Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lynn glared down at her phone in disgust. Another text message dripping with false concern. She should just block the number. She would if she could. But she couldn’t. 

Instead she shoved the phone back into her pocket and shoved the mountain of books into the car. Really, she shouldn’t have picked up so many. But Jasper’s Library system was embarrassingly limited. Her car and apartment might hate her for it, but she’d manage.

The school library was lackluster if Lynn ever measured one. Though in fairness, Jasper wasn’t a large town and it’s inhabitants weren’t exactly rich. Franklin Memorial was the only High School in town, with limited options for more well to do families. There were a few high earners, based on the car models driven by bored teens, but otherwise, it was self contained and solidly in the middle class earning category. At least, that was Lynn’s guess. Still embarrassing that so little effort had been poured into the school library. 

Then again, she shouldn’t complain. If the school board hadn’t been desperate enough to hire a new graduate fresh off her courses, then she’d have been stuck back home. And that sounded like a horrible place to be. Jasper wasn’t exciting, but it was stable. And stable was exactly what she needed right now.

Lynn took in the extra books she’d picked up and added them to the donations bin to log in later when classes were underway. If the kids were half as bored as she suspected, there would likely be one or two bookworms looking to get their next fix before class started. 

She was almost disappointed until a young boy popped by. Apparently Franklin Memorial had some younger students. He barely looked thirteen, and that was generous. Then again, kids were wildly changing around the first few years of high school.

“Oh!” He looked surprised to see her. “Are you the new Librarian?” 

“Yup.” She smiled back at him. “Lynn Chambers.” She held out a hand, which he shook.

“I’m Raf,” He offered. “I thought Mrs. Dodds had another week?”

“She does, technically.” Lynn chucked. “But she’s got paid time off. So, she decided to take that and just not work her last week or so.”

“Oh…” He looked a bit crestfallen. “I was hoping to tell her goodbye before she left…”

“She’ll be back for a final day,” She reassured. “Next Monday.”

“Oh good.” He breathed. “Not that I’m not glad to meet you!” He added quickly.

“It’s alright,” Lynn reassured. “It’s kinda crummy when you don’t get to say goodbye to people. I get it.”

“Yeah…” Raf nodded. “I hate that…”

Lynn could sense the leading in that statement. Oh he was a lonely kid. She had a soft spot for kids like that. But it was too soon to ask him about that. 

“Well, I’m not Mrs. Dodds, but can I help you find something?” She offered. A good lead away from the hard stuff. 

“Oh, yeah!” He passed her his school card. “I was hoping to get some more books on C++.”

“Let’s see what we can’t scrounge up then,” Lynn agreed. She had to bite back her surprise at the subject. Then again, it added a few of her theories about the student. A quick check over his student profile only cemented them. He was twelve. Apparently they couldn’t find an excuse to hold him back with his age group. And judging by his hold history, he had a keen interest in programming and technology. She moved through the system.

“Looks like some of those holds came in,” She checked the back cabinet, producing a set of books. “Here you go.”

“Great!” He brightened. “Thanks!”

“You’re welcome,” She offered a smile back. “Also, if you have any good projects you’re working on, I’d love to see them.”

“Huh?” He looked up in surprise. “Oh...um…”

“Only if you want,” Lynn added. “I’m hoping to gauge what students are interested in so I can find more material when acquisitions start.”

“Oh, okay,” He nodded sheepishly. “Thanks.”

“You bet.” 

The bell rang, giving a warning to students to get to class. 

“I’d better go,” Raf took up his books. “It was nice to meet you Mrs. Chambers!” 

Lynn fought a wince as he took off. Well. That was a new one. And she sincerely hoped she wouldn’t get it too often. 

‘ He was just being polite, ’ She chastised herself. ‘ No need to get so freaked out. ’

And all things considered, having Raf as her first student was a welcome way to kick things off. Hopefully the other students would be manageable.

Lynn wondered if she was allowed to regret her life choices so soon. Probably not. Yet here she was, second guessing herself. They had announced her arrival in the morning announcements over the loudspeaker. A polite welcome. Or declaring open season. Hard to tell. Either way, Lynn wished they hadn't have done it.

Following the end of class several students filed in to ask about her and look for books. Supposedly . Lynn found her patience suddenly low when she realized the Blonde and Redhead students asking about a popular YA series were only acting as decoys. In the stacks, a ginger boy was stuffing his pack with several classic volumes. Easily replaceable, but judging by the haphazard way he was going about it, he had little interest in reading them.

