions," he chided, dropping his hand in invitation.
Darcy looked at it, but did not move. She shrugged again. "Being too hot, a little sunburnt, it's anormaldiscomfort, it's human."
The sand buckled beneath her and she squawked at finding herself involuntarily rising into the air, her soft seat cascading down between the tactician's fingers. "Prowl! Warning!"
She latched onto his thumb to steady herself, cursing the sand that had allowed him to quite literally scoop her up.
"It is not optimal for your body to sustain elevated stress levels." Standing to his full height, he turned back towards the hangers and the hive of activity. At least it looked like all the cargo planes had finally landed and several had already taxied away from the hanger and towards the other end of the airfield, where a fleet of aircraft sat.
"You don't say." Darcy huffed with a roll of her eyes, scowling as Prowl raised his other hand to continue blocking the sun from reaching her, but also effectively blocked her view of everything else. She tipped her head back until it lightly thunked against his chassis, frowning up at the Autobot who was not currently looking at her. "What are you doing?"
He flicked her only a brief glance, his stride not wavering. "Moving you to cover, as you appeared disinclined to do so yourself."
"Prowl," she cut herself off with a growl, sucking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He couldn't help it. It was just the Guardianship programming. It would fade. Racking her knuckles against his frame, she forced his attention back down. "I was fine out there, a little sun wasn't going to hurt me and I needed the fresh air. "
"The air is no different in the hanger as on the beach." His footsteps clanked loudly against the blacktop, drowning out the crash of the waves.
"It's more crowded." She probably sounded petulant, but she couldn'tcompletelyrelease her annoyance at beingliterally scoopedfrom her quiet solitude.
"There is safety in numbers."
"And an increased risk of getting underfoot." Particularly among large numbers of Autobots, though in her time around them they seemed to avoid squishing anyone not quick enough to get out of the way with near subconscious ease. Given their size, it appeared some supernatural form of awareness. Or maybe they just had sensors to warn them of potential trip hazards. Still, it wasn't something she was willing to wholly trust, not like the soldiers did.
"Not so long as I have you."
The roll of Darcy's eyes was tinged with amusement. The words may have been delivered in typical Prowl fashion, but the words themselves were just a little ridiculous.
"You can't carry me everywhere…and Iwouldappreciate youaskingbefore you just pick me up. It's not the most natural feeling you know, suddenly getting lifted like that."
"I offered for you to make the choice willingly, you ignored it. I will not stand by and allow self destructive behavior to continue." His steps paused, presumably to allow a C-17 to taxi by, judging by the sound, though Darcy could see little beyond the tarmac directly in front of them.
She blew out a longer breath, willing her tongue to hold. They would get nowhere if she let him prod her temper. "It wasnotself destructive."
"You have first degree burns, Detective." His pace resumed, the fading jet engines replaced by the noise of soldiers barking orders to each other.
"Hardly. My skin gets red fast in the spring. It'll fade by tomorrow."
"And until then, you will remain out of the sun so as to not worsen your condition."
Darcy dropped her face into her hands, wondering if it would be too early to call in that favor to send Prowl on patrol.
"Prowl," she groaned, unable to keep some of the exasperation out of her tone. Really, he was being ridiculous. Her cheeks were at worstrosy, and no more so than if she'd imbibed a few drinks.
"Detective." He dropped his view-blocking hand as he stepped under the cover of a hanger. It was not, blessedly, the center of activity, though there were a fair number of soldiers moving about below. "I am your Guardian, it is my duty to keep you safe."
"Safe from Decepticons, which in case you hadn't noticed, there's none here, so I think we can check that box and call it good." Honestly, with the Autobots, the soldiers, and the restriction of getting here only by plane, this was probably the safest place on the planet.
"Safe from whatever I have the power to protect you from, even if it is yourself, and even if you do not appreciate my efforts," Prowl corrected, continuing deeper into the hanger and keeping her firmly in his grip, tucked against his chassis.
He couldn't help it, she reminded herself, even though hewasthe one who had made the choice to activate the programming in the first place. But he'd never done it before, he hadn't really understood just what it was that he was getting into. Give him time, give him grace.
Gods above, give her patience.
"Prowler! Darcy!" Sideswipe's cheerful voice cut across the noise of the hanger. Prowl paused as the silver frontliner skated directly into his path. Well,formerlysilver frontliner. For a moment Darcy only saw Knock Out, but the lines of the armor were wrong, his cheerful and friendly smile were wrong. It was Sideswipe somehow standing before them, looking entirely unlike himself. The silver paint scheme of his armor had been replaced by a deep cherry red. But it wasn't just the paint, no, his armor had changed. Not by much, but just enough to throw off the lines of his silhouette. "Looks good on me, no?"
He spun in a little circle to show himself off. He was still all sleek lines of a fast car, but with a sharper edge where once had been the softer curves of a corvette. The harsher angles made him look even less like the Decepticon medic and more like…well…himself.
"You got your upgrade." Darcy dimly remembered seeing the red lamborghini at the other base and how Lennox had said Prowl's punishment for him was not telling him it was there. Evidently, his punishment had finally come to an end.
She had to admit, the look suited him.
"You've got to try it out!" Sideswipe lurched forward, no doubt intending to pluck her from Prowl's grasp.
The tactician's free hand clanged loudly against Sideswipe's chassis, grabbing the new armor and using it to roughly shove the frontliner back.
"Ack, watch the paint!" Sideswipe pinwheeled his arms for a moment to steady himself again, his gaze frantically searching the armor for any scratches left by Prowl's less than friendly handling.
"Try that again and you will spend a week in the brig." Prowl turned slightly to keep Darcy effectively out of Sideswipe's reach, though the red Autobot did not seem particularly inclined to try again.
"Easy, Prowler, I just wanted to take her for a joyride! Show the doll what real speed is like." Despite the near tangible threat of danger coming off of the tactician, he grinned at Darcy, throwing her a teasing wink. Doubtless it was as much meant to tease Prowl and the detective couldn't help but roll her eyes.
"You're kind of a nuisance, you know that right?" she asked, raising her brows as he rolled back and forth, unable to stand still. Not that a joyride in a lamborghinididn'tsound fun, particularly since she couldn't accidentally damage him, but she hadn't yet trustedJazzto 'take her for a joyride' and this wasSideswipe. She didn't know what the 0 to 60 rate was that could cause whiplash, but she was certain the frontliner could hit it.
Sideswipe paused long enough to cock his hip to one side and gesture to himself. "Darlin', I may make thislookeffortless, but it doesnothappen by accident."
"Come on you overgrown pain in my aft, we have patrol duty and you know how fragged off he gets when you mess with his human." Sunstreaker stalked by, shoving his twin roughly out of the way without glancing over at Prowl or her, for which she was thankful. While he'd neverthreatened, his apparent disdain for nearly everyone aside from his brother (and even that seemed questionable at times) still set her on edge.
"Next time then, doll, when the roadblock isn't hovering." Sideswipe mock saluted with another wink, dropping to his fancy new alt mode and skidding a donut before rocketing out of the hanger on his brother's yellow tail.
Darcy could have cursed him. If Prowl had planned to leave her on her own at any point in the near future, those plans had probably just gone up in smoke. Hoping to distract him from the implied promise, the detective gestured towards the two vanished supercars. "I thought the purpose of the car modes was to blend in, hide in plain sight? Lamborghinis and those color schemes aren't exactly subtle."
"No, they are not subtle." Prowl vented with his agreement, resuming his original trek to who-knew-where. "But the aerodynamics of your supercars allow them to reach their maximum speed, which could mean the difference between victory and defeat on the battlefield. And I would rather not have to listen to them complain about ugly alt modes."
Darcy snorted and wondered how much aerodynamicsreallyhad to do with it. Sideswipe did seem rather happy about his upgrade and a happy troublemaker was probably less likely to get bored and start pulling pranks. Even if it did mean he wanted to give everyone a test drive.
"Why did they go on patrol, aren't we on an island?" She had assumed that nothing could sneak up on them this far out into the ocean. After all, radar or sonar should pick up anything approaching unscheduled.
"The total surface area of this island may be small, but it is approximately 56 miles in length and NEST controls less than half of it. Patrols help us to ensure that the Decepticons are not sneaking in from the other side and it keeps us in the practice of patrolling regularly." He paused for a brief moment, as if considering adding on the next part or not. "And it occupies the twins for a few hours."
AKA: It gave them something to do and got them out of his hair.
"And do you go on these patrols?" A few hours might not be much if he was driving her crazy, but it might save her sanity if he was really going to 'protect' her from her own 'self destructive' behaviors.
Prowl regarded her for a short moment, as if he could read her thoughts. His tone, thankfully, did not sound like he had heard her line of thinking. "Of course. We must all stay in the practice to remain alert, lest the Decepticons catch us unaware."
Now she'd just need to figure out what the schedule was. Jazz was the obvious source, but as far as she knew he was still on the mainland. Sideswipe might help…for a price. She wasn't sure which likely option would be more hazardous for her health: going for a joyride or getting involved in one of his pranks.
