literature

Lyric chapt 11

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After her conversation with Bluestreak, Jessica had kept things even more to herself, not out of spite of anger, but because there was just so much going on in her mind, and she was trying to figure everything out.

Other mechs had come by to present themselves and give their welcome backs, but she had hardly registered any of it.

Jazz seemed to have finally taken the hint that she needed her time and space and let her be, not pushing as many conversation attempts. Either Bluestreak had hinted him or he had figured it out by himself.

How was she to accept this? She knew better...she understood the situation, at least she thought she did.

But accepting it was just so out of her reach.

She sighed for the millionth time, perched on Jazz's knee, elbows over her knees and head resting on top of them.

The mech behind her was quietly reading something, bobbing his head slightly at no doubt some sort of music he was listening inside that helm of his.

Prowl had not changed his behavior at all, staying reserved to himself, leaving her alone as long as she needed. He wouldn't even attempt to spy a few looks at her, his focus had been entirely on the thousands of datapads they brought him daily, keeping him occupied.

She sighed again, her mind going back to her current problem. Idly she looked back down to the sketchbook tucked in between her legs and her chest, a whole bunch of nonsense scribbles and curves all over the page, her thoughts were too puzzled for her to draw anything decent, but her hand had that distinct need to just register something on the paper, so that was what she had done.

Decision wise, she knew she was no where near making one. In fact, if anything, she was even more at a loss than she had been at the beginning. Bluestreak's revelation of her supposed to be REAL parents's feelings only made things harder to understand.

She knew she had to have a serious conversation with them, but neither did she know how to start one, or when to start one.

It just felt wrong to do so right now, there were too many things she still had to think about, she had to know where she stood, what she wanted to do with herself.

She needed to talk to someone, someone not cybertronian, not from the army, someone she could trust.

And she knew who she wanted to talk to, but she was too afraid of suggesting it, these guys wanted seclusion after all, and she wasn't sure just how far that meant for her... but god damn it, all she needed was a few hours on the internet.

She sighed dejectedly, looking across the now memorized medbay, boredom was slowly grating at her nerves.

Jazz had finally stopped listening to his music, his visored face looking up from his datapad at the small human look alike on his knee.

He wanted to reach out, to try and comfort her pitiful form, but he restrained himself.

Prowl wasn't the only one that kept telling him to give her her space, the others had pointed it out as well in private, and it was finally sinking in. Still it didn't help all the hurt he had to hide by doing so. His only comfort being Prowl's presence next to him, suffering as much as he was.

Said Praxian had not looked up, but his doorwings had twitched minutely, signaling his attention to the girl's misery. So far Lyric didn't seem to be able to read these things, small cybertronian indications of feelings or reactions, mostly the subtle ones.

She couldn't at all read doorwing language, even Bluestreak's who was more obvious about it. Only when it was an extreme reaction could she faintly understand it.

She also didn't seem to realize that the increase or decrease of one's optic light meant things as well, especially Jazz's visor since he didn't have the regular optic shape showing.

To top it off, so far they had been lucky. They were trying to compensate their absence in the command deck during recovery by having a great number of their work brought there, they had to discuss tactics, approaches, human alliances, review every single thing, make sure everything was taken care of before dispatching the reports to Prime.

They kept their discussions to their bond, not wanting to add the extra stress to the girl.

The decepticons had been quiet, they were preparing, you could almost taste the coming battle.

They now knew, and they would try an make a full scale attack to try and steal Lyric away from them.

The thing was that, since femmes had much more fertile sparks, the chance of getting a sparkling out of them was almost certain, and they could endure births a whole lot more than mechs. Which made for a very resourceful way of acquiring soldiers.

The mere thought of such fate gave them both chills up their spinal struts and their sparks burning in outrage.

They had to focus on getting everything ready, they had to prepare, they had to defend their base.

Worst of all, they had to prepare Lyric, they really needed to talk, but they didn't know how to start a conversation with her when she clearly needed her space and time.

Interrupting all three of their inner conflicts, Ratchet came out of his office, reading a datapad as he made his way over to them and grumbling something to himself.
As he approached he moved around Prowl's berth.

"I need to check your readings" he said, automatically reaching the terminal's cables and taking Prowl's offered arm, opening the side panel and plugging him to the scanner, Prowl's vitals and status displayed on the screen. Ratchet gave a satisfied grunt then moved to do the same to Jazz, Lyric watched intently his every move, and would look at the terminal's display cluelessly.

"You're good to go" he finally said, snapping Jazz's arm panel closed without much finesse. "both of you. You're back to full health."