Lynn pretended to slide over to the cart to find the books the girls were looking for, positioning herself three steps from the door. Once the ginger made his way towards the exit, she took those three steps.

“The place is still lame.” He complained. “I was hoping you brought new stuff with you.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Lynn replied smoothly. “I’m guessing you won’t need to be checking out those books then?” 

He scowled. “What books? These are just my textbooks.”

“Then the Principal won’t find security footage of you stuffing school property in there, will he?”

He glared, unzipping his backpack and shoving the books at her roughly.

“All these are good for is a bonfire.” He declared. “You’re as bad as the old bat.”

“I have to disagree,” She smiled brightly, knowing it’d piss the teen off more. “But thank you for the safe return. If you’d like help with anything else?”

“As if.” He pushed past.

“Charming.” Lynn mused. She glanced at the two girls. “Sorry, ladies. That series is still on the back order list. If you’d like to fill out a formal request, I can see that they get bumped up on my order list.”

“Nah,” The redhead shook her head. “I think we’re good.” They followed their male friend out the door, albeit far calmer.

‘ Trouble. ’ Lynn took the books back into the stacks. ‘ Bored kids usually are. That’s what you signed up for. ’

Shortly after that, other students filed in. It was like they were making a game of it. Who could sneak out with a book on the new Librarian’s watch. A few who got caught checked the books out to save face--which was a small victory. She tried not to delight in their walks of shame out to awaiting friends. After all, keeping kids from outright stealing books wasn't in her job description. Not formally at least.

The end of her day was a relief. She’d managed to keep all the books safely in the system, and even logged in a few more materials she had extra copies of from home. Not her finest first day, but it technically counted as a victory. Right? 

Staring at the boxes she had to unpack at home, she wasn’t so sure. 

The week fell into a monotonous  but some what comfortable rhythm. Raf would pop by in the mornings before the bell to trade out books and request holds. Most were programming related, but he also had a keen interest in Science Fiction and robotics. Occasionally an older student would be with him. A transfer student named Miko Nakadai was the first. She seemed mostly bored.

“We could’ve been hanging out with Bee and Bulk.” She complained to him in the stacks. Lynn guessed Mrs. Dodds hearing wasn’t as sharp as her own if the girl thought that stage whisper was subtle.

“I wanted to pick up a few more books to read with Bumblebee,” Raf explained. “Besides. I heard Vince and his goons were giving Mrs. Lynn trouble.”

“Why would he even come here?” She snorted. “He get grounded for racing?”

“I’m not sure,” The younger student admitted. “But nobody should have to deal with Vince.”

“ Fine .” She groused. “But I am not coming after school. I want to go hang out with the bots, not in some stuffy library.”

Lynn decided to keep the overheard conversation to herself. Touched as she was, she knew how much she’d hated being caught in a private conversation when she was that age. Hell, she still did--though that was a whole other story. Honestly it was enough to know that a few of the kids liked her enough to hang out for a little while. It was sweet of them.

The next time Raf brought a friend, it was a tired looking sixteen year old. He introduced himself as Jack Darby. His time in the stacks was a bit more rewarding for him. He seemed equally interested in mechanics, picking out back issues of car magazines and some basic guides to auto mechanics. 

“Raf, I think she’ll be fine,” Jack argued. Either Mrs. Dodds was near deaf, or she wore a fake hearing aid to lull the students into a false sense of security. Either way, Lynn was a little pleased. Apparently that part of her that enjoyed eavesdropping hadn’t died quite yet.

“You know how Vince is,” The younger boy argued.

“Yeah,” Jack admitted. “But Mrs. Chambers is an adult. She works for the school.”

“I’ve heard rumors Vince is planning to do something though.”

“Well then you should tell her. Let her deal with the issue.” 

“What if she thinks we’re involved?”

Lynn considered that. She was a bit more lax around Raf and his friends. Though they hadn’t given her any cause for alarm really. They sounded like a couple of students interested in robotics. Possibly the most productive hobby to have in a place like Jasper. If she’d known anything about it, she’d have offered to look into starting up a club for it. But she didn’t. Her skill set was firmly rooted in the liberal arts. Though she wasn’t half bad at putting together furniture, if she did say so herself.

“Mrs. Chambers?” Raf called.

Whoops. She’d lost herself for a moment. 

“Sorry, Raf,” She laughed, turning to take his books. “Got lost in  my head for a second.”

The boys traded looks. 

“Is it because of Vince?” Jack asked.

“Afraid I don’t have everyone’s names down yet, Jack.” Lynn had a guess though.

“Tall guy, ginger hair, kind of a jerk?” He prompted. Bingo.