Prowl turned down a narrow hall line with Autobot-sized doors. Well, oversized garage doors was probably a more appropriate description. A human-sized door sat next to each, but all of those were shut save for one, which Prowl continued past without pausing. Darcy caught only a glimpse through the accompanying opened roll-up door, but it was hard to miss the massive form of Optimus Prime taking up a good portion of the room. He seemed to have been looking at some kind of giant screen, but anything else was quickly blocked from view as Prowl paused only once he reached the next closed door, pressing a large switch that was sticking out of a roughly cut hole. With an unfortunate amount of noise, the door slowly raised, revealing a room a mirror of where she'd just glimpsed Optimus.
An oversized metal chair behind an oversized metal desk, with an oversized screen and odd-looking keyboard to match. A stack of Cybertronian-sized tablets were neatly piled in one corner.
Clearly this was Prowl's office, but the weld lines on the furniture, the rattling door, the computer screen that was definitely multiple monitors somehow joined together, all made it look more like a poor graduate student's office than that of a high ranking member of an alien race.
The hand holding her moved away from his body to deposit her onto the empty side of his desk, her legs dangling over the edge. It had to be near an eight-foot drop to the ground below. Not impossible, if she hung off the edge, but not a height she had any desire to bail from. Her days of jumping fences to chase perps were too far behind her.
"This isn't Cybertronian tech, is it?" Not even the keyboard, which was arranged in an unfamiliar fashion with alien glyphs, looked like anything that could have possibly come from a species so advanced that they had mastered space travel…or were living machines themselves.
"No it is not." Prowl vented a sigh as he sat, the screen flaring to life and displaying nothing that she could hope to decipher. "It is the best that Ratchet and Wheeljack could create with human technology, but their expertise lies elsewhere. It is mostly functional and serves its purpose."
Curiosity pricked at her mind and she wondered just what their actual tech would look like. Could they develop it here on Earth or did the materials not exist? Might they ever seek to rebuild any of their home here? Or would they be relegated to repurposed human technology and military hangers?
It wasn't her world or her business, but neither did it seem likely that she would be able to put this all behind her any time soon. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to satisfy her curiosity a little. It certainly could only help her search for the Decepticons if she understood their species better.
And maybe it would be a little cool to see how they had lived and just how advanced their tech had been.
Prowl reached for his stack of oversized tablets. They weren't quite the same as the tablets humans used. Maybe these were actual Cybertronian tech that one of them had brought with them?
He lifted one, the screen lighting to his touch, and held it next to a much smaller version. Both screens mirrored each other, with lines of their language flowing quickly for a moment before the smaller stopped and turned back to a screen she recognized.
"Your tablet. While the physical case files have yet to be delivered, I assume you wish to continue your work here." The little computer looked humorously tiny in his hand as he held it out to her. Darcy grabbed it before he could change his mind. At least that answered what she would be doing during her stay.
"Yes, I do. Thank you." Swiping through the files showed no noticeable changes from whatever he had done to it. Maybe he had been serious about the security upgrade after all.
"I have requisitioned a desk of your own to be set up here, so that you may work more comfortably. I have been assured it will be delivered early tomorrow." He gestured towards his left side, where a corner of the room was empty save for a raised platform with a single chair sitting in the middle. It looked like it might be where Lennox or any other human might sit if they needed to meet with Prowl. The platform put them on almost equal standing. It looked like there was even a large corkboard secured to the wall, large enough for the map she'd had in her room at the old base.
"Not that I don't appreciate it, but I am fine working on this in my room like before." Not that she had a problem being around Prowl, not really-which in itself was a shocking thing to confess to herself-but sometimes she just thought clearer sipping on coffee in her own kitchen.
"On the contrary, the tablet will not function in your living quarters." Prowl's attention was solely on his main computer screen now, glyphs scrolling by as he tapped the keys of the modified keyboard.
Darcy narrowed her eyes, looking at his flat expression carefully. "And whynot?"
Taking her work home with her-even if home was figurative-had never been an issue before, nor had it been a new habit. She'd had case files in her house since the day she became a detective.
"It is not healthy for the human psyche to work and rest in the same area. It interferes with your body's ability to properly relax."
She raised her brows, crossing her arms. "That wasn't a problem before."
"You lacked a proper office from which to complete your work. That issue has been rectified." She hadn't completely explored every part of the Hoover Dam while she'd been there, but it had appeared to have lacked somewhat in the office space. With such a large force of NEST operatives and Autobots, there likely was little space for such a thing. Prowl had spent most of his time in the conference center with Optimus.
"It wasn't an issue in Idaho."
"I was not aware of the risk at that time, nor did I deem it necessary to enforce as it was easier to control the flow of information by keeping the files out of your precinct." In other words, he could be assured she was the only cop with access to all the information he was looking at…and he wasn't her Guardian back then, so her ability to relax had not been a concern. But evidentlynow, it was.
The tablet would not work in her room, which she realized was less than 50 yards from this very office; a fact that could not be coincidental. She would work in the same office with Prowl going over the cases to narrow down the search for the Decepticon base. Convenient for the work, but equally convenient for keeping her close and under his gaze. She doubted she would be able to sneak any physical files to her room either.
She huffed, but ultimately decided to drop it for now. If having her literally under his nose made it easier on him while he adjusted to the new programming, then she would deal with it. Eventually he would adjust and things would slide back towards normal.
And who knew, maybe having an Autobot with a super advanced computer for a brain as an office-mate would speed along the investigation. He would be conveniently available to answer any questions she might have at a given moment.
She pulled up the digitized version of her map, brow scrunching when no new patterns leapt out at her. She really hoped those seismographs would come in soon…
"Prowl, do we have a roster for the Decepticons we know are on Earth?" It was a question she probably should have asked a long time ago. She knew of the handful she had had thepleasureof enduring, but was that it? Or did they know of others she had never seen?
"I would not presume to think we know of every Decepticon that has landed on this planet nor were we able to properly identify all who were offlined when we destroyed their base after rescuing you and the other humans. Why do you ask?" His typing paused, those too-bright blue optics turning to her.
Darcy tapped her lip in thought, kicking one leg to swing back and forth over the empty air below. "If we could get some kind of estimate on how many of them are here, we might be able to rule out some places for a potential base."
"As you saw with their base at Primus Peak, they can tunnel far enough to accommodate any number of them."
"Yes, but that was at high elevation on the interior of the mainland. Anywhere close to the coast is going to limit the kind of tunneling they can do. Natural quakes or their own digging could trigger a collapse that could bury them under ocean water." She was no geologist or anything, but she was fairly sure tunnels could flood even without a structural collapse if they were in the wrong place.
Prowl tilted his head, as if assessing the validity of her claim. He nodded once. "While we do not need to breathe air like you humans to survive, the increased risk of collapse should deter Starscream from such places."
Darcy paused in her musings, mimicking his stance. "You are assuming that Starscream is still in command and not Megatron?"
His chin dipped, doorwings flexing the smallest increment before relaxing again. Darcy was grateful she had never had to face this Megatron and she desperately hoped she would never have to. "Neither Starscream nor Megatron would seek out a base which threatens their or their troops' very lives. While we abandoned the Hoover Dam base as a precaution for Megatron's return, I do not believe the Decepticons currently possess the capability of reviving him. Until irrefutable evidence of his resurrection is found, I will continue to evaluate probabilities as though Starscream is in command."
Darcy nodded. After all, if Megatronwasbrought back, the Decepticons would no doubt make it known as quickly as possible. At the least, it would demoralize the Autobots.
"So, about that roster…"
"Progress: Report."
Knock Out shot a sardonic grin to the stoic mech on the other side of the table, annoyed at the interruption but wise enough to not show ittoomuch. "Oh he's fine, almost as good as new, barring, of course, the fragged mess that is his spark chamber."
Said fragged mess which was taking longer to repair than even he'd expected. It had been, after all, basicallymelted. All the other repairs to Megatron's frame had been simple enough to manage; they wouldn't have even been lethal on their own. But that little human had shoved theAllsparkto their leader's spark and the resulting power overload had melted a sizable hole through his chassis. Broken parts were easy to weld, melted was a whole other kind of mess.
"Status: Behind schedule." Soundwave intoned.
The red medic growled, "You are welcome to do it yourself if you think that will speed things along."
"Statement: Unnecessary. Knock Out: Chief Medical Officer."
"Then don't complain about how long it takes!" He wasbarelyqualified for this as it was. He was far better at taking mechsapartthan putting them back together. And the whole matter of the Allspark energystill radiatingfrom Megatron's body was a much larger issue. One wrong slip andhewould end up fried, just as his poor machinery that he'd first hooked up to Megatron's body was now a useless, melted pile of slag.
"Solution: Remove Allspark energy first." Soundwave stepped to the side to give Shockwave room to enter the medbay. The purple mech strode in with a silver cube in hand, a single cable dangling from one side.
Knock Out gave the cube a skeptical look. "You thinkthatwill be able to hold the excess power?"
Shockwave stared at him with that unnerving single optic. "We cannot accurately calculate the power still residing within Lord Megatron's frame. I calculate only a 27% probability of successfully removing enough power to restart his spark. However, there is a 73% chance this can remove and store a portion of the energy. Enough to aid in the repair process."
"Yeah, yeah, I don't need all the details." Knock Out waved his hand, abandoning his work to back away towards the door. Attempts to remove the Allspark energy could be explosive and he was not going to risk his paint jobagain."Just do it already."