A certain dread filled Jessica at that, looking a little weary and uncertain at what that meant.

"Finally" Jazz said, flashing a grin of triumph. "was getting' sore from lyin'ere all the time" he said, stretching his arms as he sat up, Jessica having to grab onto his knee cap to secure herself with his movement, he reached over cupping her with his hands.

"But, I don't want you going to your offices today" Ratchet grouched, pointing an accusing finger at prowl as he gathered the datapads they had to work on. "You're off duty for the rest of the day unless something urgent comes up."

"Will do Ratch'" Jazz said cheerfully, standing next to Prowl as they were ready to leave.

"Thank you Ratchet, we will see you later."

Ratchet harrumphed at that "Bring Lyric back tomorrow, I still have a few more scans to run." they nodded at this and turned to leave out the doors.
Jessica remained silent, looking around herself uncertainly as they progressed.

"It'll be good ta go back home at last" Jazz broke their silence, unable to take it. Their feet, despite their large size, padded lightly on the floor, not making that much sound at all.

"It will indeed" Prowl agreed, a small smile tugging at his usually expressionless faceplate. "Jessica, Jazz has not taken you to our quarters yet has he?"

The girl jumped a little at being referred to, looking up at him wearily.

"N-no, not really. I mean Bluestreak showed me the hall to it...but that is about it."

"Didn't feel right showin' it to ya while Prowler couldn't come." Jazz explained, lightly brushing the other's side with his hip.

"Hmm.." Prowl hummed in agreement. "Lets hope that Smokescreen managed to get the things I asked in time." he said

She didn't comment on that, there wasn't even a point in wondering about it, she'd know when they got there.

They stopped by a door, as regular as any other, entering a code that she made an effort to silently memorize and stepping into a darkened room. It only took a few seconds for lights to slowly light the room in a soft yellowish warm light.

It was pretty spacious, for a base's quarters that is, but then again she'd learned that the two were the second and third most important robots in that base, so it made a little sense that they'd have some privileges, plus this was probably two rooms put together.

It had its own furniture, making a small little living space with a couch, the biggest tv set she had ever seen and a fully integrated with equally large stereo system, separate from the obvious large berth for the two of them.

There was also a desk at one corner and a private dispenser at the other side. At the end there was another door she reasoned that it was probably a closet or something of the like. Maybe a bathroom, she frowned to herself, did robots even need bathrooms?

"Here we go, home sweet home" Jazz pronounced, sounding a little nervous, waiting for a reaction.

Realizing they were waiting for her to say something, she straightened her back, looking away. "Its all right."

their frames relaxed at that, as they stepped in more calmly.

For a moment it looked like they didn't quite know what to do with her, hesitating on where to put her down at, or if they should do so.

"Can I get down? Its been a while since I was allowed to walk on my own" she said, trying to keep her voice even.

"Righ' sorry." Jazz said, leaning down and letting her hop onto the floor.

"You are free to roam around and use the living area, but I'm afraid we will have to work for a while more today" Prowl said in a non too strict manner, yet still distant.

Jazz gave a sigh at that, he couldn't disagree, he knew they did have to work, and he knew how important it was.
"That's fine with me." the girl said in the same tone, moving off to the couch, looking around for a moment before cleverly finding a way to climb up onto it using the small table in front. She sat down, looking incredibly tiny in such a large furniture and took out her sketchbook and materials, immersing herself in her work.

The two reluctantly returned to their work, Prowl taking the desk and their many, many reports, while Jazz took a second, more comfortable looking chair, resting his pedes up on the desk corner and picking a datapad of his own.

They spent the day in silence, only occasionally would Prowl and Jazz exchange words when one was done with a report or another.

Jessica spent her time equally quiet, focusing completely in her art, it was the only thing keeping her from the thoughts that had been plaguing her since she got there. It was her only comfort.

Suddenly, the dread alarm rang, a red light by the door flashing as it blared inside and outside of the room. Both mechs were instantly on their feet.

Jessica covered her ears, letting her sketchbook fall to the side and looked at the siren fearfully.
Please let it be the fire alarm she thought.
Prowl and Jazz were quickly on the move, taking out their weapons and readying themselves, heading for the door. Once there however they hesitated, stopping to look back.

"Stay here, do not dare to step outside of this room, we'll be back after a while" Prowl said with the firmest tone she had heard from him, his door wings were completely stiff, tense. "If anyone comes but us, hide. Stay hidden and wait for us. We will be back."

With that he stepped out, Jazz lingered a moment longer by the door, looking like he wanted to say something, his fists tightening. He gave up, and giving one last glance, walked out, locking the door.