“I do recall a student earlier this week that sounds sort of like that,” She scanned the books for Raf. “but I haven’t seen him since then.”

“Just be careful,” Jack recommended. “He holds grudges pretty bad.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” She passed Raf his books, taking Jack’s. “But I’ve had worse customers.”

The older teen grimaced. “I haven’t. I can’t imagine.”

“Customer service?”

“Yeah…” He sighed. “Over at KO Burgers.”

“Rough time.” Lynn smiled sympathetically. “Try not to let it get you down. Steady work experience does actually look good on the resume for better work in the future.”

“Right. Like I can make that look good on a resume.”

Lynn brightened. “You know!” She reached down into her filing cabinet, pulling out a petition. “If you’d like help with that kind of thing, I could run a workshop for interested students. It’d have to be requested by you guys and approved by the principal, but if it’s something useful to you, I’d be happy to run one.”

“Thanks.” He seemed surprised. “But...you should really worry more about Vince.”

“I appreciate the worry, but I’ll take care of things.” She promised. “Meanwhile,” She shoved the last of the magazines to him. “You two should head to class. Can’t have you getting in trouble over extra library time.”

Lynn waved them off cheerfully, but she could see Raf was still worried. Hard to judge if it was just fear of an older boy twice his size, or something more worrying than a teenager with an attitude. Either way she’d keep an eye out.

Aside from Raf and his friends, there were a few bookworms and study types, though most booked it once the troublemakers showed. Apparently the duel between students and librarian was a known issue among the student body. Lovely. 

Lynn documented each incident as they occurred, but wasn’t incredibly surprised at the response. Apparently part of what they paid her for was to put up with nonsense. Wonderful. Well. They couldn’t dock her pay for not doing her due diligence. She suspected Mrs. Dodds would have some interesting stories and advice for her upon her return Monday.

For the end of Friday though, Lynn was able to close up a bit early. She was hopeful to catch up to Raf before heading home, since he’d dropped his ID. Though she knew she’d see him Monday if not. Still, she knew how she hated losing things. It tended to make her feel crazy. So she added it to her stack of books and set out.

Hurrying out to the front of the school she scanned the lot. She caught sight of Jack heading out on a sleek blue bike. She hadn’t thought of him as the motorcycle type. Ah well. Not like she couldn't see the appeal. Miko was vaulting into a large green SUV. That definitely suited her. Then she spotted Raf next to a yellow Muscle car. Interesting.

 “Hey, Raf!” She called, startling the boy. “Glad I caught you.”

“Mrs. Chambers?” His face screwed up in concern. “Everything okay?”

“I think I should be asking you that.” She smiled. “You seem to have forgotten something.”

The panic on his face turned to confusion. “Did I?”

“Here,” Lynn passed him the ID. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Thanks!” He looked relieved. “I didn’t realize I’d left it…”

“It happens,” She smiled. “I’ve left plenty of important things behind before,” Her eyes strayed to the driver’s seat. The empty driver’s seat. Odd.

Raf caught her gaze and looked incredibly uncomfortable. “M-my mom popped inside for a sec to talk to my teacher! She’ll be right back!”

“Okay,” Lynn gave him a reassuring smile. “Well, you have a good weekend, okay?”

He relaxed. “I will. You too, Mrs. Chambers.”

She had to fight to keep her face neutral, as she waved and walked back towards the school entrance. She really hated being called that. Almost as much as she worried about Raf’s reaction. What made him so nervous? Was his mother--No. Now she was just projecting. Lynn sighed under the safety of the stone archway, blocking any view of the parking lot. She was going to have to get a therapist. Soon, she decided, opening the front door. Vince went barreling through, knocking the books out of her hands.

‘ Bored teenagers .’ She thought, stopping to scoop up her scattered goods. She poked her head around the stone archway. Vince hopped into his own sporty car--one of the nicer vehicles in the lot, and sped off. Lynn frowned. The bright yellow Camero was gone. But...Raf had said…

Lynn picked up the rest of the books and scowled to herself. That was odd. Very odd. No one could have made it to the lot from the school building without passing her. And aside from Vince, no one had. 

‘ You’re doing it again, ’ She chastised herself. ‘Seeing things that aren’t there.’

Lynn gathered her things and headed to the staff parking. She needed to get food, go home, and try not to think about things too much. It was her first week in Jasper. Maybe it had pleasant surprises rather than the ones her gut was screaming about. Maybe the sleepy town would prove her wrong. Maybe.