Shockwave needed no additional prodding, attaching the other end of the cable directly to Megatron's melted spark chamber. Immediately, sparks flew across the cable, lighting up Shockwave's cube a brilliant blue. He watched some indicator on the cube without any outward reaction to the sparks arcing from the cables to his own frame. With a swift yank, he disconnected the cable from Megatron, his gaze never leaving the indicator.
"Allspark energy is more volatile than I expected. Detonation imminent. Dispose of this." Before Knock Out had the time to flee, the scientist had deposited the sparking, glowing cube in his hands.
The red medic sputtered, nearly dropping it before panic that the fall would cause it to explode faster made him catch it again. "Whyme?!"
Shockwave didn't even look up from the datapad in hand. "Your alternative mode is the faster. You have the highest probability of getting the cube away from the Nemesis and retreating to a safe distance before detonation….if you leave immediately."
A slew of Cybertronian curses flew from Knock Out as he dropped to his alt mode, tires squealing against the metal floor. He peeled out of the medbay and towards the exit of the ship as fast as he dared, thebombstrapped securely in his back seat. If he got out of this alive he was going to give that purple eyesore a piece of his mind! Okay, not really, the mech was kind of terrifying, but he would think about it! And he would curse him with every curse in every language he could think of during his mad dash out of the ship and into the landscape beyond. No humans were anywhere nearby. Or proper roads for the matter. Another thing for him to curse as he raced down shoddily blazed paths better suited for the likes of Breakdown than his sleek, low-slung frame.
Of course, Shockwave had failed to mention what the blast radius would beorhow much time he had to get it away from the Nemesis. Judging from the red tint taking over the blue glow and the increase in sparks, he didn't have long.
More curses flew as he was forced to squeeze between rocks without slowing, the unforgiving bolder scratching gouges into his paint. He'd just buffed that!
Frag this. His alarms were blaring a warning about the unstable power readings now. Transforming, he let the momentum of his speed carry him towards the edge of a deep ravine. Cube in hand, he hurled it as hard as he could. Not caring to risk his paint job more than it'd already been damaged, he dropped back into his sleek alt mode and tore off back the way he'd come.
The explosion ripped the air apart, blindingly bright and blisteringly hot. Had the road been pavement, Knock Out would have already been much further, but his tires slipped against the dirt and loose rock, slowing his retreat. The blast seared his rear end. His paint bubbled and sizzled, the dirt beneath his tires turning to glass. Internal alarms screamed that it was too hot, too much.
Just when he thought that this was it, the great Knock Out was going to bemeltedto death by one of Shockwave's failed experiments, the heat receded. In the rearview, the light faded as the flames burned themselves out.
Knock Out didn't slow until he was well away and only then did he chance looking back, and more importantly take stock of the damage tohimself.
Whatever power it had sucked from Megatron had better have made a difference. The explosion had decimated well…everything within a half mile radius. But worst of all, his paint wascompletelyslagged!
The curses continued to pour as he made it back to the Nemesis, his frame now more black than red, the armor along his rear bumper warped out of shape. This was going to take more than a good buffing to fix!
"Seventy-three percent? Seventy-three percent!" He howled upon making it back to the sanctuary that was his medbay. Soundwave had already left, leaving only the hulking purple mech running a scanner over Megatron's body. "You must have your wires crossed! Look at me!"
Shockwave did not, in fact, look at the damage done to him. "You survived, as I predicted you would."
"You also predicted your power storage wasn't going to go nuclear!" He winced as he looked at the armor on his legs, the metal bowing unnaturally and as black as Barricade's backside. Ugh. Hideous.
"Cease your complaining. I will make the necessary adjustments to the next version." The scanner was replaced by the data pad as still, the scientist refused to look at what his failed project had done to Knock Out's beautiful paint.
Failing to garner sympathy for his plight (and pain, though he was not going to admit it), the medic comm'd Breakdown to get his aft down here immediately, and plonked himself onto an empty berth. "Well at least tell me it was useful enough to reduce the power of the ticking time bomb that is Lord Megatron's corpse."
Shockwave stayed silent for several long moments, no doubt running calculations from the readouts of his scans. "Energy levels have been reduced 0.0001%. Reduction negligible. I will need to start again on the container."
Reduction negligible. It had all been fornothing. Hispaintscrapped fornothing!
Knock Out snarled lowly to himself, resolutely turning his back to the other Decepticon and starting on the process of prying the damaged armor off his leg. Breakdown would have to hammer it back into proper shape when he got there. The formerly red medic wasn't about totouchMegatron again untilhewas back in perfect condition.
True to his word, a human-sized desk had appeared in Prowl's office the next morning. As had the physical case files, a rack to store them on, and a much more comfortable office chair. Prowl had also added a whiteboard, which contained their roster of known planet-side Decepticons. Neither of them believed the fourteen names made up the complete list, but it was something. Darcy had also added their alternative modes, if they knew them.
Of all of them, she longed for the day she could wipe Barricade's from the list most.
Prowl had reported that he had gotten a few responses from the geologists who monitored the seismographs in the regions they requested, and now had a few on file. Darcy elected not to look at them just yet, not until they had them all in hand, lest she start seeing patterns where there were none.
Back in Idaho before she had known about Autobots or Decepticons, before she had been abducted, Prowl and Lennox had managed to work her into a more regular eating and resting schedule. Prowl brought that pattern back with newfound rigidity. Her code for the human-sized door to his office would not work unless she had stopped by the mess hall first thing in the morning, and any technology would spontaneously stop working right around lunch and again at the end of her 'workday'. Most of the time Prowl would personally escort her to the mess hall if he was not otherwise occupied by meetings, a fact that had garnered more than her fair share of attention from the soldiers who hadn't been at the other base.
Activity around the base remained high for the week following their arrival, so Darcy kept her exploring to a minimum, lest she get in the way or accidentally wander into an area above her paygrade (which was nothing, she'd realized one afternoon with a wince, though Prowl had only told her 'not to concern herself' over the bills she definitely hadn't been paying since her capture). The routine fell into place rather quickly: most of her day was spent in Prowl's office going over the files looking for anything she might have missed and slowly crossing out potential base sites based on what information they had, Sideswipe would try to take her for a joyride and Prowl would threaten him with anything from brig time to meeting attendance, and then she'd spend the evening before bed in the rec center with the other soldiers, ignoring whatever was on the many TVs in favor of running over whatever theories she'd come up with that day.
Of course, as had lately become a habit for the universe, the routine was not allowed to last very long.
Darcy stepped out into the midday sun from the comfort of the mess hall, unsurprised to find Prowl there, his hand lowered in invitation.
Shestillhated the feeling of leaving her stomach on the ground, but Prowl had been stuck in his alt mode so much on the mainland that guilt kept her from asking for an actualrideover a lift.
"Eat well, Detective?" He always asked the same thing after lunch if he was there to meet her and not once had the question sounded natural.
"Yes, ready to get back to work." And she would always reply the same. It was just his programming that made him ask and while it was-in a weird sort of way-kind of sweet to have someone care enough to check in on her, Darcy did not know how to respond to it.
A loud beep cut through the air, the only warning that the intercom was about to spit out some important information. "All personnel, Code Seven."
Prowl dropped her.
Before she could even begin to ask what a code seven was, a shriek ripped from her throat at suddenly entering freefall. As quickly as it started, it stopped and she found herself sitting in Prowl's passenger seat, one hand braced against the dash and the other his door. Her full stomach lurched uncomfortably as she swallowed down the memory of the only time she'd ever experience that before: with Barricade, when he abducted her.
"What the hell?"
But he was not paying attention to her, his tires squealing against the pavement and launching them towards the command center. He was not the only one suddenly spurred into action. Soldiers and Autobots alike converged on the main hangar where Optimus Prime and Ratchet were focused on the large screens set against one wall.
Prowl did not even come to a complete stop before Darcy found herself involuntarily rising away from the ground, back in his hand. He stepped up beside Optimus, his attention on the screens as well. Darcy thumped a fist against his hand in weak protest to the rapid transformations that had left her gut reeling. Prowl flashed her only the shortest look before depositing her on the raised walkway next to Major Lennox.
Not that that motion had left her any steadier, but at least there was solid,unmovingground beneath her feet. "What is going on? What's a code seven?"
"Incoming ship…from outside Earth's atmosphere." Epps supplied from behind her.
"What?" She supposed it was bound to happen eventually. These werealiensafter all. But it was almost easy to forget that they really came from another planet across space. Yet here was that reminder, and a reminder that their numbers on Earth were not limited to who was already planet-side, nor were their enemies'. "Autobot or Decepticon?"
"Unclear, its signal is encrypted." Ratchet groused, typing away at another modified keyboard that looked a lot like the one Prowl used. The tactician scowled at the screen over Ratchet's shoulder, recognition and shock soon flashing across his face.
"I know that encryption."
"Is that a…good thing?" Darcy asked as Ratchet stepped to the side to give Prowl access to the systems.
"If it is not a Decepticon trick, then yes, it would be a good thing."
The screen rolled lines of characters Darcy could decipher as well as she could hieroglyphs. Prowl's stance shifted, his doorwings relaxing. Whatever he was seeing, he was happy for.
"It is the Xantium."
If Sideswipe had toes, he would be bouncing on them, excitement making his eyes glow impossibly brighter. "The Wrecker ship?"