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A few minutes passed, the alarm had stopped, but she could hear loud noises from outside, far away in the surface. Shooting and explosions, bellowing and screaming... it all felt surreal, as if it were a neighbor watching tv too loudly.

She had long left the couch, and had hidden herself inside the overly large stereo system, she hoped it would be enough of a weird spot for no one to remember to look for her there.

Hours passed, all she dared to do was to wait and listen, listen to the endless sounds of battle. Eventually, she started getting tired, her eye lids threatening to fall, heavy on her eyes.

The only thing keeping her awake was the fear of what was happening.

What if they got hurt again? What if they ended up in the medbay again for days? What if they didn't live through that?

A sinking feeling fell on her soul as she considered this. If they died...she's never get a chance to meet her real parents.

So? her inner voice questioned.

So? Its important to me! I want to know where I came from! Who I am! She mentally growled back at herself.

Knowing your parents doesn't define who you are the other side of her argued.

Maybe not, but I still want to know...I have a right to know. And I want to talk to them, I want to get to know them.

Dread filled her, she was afraid that chance might be taken from her, a flood of thoughts about what ifs coming to her mind, not doing any favors to her nerves.

After a bit, someone knocked at the door.

She went still, rigid, not daring to even breathe. That couldn't be Jazz and Prowl, neither of them needed to knock.

Another knock came, but no one spoke. Her eyes slit, that was even more suspicious.

After a moment she could hear someone press the buttons on the control panel outside, getting several denials, then an odd sound, as if something had been crushes. A voice was softly cursing outside, she couldn't make out what it said however, it was all in cybertronian.

Quietly, she prayed to whoever was up there to help her through this one, but that whoever it was, did not hear. The door opened with a hiss, and someone came in.

she didn't dare look, she could only listen from her hiding place.

Light footsteps moved forwards, they stopped at one point, the mech likely scanning the room.
"I know you're here...come out come out you little pest." the voice was foreign, she didn't know this one, he was definitely, most certainly not one of the autobots she met. "Don't make this harder on both of us." the mech spoke, a purr leaving his engine.

Wait, purring? Urgh...that...that was sick.

"Ah...there you are" her heart clenched, fear spreading like flame. H-how? How had he found her? Footsteps approached, she tried not to move, hoping it was all a bluff, hoping he was just trying to get her to give a sign.

He wasn't.

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Prowl was directing the lines like he'd never done before, trying his best to push the enemy back, directing the soldiers per Prime's orders. Jazz's team had gone ahead, the front line being led by Ironhide. Everyone was giving it their all, they all knew what this was about, no one was about to hand it over.

The battle had stretched for over four hours now, it was taking too long. Mechs were going down, It had to be the longest time megatron had stood his ground with the few mechs either side had.
Finally, those blessed words could be heard over the battle noise.
"Decepticons! Fall Back!"

Even so the autobots did not relent, shooting repeatedly at their retreating forms in the sky.

For a long stretched moment they stood there watching in the remains of battle, the only ones moving being Ratchet and his team, taking in the wounded in a hurry.
When they started moving back inside, Jazz ran up to him, resting a hand on his arm comfortingly, checking his mate for any wounds, Prowl instinctively did the same, neither showing it off too obviously.
"We better get back, Lyric must be pretty scared by now" Jazz spoke, his lip plates set in a firm thin line.

Prowl nodded quietly, following after him.

-Jazz! Prowl! We have a situation!- Their commlinks blared to life, giving them RedAlert's here, what is it Red Alert?- the winged mech said tiredly as they made their way across the halls.

-your quarters have been broken into. Did you have anything important in there?- the mech said, slightly panicked.

Both mechs froze, looking at each other with widened optics, without even bothering to answer the security officer the ran, ran as fast as they could, the door was open, their security panel had quickly been hacked into.

"Lyric!" They burst into the darkened quarters.

"Jessica, its all right to come out." Prowl spoke, stepping inside, Jazz following him in closely. His mate gasped, crashing against his back. The panic In his spark quickly infected Prowl's.

He turned to look at where he was looking. His spark sank with the same kind of panic.

There on the floor, between the tv and the small table, was Lyric's human body, eyes open wide and staring at the ceiling ghostly, her long hair spread beneath her in a pool, a mixture of energon and the fake blood of her body, a gaping hole in her chest.
chapter 11: what ifs

reviews are apreciated :3
I feel evil in this chapter.
© 2012 - 2024 LyricaBelachium
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OutLawRose's avatar
WTF...poor Lyrics