"The very same. Based on speed and trajectory, they will be landing here in 3.46 hours."
More Autobots, if Sideswipe's reaction was anything to go by, and they were on their way.
Notes:
A note on Diego Garcia: The actual length of the driveable island is closer to 36 miles. I made it a bit larger for the purpose of the story and to have it more reasonably sized for hosting the bulk of Autobot and NEST forces.
Chapter 25: Incoming
Notes:
Hey all! Still swimming upstream against this PhD. Fingers crossed only a year and a half left! But it is going to be a hell of a year and a half. Ugh. That said, sometimes I get dumb ideas for plot-less fluff one-shots for this fic. They tend to be holiday themed. I have one for Halloween ready, so that means I have a question for you all: would you rather see one-shots posted as I finish them even if they don't align with the timeline of the main fic? Or would you rather I wait and post them when the main fic reaches the general points of when they would have happened? Let me know!
Chapter Text
Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong. ~Mahatma Gandhi
“Can you make contact to confirm?” Lennox had both hands braced against the rail of the walkway, his attention flicking between Prowl and Optimus. The latter stayed silent, watching his tactician and medic tag-team the computers in their quest to find more concrete answers. "Or identify how many or who is onboard?”
“Negative,” Prowl answered after a beat, “there is no response to our request to identify.”
“Could it be Decepticons then?” Despite the potential disaster heading their way, Lennox looked entirely unruffled and in control. Of course, as the one in charge of the human element of NEST, it would do no one any good for him to panic. Still, Darcy was impressed by his composure.
“No way,” Sideswipe snorted, “the Wreckers would blow their ship to bits before letting ‘Cons get their hands on it.”
“Sideswipe is correct.” Prowl cast the bouncing frontliner a short look when he came too close to the tactician's back. The red Autobot rolled back minutely. “The more likely probability is that their communications relay has been damaged. They either cannot hear us or cannot respond.”
“What about your internal comms? Can’t you guys just…ring each other?” Darcy dared to ask. At least Jazz had said as such a while back and had suggested that the range for bot-to-bot communication was pretty significant in the right conditions.
“They are too far out and we may only do so if we know their frequency. It has been millennia since last I saw this ship or anyone who may be onboard.” Given no one else jumped up to volunteer a frequency, it had likely been just as long for everyone else. Darcy found it hard to wrap her mind around just how long that was and how old these Autobots were, and harder to imagine their war lasting for even longer. How far did their memory stretch? Could they recall an event two millennia ago as clearly as she could one from two years? Did they remember in painful detail just what life was like before the war? Or had it all been lost to some vague recollection?
“How do they know we’rehere? Aren’t your signals shielded?” Lennox broke in again, his fingers now tapping a beat against his own biceps, a frown pulling at his brow.
Ratchet shrugged loosely, “Wheeljack has been able to create a shield generator that keeps us hidden from Decepticon scanners, but he is no Blaster. There may be gaps, if one knew where to look. I do not believe there is any cause for alarm, Major. It is more difficult to block ship scanners from space than it is any earth-bound scanners.”
Millennia and space travel and shield generators, Darcy was as out of her depth as a goldfish in the ocean. This was so beyond anything she could even begin to comprehend. She had to question why she was evenhere. Oh sure, Prowl had claimed Guardianship to keep her under their protection until they could defeat the Decepticons, or at least Barricade, but what was shedoinghere? Not for the first time, she wondered if anything she did during ‘work hours’ was actually accomplishing anything beyond making up theories or ideas that Prowl had already discovered a week ago.
They all towered so tall above humanity and in three and a half hours, the Autobot numbers were going to swell.
It was a good thing. It was a great thing. They might now number greater than the Decepticons. They might be able tobeat themfor goodat their next meeting. When Prowl uncovered the Decepticon base, they could storm it and end the threat once and for all.
Besides, other than the few she saw more regularly, she barely came across the other Autobots. Other than hearing their names now and again, the newcomers were unlikely to ever cross her path unless they had business with Prowl. And it didn’t appear anyone voluntarily had business with Prowl. His office door stayed conspicuously less busy than that of Optimus next door.
Hell, with so many in their ranks, they’d probably stop the Decepticons, end the threat to humanity, and send her on her merry way back home before she ever even learned their names, let alone talked to any of them.
There was no need to worry. It was frankly silly to have any concern or nervousness about any of it.
Now if she could only convince her racing heart of that truth.
More Autobots filtered into the command center, the buzz of their excitement growing with the news. Lennox ordered the men around him to spread the word to their squadrons to take up ‘IC-Seven Stations’, whatever that meant. Darcy hazarded a guess that it was a personnel set-up specifically for incoming friendlies. Given how quickly non-critical personnel vanished from the command center, she assumed it was a set-up that kept a limited number of people around, likely for the sake of the newcomers who might not be accustomed to watching their step as much as those who had been on Earth for some time.
Prowl was arguing with Ratchet over the priority ranking of medical scans over addressing rules and regulations and thus paying her no attention. As neither critical personnel nor possessing a desire to be so, Darcy took the opportunity to descend the staircase and leave the command center with the last of the soldiers. The day was still young, there was still work to be done, so she elected to head back to the office rather than return to her apartment.
After all, it wasn’t hiding if she was working.
Not that she felt her work was accomplishing much of anything at this point.
They just needed moreintel! The seismographs could help when they came in, but even those might just eliminate some places instead of pointing to the one location they needed. There had to be something else, some other detail, some special trait that would make one area a better base location than another. She hoped whatever that detail was was somethingotherthan some underground trait like energon deposits. It wasn’t as if the geological survey hadthosemapped out.
A frown pinched her brow as she tapped her chin, staring at the map on the wall covered in a hundred pins that she could see even with her eyes closed. Whyhadn’tthe geological survey found energon deposits? Why hadn’tanyone? Surely if they were an energy source,someonewould have started testing how to use it, how to mine it; so why was it mentioned nowhere? Why had the chemical burns it had caused come up as an unknown chemical, when it existed right here on this planet? The stuff wasblue, it wasn’t like it would blend it with the rock around it. Even if humans could never figure out how to utilize it for their own power, surely some of it had been pushed to the surface somewhere! The discovery of the large crystals would be newsworthy across the country.
So why, until the Cybertronians arrived, were humans clueless about it? And was there any way they might have incidentally been mapping it without realizing?
Darcy pinched the bridge of her nose. She was adetective, not a geologist!
Still, the line of thought nagged at her. Dropping into her chair, she pulled up the web browser on the tablet. If someone had found energon crystals before, there was bound to besomethingonline, even if it was just a conspiracy theorists blog! Not that such digging was thrilling, but maybe, just maybe, it could answer a few of the questions that remained annoyingly elusive.
Perhaps she’d have Prowl do another inquiry, to the coroners and police departments of the nation this time. Maybe they’d seen similar burns before, at least.
She’d made no discernible progress by the time she felt the tremors in the floor heralding the incoming tactician. Blowing a strand of hair away from her face, she dropped the tablet and met Prowl’s sharp blue gaze.
“Detective, it is time we depart.”
Darcy blinked at him. Sure, the best place for her was probably safely out of sight in her room and not here in Prowl’s office, but surely he did not mean totake her with him?
Of course he did. As his charge, she had access to wherever he went. And apparently that included greeting long lost allies to the planet.
“I’m not critical personnel. I should stay out of the way.” A quick glance at the tablet showed a black screen and she inwardly cursed the remote control he had over the thing.
“On the contrary, your place is with me. Now come, the Xantium will be entering Earth’s atmosphere shortly.”
So much for her plan of staying away from the newcomers.
But no, this could be good. At the least, she would know who was here and she might learn who best to keep a distance from. One of them might even know something about the Decepticons that could help them find their base.
Releasing a sigh, Darcy abandoned the desk and the work to step up to Prowl’s side. He dropped smoothly into the Charger, door swinging open to invite her in. Well, at least he didn’t drop her into his alt mode this time.
They reached the other Autobots in their various alternative modes and rolled out into the afternoon sun. Two military hummers flanked Optimus, no doubt carrying the critical NEST personnel that had earned invitations to the welcoming party. The convoy turned towards the north end of the island, leaving behind the runway and the hangars for a stretch of empty pavement that was vanishing beneath the encroaching grasses and sands of the beach.
Thunder rolled overhead, growing into a roar that rattled Prowl’s frame. Darcy leaned forward, looking up to the sky as a shadow passed overhead. The ship blasted by, swinging wide out over the water before arcing back to reapproach the convoy. Optimus braked softly and stood, the afternoon sun setting his paint aflame. He looked intimidating on a normal day, but somehow he looked even more so the battle commander now.
A battle commander who paused and adjusted his step when a bird flushed from a thick patch of grass, squawking its anger at nearly being tread upon.
The soldiers piled out of the humvees, falling into formation behind Lennox who stepped up to the Prime’s side. Ironhide took his position beside and a half step behind his human charge.
Prowl shifted around her, the panels of his roof sliding back as the ground dropped away. Darcy let out an undignified squawk of protest, latching onto the hand that had replaced the seat beneath her as the tactician stood to his full height.
“Stopdoingthat!” she hissed. Her heart didn’t need any more reasons to race, damn it!
Prowl spared her only a short glance, taking his place on Optimus’ open side.
The rest of the Autobots filed in as the ship decelerated, slowly gliding in low over the water. Every second it grew in size, dwarfing what even her initial estimate had been. Just how many Autobots were on it?
Darcy wracked her knuckles on Prowl’s chassis, fighting a growing lump in her throat. “I should be with the other humans.”
Where she could blend in, where she wouldn’t be standing out as the only human literally in the grip of an Autobot.
“You are where you should be, Detective.” He cocked his head to look at her properly, probably barely resisting the urge to start a scan. “There is no cause for concern, our allies are no threat to you.”
He wouldn’t be putting her down.
She would be out in the open, on display for all these newcomers to see, with nowhere to hide.
Sometimes she really hated him.
And he was not helping her racing heart, which rather than slow, was now desperately trying to hammer its way out of her chest.
But the ship reached the shore, the wind and roar of its propulsors drowning any chance of continuing the conversation.
The ship was aspaceship, as in…space…the stars, planets. The ship itself had gone farther and seen more than she could even imagine. And it was massive, easily four times the size of the cargo jets the Autobots had ridden back to the island in. Black panels shifted on the belly, forming into landing struts that sunk into the sand.
The engines powered down, burning ozone wafting through the quieting air. Mechanical hissing, not unlike the sound of their transformations, heralded the opening of a door and appearance of a ramp. Static crackled against Darcy’s skin.
She shifted, wishing desperately she could be standing with the rest of the NEST soldiers. Why the hell was Prowl insisting she not only be by him but beheld upagainst his chassis? Why the hell was she even at this meeting? Only a handful of the soldiers had been picked to be part of the welcome party and she certainly did not qualify!
With the ship engines now silent, the effect of so many Autobots in one place was a cacophony of engine tones that created a low whine that buzzed in the air.
A figure appeared in the doorway of the ship, the first newcomer stepping out of the shadow of the ship and into the light of the ramp. He released a series of unintelligible clicks and whirls, one arm waving in a friendly greeting. His paint was a mix of dark green and yellow, though none of the paneling formed anything vaguely recognizable as a vehicle.
Bulkhead let out a thunderous laugh, responding in kind and ringing a fist against his own chest.
“Please, Springer, speak so that our allies may understand our words, and welcome, Autobots, to Earth.” Optimus swept a greeting hand out towards their surroundings as more Autobots descended the ramp. They varied in size, shape, and color as much as those already on the ground, though not one of them possessed noteable car parts in their armor. Or well, not recognizableEarthcar parts. No doors or side mirrors, and the tires a few of them sported were…different.
She’d never thought of it before, but now she wondered what their alien alt modes looked like. What had Prowl turned into, before he picked the guise of a Charger?
“Aye, Prime. We got your message. Woulda been here faster but we had a few hitchhikers to pluck up along the way.” The green leader gestured to the rest exiting the ship. Three others in blue, red, and green paint flanked him, the four looking like a force to be reckoned with given the armament visibly mounted to their arms. Springer clasped hands with Optimus, a wide grin stretching his faceplates as he shifted his attention to Lennox and the other soldiers. It didn’t take a robotics expert to read the surprise in his gaze. “These are the humans that snuffed ‘ole Megatron? But they’re so tiny!”
Darcy leaned back fruitlessly as the number of Autobots nearly doubled. Red and gold, green and silver, blue and white, hell, even a smaller Autobot in pink, joined the crowd on the ground. The air vibrated with excited energy and the warm greetings of old friends that hadn’t seen each other in a lifetime.
Lennox grinned, the picture of relaxed despite having to crane his neck to meet the gaze of the new Autobot. His comment was lost among the growing conversations, but Springer barked a long laugh to whatever it was, his body shaking with each guffaw. Darcy’s attention rolled through the gathering, snapping to the eccentric inventor as Wheeljack practically jumped at a red and black Autobot. “Percy!”
Darcy tried to follow the conversations and greetings that sprung with every new member who stepped from the ship. Large smiles, boisterous laughs, and more than a few loud clangs of metal hands slapping metal shoulders.
It was perhaps the happiest and most lively gathering of the Autobots she’d ever seen.
Except for Prowl.
His sharp gaze missed little as he watched the reunions, but the new Autobots made no effort to greet him, nor did he move to engage with any of them.
He could be stern, and pigheaded, and aggravating at times, but Darcy did not believe that made him deserving of such coldness. Even the short-tempered Ratchet was in the midst of an animated conversation with a red and yellow mech.
She parted her lips, unsure of what she could--or should--say when the last Autobot stepped out onto the ramp.
Unlike the colorful others, his armor was startlingly white, streaked with red and black accents. Prowl noticed him immediately, his engine dropping into a low growl. His grip on her tightened, his body twisting to move her further away while his opposing arm raised, the whine of a charging blaster electrifying the abruptly silent air.
“You have a Decepticon in your midst.” Prowl rumbled.
Darcy’s heart jumped into her throat. A Decepticon?! Ironhide’s cannons rolled to the ready, but stayed pointing harmlessly at the ground. The rest of the Autobots sharply turned their attention to the two opposing bots and stilled. No one moved. Darcy hardly dared to breathe.
What thefuckwas he doing?!
Was he seriously going to start a fightwhile still holding onto her?!
And had seven Autobots really allowed an enemy on their ship?
“Ex-Decepticon, if you please, Prowl.” His voice was steady and smooth, as if unconcerned. The white mech had paused halfway down the ramp, his position putting him above the other newcomers and thus giving a clear line of fire to the waiting Autobots. One hand moved up in surrender, the other tapping his chassis where a large red Autobot sigil stood out sharply against the white paint. He had no guns or cannons mounted to his body, only a pair of swords he didn’t touch.
“I find that hard to believe, Deadlock.” Prowl did not waver in his aim.
An ex-Decepticon? She’d never heard of anex-Decepticon. No one had ever mentioned it before, never spoke as if it were even a possibility, at least not that she had heard. Their war had gone on for millennia. Would anyone really be capable of change, change enough to switch sides, after so long?
Could anyone devote so much of their life to a cause only to turn their back on it?
Then again, perhaps the real question was: could a Decepticon pretend to switch sides well enough that seven Autobots would buy it?
Given what she’d seen, the answer was a resoundingno.
“It’s Drift now. Deadlock is dead.” Still the white mech made no move to draw a weapon or remove himself from the line of fire. His bright blue optics might have appeared relaxed, but he was watching Prowl carefully.
Nothing about his looks indicated he’d once sided with the enemy, but their looks was one thing they could change on a whim. Perhaps even optics color was an intentional choice.
“Changing your name and paint does not make you an Autobot.” Prowl growled, the blaster steady on its target.
“No, but fighting Decepticons alongside us does.” Springer cut in, stepping up to Prowl to cut off his line of sight to the other alien. He did not blink at the blaster now leveled at his head. “Drift has traveled and fought with us across the galaxy. He is an Autobot. He’s one of us.”
Darcy couldn’t see Prowl’s expression very well, but his doorwings remained pinned against his back, ready for combat.
“I have always believed that every being has the capacity for change, including a Decepticon. It brightens my spark to welcome you, Drift.” Optimus rumbled, his voice sapping the tension from the air as he strode towards the white mech who finally finished descending the ramp. The two mechs clasped hands, Ironhide’s cannons rolled back, and the others began to turn their attention back to each other.
Only Prowl remained strung tight, though his blaster powered down and fell away the moment Optimus moved into his line of fire. Darcy noted that shedidn’thear the sounds of a transformation that would indicate he put the blaster away.
She tried very hard to ignore the growing number of looks that were shifting to her. Prowl’s little display had put a glaring spotlight on her already too-noticeable position. Without the threat of a fight, the others took note of the little human the infamous tacticianstillwasn’t putting down.
The detective tried to swallow past a knot in her throat and could have thanked Optimus when he began speaking again, drawing everyone’s attention like moths to a flame. Prowl proved immune, however, his focus never leaving Drift. Darcy placed a hand against his chassis, hoping he might resist the urge to start a fight if she reminded him where she was.
He didn’t relax a fraction, but at least the snarling of his engine calmed to a threatening growl.
So many new faces, so many Autobots. Did they now match the Decepticon numbers? Was there a chance at beating them when they uncovered the enemy base? Could they launch a direct assault?
Darcy fought against her desire to gather information and the desire to stay apart from it all. She wasn’t with NEST, after all, she shouldn’t even behere.
But there were more here, with unknown skills, unknownknowledge. And Drift…he had once been a Decepticon; perhaps his insider knowledge might just be the leverage they needed.
If Prowl didn’t shoot him first.
The thought was in her head now, though, and not even Optimus’ welcoming speech to old friends and new could pull her from it.
Neither did Ratchet proclaiming medical evaluations taking immediate priority pull a word of protest from Prowl.
Darcy did noticethat, but this was not the place to prod into it.
With no small amount of relief on her part, the group of Autobots and humans turned away from the ship and began walking towards the center of base. While she would have preferred a quick drive, at least it meant they might soon be away from all of the newcomers. Guardian or not, there was no way Prowl could make her stay around for the debriefing and rules presentation for the newcomers.
The easy conversations started up again, new Autobots flanking old and swapping tales of battles fought and friends lost.
Yet she could still feel more than one gaze on her as Prowl walked a few paces behind Drift in silence. Of course because he refused to allow her to walk with Lennox and the other humans, he was quite clearly outing her as ‘different’ from the rest of NEST personnel. Not even Ironhide was toting Lennox around, though the two walked close together. Perhaps if it was anyone else, if it was Sideswipe or Jazz cradling her against their chassis, then the others would lose interest shortly. After all, they were sociable, friendly, Autobots. It would hardly surprise anyone for them to make human friends. But this was Prowl. Prickly, stern, logic-driven Prowl. If any among the newcomers didn’t know him personally, his reputation likely far preceded him.
And she was the human that he had claimed Guardianship over; a claim he’d never even made to any of his own kind before. Of course they were curious.
Now if only those gazesdidn’tmake her nerves itch.
Really, why couldn’t Prowl just leave her in his office for all of this?!
Then again, if she’d done that, then she would have missed that little confrontation with the former Decepticon and the idea sprouting in her mind would have been a seed left unplanted.
Darcy groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose to ward off the threatening headache. These damn aliens were setting her own mind against itself.
“Are you well, Detective?” Prowl asked, his gaze finally leaving the white mech to look her over.
“No,” she grumbled, belatedly realizing that the tactician was one to take that answer seriously. She waved a dismissive hand, but the blue light of his scanners had already started rolling over her. “I’m fine, just…tired.”
Tired of her thoughts spinning in circles. Tired of feeling small, insignificant, and so completely out of her depth. Tired of having her life not in her own hands. Tired of the mess that her life had become since she’d made that call to the FBI.
But it wasn’t Prowl’s fault, she knew that. She wasalivebecause of him. She stood a chance of staying alive for a bit longer because of what he did.
It was all the fault of the Decepticons, of the evil beings who sought to murder and enslave any they saw as lesser than them.
Which meant that any step needed to take them down was necessary, even if her own self preservation railed against it.
Prowl tipped his head slightly, but evidently finding nothing of note in the scan, dipped his chin in acceptance of her excuse. “I understand. You have been working many hours of late and today has had unexpected stressors.”
His gaze flashed back to Drift before returning to her. “The briefing of these new additions on proper Earth behavior will take many hours. You will return to rest now and not return to work until the day after tomorrow.”
Darcy dropped her jaw, a fruitless argument on her lips. But when Prowl wanted his way when it came to her work schedule, he usually got it. The tablet with her notes would not function unless he allowed it and the paper copies of the cases were all held securely in his office…of which he could change the access code to the door on a whim.
She blew out a breath instead. Maybe some time to herself would be good for her. While the nightmares were not as frequent as they used to be, they still existed, still wrecked her sleep. Shewastired.
Maybe a day to rejuvenate might spark new avenues to explore.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
It did not.
In fact, Darcy found very little rest or rejuvenation to be had in her ‘day off’.
With Prowl still busy initiating the new arrivals, Jazz off base, and self-preservation and better sense keeping her from Sideswipe, Darcy had found little and less to occupy her time. The only human she had any sort of connection to was Major Lennox, who was also still tied up in the welcome of the new Autobots. Though a few of the soldiers from the Hoover Dam base were still around, she wasn’t sure she was quite up for their idea of entertainment, so she abandoned the search for company. But the sandy shores and rhythmic waves did little to distract her mind and her fingers twitched with the urge to dosomething.
Her mind circled on the mystery of the energon crystals and if there was a way they had been accidentally mapped. Her thoughts refused to stray for long from the possibilities of the knowledge that the ex-Decepticon might possess. And her musings repeatedly returned to the patterns the seismographs might reveal.
If she could just have all three sources of information in front of her, sheknewshe could locate the Decepticon base.
But she had none.
One might still take time in coming and even then it would take more time to properly analyze for unusual patterns.
Another may not know anything helpful after all, or have buried his past so deep as to be unwilling to dig into it to help them.
And one could simply not exist.
After a single day, Darcy was quite certain she would go insane if she couldn’t getsomethingin front of her whose trail she could follow.
Prowl was nowhere to be found on the second day, but his office door responded to her code and the tablet lit at her touch.
Perhaps initiation took longer than she thought it would. Then again, thiswasProwl.
Stuck spinning her wheels, Darcy shoved the ideas aside and brought up the open missing persons cases where the person had vanished after her rescue. If she could rule out some potential victims, it might be easier to find actual victims.
Provided, of course, that Shockwave was still kidnapping people for his psychotic experiments.
Somehow, she didn’t believe humanity would be lucky enough for him to stop just because his original lab was destroyed.
The sun had well past disappeared below the horizon by the time Prowl finally returned. His optics zeroed in on her, narrowing. “Detective, it is well beyond the hour in which work should be halted in favor of rest.”
And he’d either been too distracted to remember or simply assumed she would stop on her own, as the tablet she’d been working on hadn’t automatically shut itself off at the usual time. A fact she had taken advantage of to keep digging into the reports. So many people went missing every day just in the US. While it was easy to sort out those that had been found alive, it was less simple sorting out those that had clear human causes from those that could be alien.
“The new Autobots settled in?” She asked instead to deflect his attention. Such tactics rarely worked, but perhaps this was a big enough thing to distract his mind from its usual need to enforce her quitting time.
A rush of air escaped his vents as he sat heavily at his own desk. “Yes. Per regulations, they will be slowly integrated into co-mingling with humans in the coming weeks and they are restricted to the base until they have obtained an Earth-based vehicle mode.”
The detective chewed her lip. It was late, he was clearly tired--despite getting into his own work rather than taking his own advice to rest--and it would just be better to wait until tomorrow to broach the subject.
“Out with it, Detective,” Prowl rumbled without a pause in his typing.
Darcy blinked at him, certain she hadn’t said a word. “Out with what?”
“Whatever it is that you are wanting to say but are attempting to refrain from.”
She blinked at him again. How in the hell?
“I was just wondering if…” Even if they did not have circadian rhythms on 24 hour cycles like humans, they still needed regular rest. He’d been going for at least three days. Regardless of what further explanations might have been said in the meetings, she doubted he trusted Drift any more than he had when he arrived planet-side.
And Prowl’s willingness to listen to reason not his own did not improve the longer he went without a recharge.
“...If we might be able to acquire death records and hospital visits involving chemical burns that could have been caused by energon exposure,” she finished instead. “We’ve been focusing on people that haven’t been recovered, but maybe some have been found or escaped.”
Perhaps it was wishful thinking to believe anyone could escape Decepticon clutches. After all, she’d tried it first hand and seen what it resulted in. The only escape was death or Autobot rescue. And the latter wouldn’t come for whoever was in Decepticon hands now until they found their base.
Prowl regarded her for a moment, as if he suspected that hadn’t been her original thought. “I have tapped into your national healthcare databases and have been scanning for suspicious injuries. There is nothing of note thus far.”
Damn.
“What about energon crystals themselves, is there any way humans have incidentally mapped their locations? And how have they avoided discovery for this long?” She spun to face him properly, frowning at the lower slant of his doorwings.
“Those are questions better suited for a scientist than myself.” Wow. So apparently therewerelimits to their knowledge. Oh sure they had their specialties, but maybe every answerwasn’ta quick turn of their advanced processors away.
Maybe it would have been obvious to anyone else, but to haveProwladmitting that something was outside of his wheelhouse was…humanizing.
“Like Wheeljack?” He was the only true scientist she knew of that was around.
Prowl gave her a flat stare. “If we have a need to make an object explode, only then would I advise Wheeljack’s council. No, I am referring to Perceptor, who follows proper scientific procedures and arrived on this planet with the Xantium. When he is properly integrated to Earth protocols, it may be beneficial to approach him with these questions.”
Well…
If he was going to bring up using the knowledge one of the new Autobots possessed…
“And what about Drift?”
The tactician went still, his optics boring into her.
“What about Drift?” A low growl tinged his sharp words. Oh yes, he definitely did not trust the ex-Decepticon nor liked that he was allowed to remain on base. If she were smart, she would table the question for another day. If she were cunning, she might make subtle references over the coming days and weeks to how convenient it would be if only they had a Decepticon to question.
But Darcy was not patient.
“Well, he was a Decepticon once, right? He could have inside knowledge that could help us find their base.” Prowl did not move, did not twitch a single panel. “And we could have limited time. Once he’s settled they might station him at a different base. It couldn’t hurt and it’s not like we’re making any progress…”
She chewed her bottom lip again, waiting for him to answer, to move, to dosomething.
Prowl turned slowly back to his computer, his fingers moving across the keys. His frame remained eerily stiff and still. “He is just as likely to give us false information.”
That would only be true if he was a double agent, if he really had fooled everyone. “You really don’t believe he’s switched sides?”
Not that Darcy could blame him for doubting. From what she had seen of the Decepticons, most of them reveled in the pain they caused, enjoyed the terror they instilled and the murder they could dole out on a whim. But she hadn’t known Deadlock. Had never heard of him. Maybe he hadn’t been as bad as the others?
“Optimus may believe a Decepticon capable of change, but I do not.”
“People can change.” She didn’t really know why she was defending the ex-Con. It wasn’t as if her line of work allowed her to meet many people that truly felt remorse over their crimes. Maybe it was a fool's hope that he could and would help them.
“Not as much as some would like to believe.” Prowl regarded her carefully, the tension in his frame easing slightly. “You are not to approach Drift nor speak with him.”
Darcy huffed, having not previously planned on attempting to do so anyway. Her entire goal was tonotget too involved with the newcomers, least of all a maybe-hopefully-truly-ex-Decepticon. Not if it could be avoided. Saying she shouldn’t approach him was like saying she shouldn’t ask Sunstreaker for a ride. But to command like that? And to make it clear he would not be following the avenue of potential information himself? “You cannot be serious.”
Even if Drifthadn’tchanged, he was surrounded by Autobots. Doing anything to her, to any human, would immediately make him a target of the other Autobots and NEST, and ruin whatever reason he had for infiltrating their base.
Really, either he was an Autobot and would use his knowledge to help them locate the base, or he would try to lead them away from it, and thus give away where it was most likely to be.
There could be little harm in asking.
“I am entirely serious, Detective. Though you may take my orders at times as only suggestions, this is not one of those cases. You willnotgo near him.”
Darcy threw up her hands. “You could be blowing a lead here, Prowl! Either way he could have information andyoudon’t exactly inspire cooperation when you’re being pigheaded!”
Not that she wanted to volunteer herself for this, but if Prowl couldn’t--or wouldn’t--play nice, then she just might be the only choice they had.
“I will say no more on this matter.”
“Ugh!” Darcy threw up her hands, abandoning the tablet and her desk to march out of the office. It was too late for this nonsense. Prowl shifted as if he might follow.
“Where are you going?”
“To bed. I need some sleep.” She should have gone with her gut and waited to bring it up. Maybe this conversation would have gone over better if they both had clear heads. Maybe it still could. Blowing out a breath, she paused in the doorway to look back. The tactician was still watching her, his typing paused. “You need it too. Get a recharge, Prowl.”
Whether or not he listened, she didn’t know.
But she doubted it.
He wasn’t any more receptive to the idea of consulting Drift the next day.
Nor the day after that.
Not even after a snarling warning from Ratchet had gotten him to spend a night in recharge.
Even going for subtlety got her…well…nowhere.
“The seismographs have arrived.” Prowl’s announcement had Darcy jerking her head up from the file in front of her where the words had all begun to blur together.
“What?” It took a moment for her brain to snap away from the line she’d already read twice to what he’d actually said.
He tipped his head, looking at something as it flashed across his oversized screen. “Not all of them, yet, but enough to begin analyzing patterns of activity.”
Well, it was something. They finally had the seismographs or at least somewhere to start with them. Of course, it could all still be a dead end based on a bad hunch, but it was something.
Not that she knew how to identify what would be a normal or abnormal pattern in earthquake activity.
“Anything obvious?” A question she already knew the answer to. Anything that would be a blatant sign of Decepticon activity would probably have been news-worthy. And Prowl monitored a concerning number of news stations, police scanners, and government agencies. If there was something obvious, he wouldn’t have needed a seismograph for it.
“It will take time to analyze the records that precede Cybertronian arrival to this planet to determine baseline activity patterns.” Which he appeared to already be coding into his computer. To his credit, he did not give her the blank stare he often directed towards others who asked ridiculous questions of him
Or maybe he was just used to it coming from her.
Still, she heaved a sigh, bracing her elbow on the desk and propping her chin in her hand. They had new data in hand, but it was still going to taketime.
Darcy wasn’t unaccustomed to waiting. It had taken this long to even get the seismograph records. It could take months to get back results on fingerprints or DNA. Real investigative work didn’t happen in days like it did on TV. It took months, years even. So no, the long wait was not something new to her, but that didn’t mean she hated it any less. Every day that went by was another day that their war continued, that people were at risk from being subjected to Decepticon experiments and death.
But at this point, barring any new leads popping up, there was little else to do.
And there were no new leads popping up that Prowl was willing to take.
They both scoured the web for any sign of Energon deposits being found or reported by people, both confirmed and conspiracy blogs. But even the conspiracy pages that had at first appeared promising turned up nothing. Meteors and oversized hunks of quartz and signs of aliens visiting the planet, but thus far humanity seemed…wellincapableof finding raw energon crystals.
Weird and weirder.
“So we’re still in square one,” she huffed to herself, tapping her nails in a senseless pattern against her lips.
She was running out of avenues to pursue while they waited.
Sure, Prowl kept a stream of potentially linked cases coming in, but unless there was a body, there was no way to prove someonewasn’tlinked. And the numbers and patterns of people vanishing across the country were--though disturbingly high--not outside the realm of ‘normal’.
“We are far from square one,” Prowl corrected her easily without looking away from his screen. “We are pursuing multiple leads, but the pursuit takes time to approach them properly.”
Didn’t make the wait any less aggravating.
And the new Autobots--namely Perceptor--were still ‘off limits’ as they settled into Earth and its rules. Darcy had no idea how long that would take and Prowl had, oddly enough, presented only a vague response of ‘it depends on the Autobot’ when she tried pushing.
They had to wait on the seismographs to be properly analyzed.
They had to wait for Perceptor to get settled before he could start helping look into how humanity hadn’t discovered the energon yet.
And as for the last lead….
“We’re still stuck waiting. We could make this time more useful if we justtalked…”
“Detective,” Prowl growled, cutting her off.
…he wasn’t taking that bait.
And his responses were getting sharper each time she brought it up.
But Darcy was reaching her wit’s end on the whole thing. Sure, cases took time to solve, lab results and notes for the coroner or requisitions for traffic camera footage never came in immediately, but there was always somethingelseto do in the meantime. There were always witnesses or family to interview, scenes to investigate first-hand.
“We’re blowing an opportunity, Prowl!” She smacked both her palms on her desk, turning to face him. “And it’s not like we’re just going to throw out all our other leads based on what he says! It’s just an interview, just to see what he’ll say. Hell, when we do find their base, whatever he said could be used to prove he’s actually with or against us!”
She leaned back in her chair with a huff, crossing her arms. “It’s not like you have to be the one to talk to him.”
Not that she was super keen on being alone with any of the new Autobtos who may be more likely to misstep, but frankly the feeling of uselessness was starting to itch under her skin. She couldn’t deny the thought of solo interviewing a near twenty foot ex-murder robot alien made her heart race, but she had to dosomething.
“Youwill not approach him. I made myself very clear on that already, Detective.” Prowl stopped all movement to pin her with a hard stare. Oh yeah, if he were human she knew his blood pressure would be up.
“After that warm welcome you gave him, he might not be too eager to share anything with you hovering.” She had no idea how the following few days of Earth briefing went, but she really doubted the tension had been any better, given that Prowl’s opinion of the mech did not appear to have improved any. Nor had the days of quiet since then have any effect. “I can ask Sideswipe to chaperone if you’re that concerned about me being alone with him.”
Not that Sideswipe wasn’t extremely dangerous to her himself, but generally that danger was an entirely different type when it came to the over-eager red mech. Risking getting mixed up in a prank war or a joy ride would be worth it though, if Drift had anything to offer.
Prowl’s left optic appeared to twitch slightly, but that could have been the faulty lighting in the ceiling. “You will not change my decision.”
She wondered if strangling his holo would accomplish anything.
Maybe she’d at least feel a little better.
“Comeon, Prowl! What harm couldoneinterview do?”
“I will not list my reasons, but you will respect them.” He turned back towards his work, dismissing her and the conversation. Her tablet shut off without a touch from her. “It is late, you should rest.”
“Ugh!” She threw up her hands in defeat and marched out. He could be so exasperating! And infuriating! And pig-headed and stubborn andwhy couldn’t he just listen to her?!
On many things he took her input, but on this he refused to budge even an atom.
And she couldn’t understandwhy.
Defectors happened. They did. Even if none of the Decepticons she’d met had made it seem possible, ithadto be. Humans did it. And the other Autobots believed it. Even the newcomers vouched that he’d fought with them against Decepticons.
She swore colorfully, mumbling a fair number of her frustrations under her breath as she stalked outside. Right now she didn’t need sleep, she neededair, she needed to clear her head.
Darcy huffed, leaving the hanger behind for the warm night air that was more smothering than refreshing. Not even the nights here could be cool. Every aspect of this island was designed in opposite to home, to remind her at every turn that this wasn’t where she belonged.
Rough cheers from soldiers across the dark airstrip echoed across the pavement. Glow-in-the-dark tape shoddily wrapped around a hoop and a basketball answered the gist of what they were playing, though she could not make out if there were full teams or just one-on-one behind a crowd of spectators.
She left them behind, only to find their cheers and heckles drowned by upbeat music and bad karaoke pouring from the barracks.
None of it was unusual for nights on this island. If a soldier wasn’t on duty and didn’t leave base for the lights of town, they were here with their dancing and karaoke parties, or playing some after-dark version of a game: basketball, football, soccer, even water frisbee.
But she didn’t join them.
Instead she left the lights and the blacktop and sounds of merriment behind for the quiet solitude of the beach. The stars stood out like so many diamonds in the moonless sky. Not as many as that night she drove out onto the salt flats of Nevada, no, the lights from the base behind her bled out the dimmer ones, but still a sight to marvel at. And the farther she walked, the farther she stepped away from the nightly bustle and into the dark, the more that appeared, twinkling above the waves. And the farther she walked, the more her mind settled.
Soon, all she could hear was the water lapping at the shore. It was as good a place as any to think, though she rarely found useful answers. This was hardly the first time they’d argued about it, it wouldn’t be the last.
And she couldn’t understand why.
That was a lie.
She could.
And maybe her own desperation for this entire nightmare to end was why she wasn’t in solid agreement with him. Maybe it was just her desire for snow-capped mountains and cold air andhomethat made her blind to everything else.
Butstill…
Her boots sunk into the sand and she wondered if perhaps John strode a similar beach, enjoying his retirement and putting everything alien behind him. Gods she missed him. He would have fit in well here, with the soldiers and the Autobots. He couldn’t go anywhere without making friends. And he’d been a brilliant detective. He probably would have had this all figured out by now.
Her mind wandered to others she’d left behind, unable to ignore the pang of guilt for not thinking of them more often. She’d never been great at keeping in touch with people, the job always came first. While most of them understood in their own way….well, she doubted anyone outside of the precinct realized she’d vanished.
And yet she was also a little glad for it. They were all safer being clueless and without an obvious connection with her, and they could all go on enjoying their lives without worry for her or the war they didn’t even know was happening around them.
Darcy scowled, kicking at a clump of sand and forcibly ripping her mind away from that train of thought. Dwelling on people she might never see again wasn’t going to help anyone, least of all herself. She needed to focus on finding the Deception base. If she could find it, then she could keep everyone safe.
If only she could find it.
If only she were smart enough to find the one piece of information they were missing.
If only Prowl wasn’t so damn against a single conversation.
If only…
She heard him before she saw him.
The soft hydraulic hiss of a mechanical being moving dragged her eyes from the waves to the dark shadow in front of her. She hadn’t even realized an Autobot was on the beach, they rarely were. Something about sand getting everywhere. Yet here one was sitting on the shore, legs outstretched to the waterline, watching the bioluminescent plankton dash to and fro under the surface. His outline was too hidden by the night sky to make out clearly, but there was only one Autobot whose mere presence rippled in the air around him.
Optimus Prime was alone on the beach on a moonless night.
Darcy halted and carefully backpedaled, not wanting to disturb the commander.
“Ms. Blake.” His voice rolled like quiet thunder through the night, freezing her in her tracks.
His blue optics turned to her and she wilted under the full force of his gaze. There really shouldn’t be anything different about his eyes to Prowl’s. It was metal and lights all in the same shade of blue. Yet when Darcy forced herself to hold his gaze, she realized they couldn’t be more different. Prowl was stiff and stern and heavy, like a weighted blanket. But Optimus’ gaze, despite the force of his presence, was gentle, like a soft breeze before a storm. A quiet strength, that belayed against his massive frame.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.” She started to backtrack again, pausing as Optimus tilted his head slightly as he regarded her.
“You did not. Will you join me?”
Darcy froze at the request. He…wanted her to stay? To talk with him, one on one? She wanted to bolt. Of all the mechs, he still intimidated her the most, even more than Ironhide or Sunstreaker. His sheer size and sense of presence were overwhelming.
But in their few interactions, he had by far shown the most restraint and calm, had been nothing but understanding and kind. And every Autobot, even Prowl, loved and respected him enough to follow him across galaxies and millennia of war.
And after countless battles, still he was here with a hope for every Decepticon to turn from their evil ways, and with the grace to accept them when they did.
Clenching her trembling hands, she took several steps forward, until she was close enough to make out the faint lines of his flame paint. Her body wanted to make a run for it, but she forced herself to sit, to lock her gaze on the ocean and focus on calming her breathing and erratic heart.
And he didn’t say a word.
He just turned his attention back to the horizon and sat in silence.
And Darcy sat with him.
She had come out here to avoid company, to get away from everyone and sort her thoughts in solitude. But as much as he intimidated her, she still felt her previous ire slipping away. Optimus did not press for conversation and after a time his very presence overwhelmed her senses less.
“It can be easy,” he rumbled quietly after a time she hadn’t bothered to track, “to lose ourselves in the darkness we fight against and to forget the good that still surrounds us.”
She couldn’t be sure if he was talking about her or explaining why he was on the beach by himself in the middle of the night.
“I’m sure most would argue that we aren’t completely surrounded by good things here,” she mused back, flicking a little red crab that had been about to pinch her finger away from her. Even Prowl complained about the darn things, who so often loved to crawl where they shouldn’t.
The large mech hummed with amusement, slowly reaching near her to pick the crustacean up. Turning his hand, the little critter scuttled to the center of his large palm and froze, clicking its claws in uncertainty. It was so tiny in his grip that only the light from his optics made it possible for Darcy to make out against the complex overlap of metal and gears. It was as amazing as it was baffling that a being of that size, made of metal, could lift and hold such a tiny thing without harming it.
Most--including the humans--never bothered to show much concern over the innumerable crabs. They were little more than an occasional nuisance.
“And yet we live in a world where they are allowed to exist, where creatures not of great size nor great strength can still thrive.” He lowered his hand, patiently waiting for the crab to leave on its own. “We need only find understanding, to find the good in all.”
She chewed her lip, debating if it was even her place to ask, but the longer she sat with him, the bolder she felt. “Is that why you let Drift stay?”
He looked at her fully, but she felt no heat in his gaze. “Yes. The Decepticons have lost their way. They gave into the darkness and became the very things they had been fighting against. But being lost does not make one a lost cause. Drift had fallen very far in his time as Deadlock, but he has found his way back. I will not turn away any who try to come home.”
Again, she wondered just how bad Deadlock had been. Could he really have been so evil, if he’d turned to the Autobots? She didn’t believe the likes of those she had been under the care of were capable of change. How could any of them have a speck of goodness anywhere in their towering bodies? They were evil, through and through.
And yet, Optimus would welcome any one of them, who swore he had changed sides.
“Even Megatron?” She dared ask. After all, he was the one who started all of this right? He was the arch enemy, the destroyer of worlds. If any could be unforgivable, would it not be him?
Optimus turned his gaze back to the rolling waves, but Darcy caught a flash of what looked like an old pain. “Even Megatron had the capacity for change, even if he himself did not believe it.”
“What if you’re wrong?” How could someone like Shockwave or Starscream orBarricadechange? How could anyone claim there was a modicum of good worth saving in any of them? And how could Optimus be so sure that the Decepticons wouldn’t send a double agent to trick him, if they knew he always welcomed defectors?
It was a lot to take on faith.
“We cannot show them a better way if we do not follow that path ourselves. If we approach them with suspicion and anger, we will only serve to give them conviction of their chosen path. But if we greet a false defector as a lost brother returned to us, we might turn their defection true.”
Darcy didn’t understand it.
She didn’t understand how it was possible, howhewas possible.
Humans who never saw a battlefield held less hope and love for their fellow beings than this mech. Millennia of war, his own planet destroyed, countless lives lost, and still he held out hope for his enemies.
Now it made sense why Prowl was his Second. Prowl could be the cold logic and hard facts, could establish the precautions and safe guards for integrating a former enemy into their ranks. But if an ex-Con was greeted by Prowl, there probably wouldn’t be any ex-Cons. Optimus was the heart, was the soul, of the Autobots.
And she could understand why Cybertronians and humans alike were willing to fight by his side.
“I don’t know how you do it,” she admitted, propping up a knee to rest her arm on. “I don’t know how you can still have hope, after all this time, after what they did…”
If she closed her eyes, she could still hear those screams as if they were bouncing off of the rock around her, as if she was still there, with the mad laughter of the psychotic Wild Rider and the cold indifference of Shockwave.
She scratched where Knock Out had injected the chip into her arm, the mark healed in all but her mind.
“I will not say it is easy. Often we must search for it and it may seem dim and far away.” He gestured to the sky above them, to the stars bright enough to see but not to see by. “But I have faith in my people. The Decepticon rebellion began as the wrong approach to an honorable cause. Many may still remember that.”
“Many won’t.”
“Many won’t,” he agreed, “But I will hope for them regardless.”
They lapsed back into silence, but Darcy could say it was the most comfortable she’d felt in the commander’s presence since meeting him. And despite a hundred other thoughts prodding to be asked, she stayed quiet and felt her mind begin to settle, until a yawn threatened to crack her jaw.
Optimus shifted, regaining his feet. Cripes, he was tall. “I must return. Do you need assistance back to your room?”
He offered his hand and Darcy considered it for less than half a second. “No, thank you. The walk will do me good.”
That and, frankly, she really did hate heights.Getting a lift from Prowl was high enough, thank you very much.
“Very well.” He took half a step away from her before standing to his full height. “Goodnight, Ms. Blake.”
The earth rumbled with every step well after his silhouette vanished into the dark. Darcy watched him until another yawn split her lips, pushing her into starting the walk back herself. Tomorrow would come quickly and her resolve to talk to Drift had only been strengthened.
Her boot hit the pavement as a cargo jet roared overhead, swinging out wide over the water to adjust course to better align with the runway. Supply planes could come at any time, but they generally liked to stick to daytime landings. Night landings tended more towards practice flights and personnel returning from across the globe. Such a big plane could only mean one thing: there was an Autobot on board.
Which meant Jazz was back.
Finally.