Chapter Text

KO Burgers was...awful. There wasn’t a nice way to put it. The food was grease flavored and salted within an inch of its life. But it was warm and cheap, and something Lynn didn’t have to make herself. Basically perfect for a Friday night.

Jack was working the window, much to his chagrin. Admittedly, she’d have felt dumb in the little paper hat too. Otherwise, he got to keep his usual clothes. Probably a money saving cost for the Burger joint. 

“Hey, Mrs. Chambers,” He offered, trading her money for a greasy bag. 

“How you doing, Jack,” She replied, Trying to ignore the honorific.

“Ready to be done for the night.” He shrugged, handing her the change. “But it’s a job.”

“It is.” She nodded. “Don’t let it get to you.” She put a couple extra dollars into the tip jar.

She paused at the stop sign to let a woman motorcycle go ahead and pull into the lot. Perfect time to double check the food. Good thing too, she was missing her fries. Lynn sighed and pulled around. Well. It was Friday. She’d always dreaded the Friday night shift in high school. 

As she pulled around to sit in the line, she studied the lot. Old habits died very hard. It was mostly empty--everyone preferring to take the drive-thru apparently. Except for the motorcyclist. Lynn frowned as she looked at it. It looked a bit like the one Jack had driven from school. Apparently that was a popular model. Though, the lobby looked empty…Maybe another coworker? Maybe..Lynn looked around the lot. Empty, with no place to hide an adult. 

“You’re losing it, Lynn,” She chastised. “She can’t reach you here. She doesn't even know where you are.” It didn’t ease her fears. 

Thankfully the line went fast and she was able to ask for her fries. The man on the other end sighed, complained about the ‘useless kid’, and offered her a much larger helping of fresh fries at no extra charge. Hell, Jack had just done her a favor.

Lynn pulled up to the window and waited. She could see Jack heading out the lobby. Apparently his shift had ended. Good for him. Confusion hit her hard as he mounted the blue motorcycle, donned a helmet and took off. The same bike that had been driven by a woman.

She was distracted by the older server handing her out a fresh bag of fries and a fistful of napkins. She took them and made her way home. 

She tried not to ponder it too seriously. But that gut instinct of hers was in overdrive. Something was off. Something about what she was encountering was definitely off. 

Lynn munched on her fast food and debated her available actions. She could ignore it. Whatever it was, she was a newcomer and utterly uninvolved. If she kept her head down and her nose out of nonsense, she’d be fine. Then again, something was off with her students. Even as a librarian, she had a duty to them. And frankly, that was what her favorite mentor had done for her. Stuck her neck out, and did what she could. Lynn owed them her due diligence.

So how to go about that…

She started with looking into their files. Technically she didn’t have a reason, but she could easily make one up if need be. Though, she doubted the school cared that much. Mrs. Dodd’s could fill in more blanks on Monday.

Jack’s file came up first. As she’d suspected, he was doing well in shop class, decent in his other courses. Everything read off as a responsible kid. A few notes for a science fair incident, and a note about emergency contact. His mom. A nurse.

Miko’s file had a host family attached and notes on her program. She’d had some bad marks for history papers, but nothing too egregious. She’d been tardy a lot earlier in the year, but seemed to be showing up on time just fine now. Also a weird mark on the science fair incident. Nothing about shop class though. Maybe she was more the broad strokes idea person in the bot squad. 

Raf’s had the notes about his academic prowess, marked with good conduct all around, save for a science fair incident….

Lynn sighed and pulled up the video. It was a poor quality one that a student had clearly filmed from their phone and put up to mock their fellow students. A user by the tag of SeeSeewhtudidthere , had posted one of Miko’s bizarre solar system. It reminded Lynn of an old rock album cover. It just needed a trademark free wizard or a white tiger roaring lightning. 

Another, uploaded by user VanishPointVin#1, had Jack’s project. A motor that gleamed and didn’t seem to do much other than wreak havoc, and destroy a sturdy school door. Odd for a shop kid to be that confused and unenthused by his own work. 

The last was uploaded by Blondeflatwhite224. In it was a monstrous sized volcano, shaped by welded metals with an ominous red button and a green one. Honestly, Lynn thought, cringing as the teacher asked what it did. What did the fool expect was going to happen? Then again, the weird lazer beam that eviscerated the school ceiling was more than even she’d expected. 

“The hell kind of robotics club are these kids running?”

Lynn sighed and finished off the last of her fries. Honestly? This didn’t give her much. Maybe instead of the local librarian looking after lonely kids, it was some pseudo scientist robotics hack looking after a gang of misfits. How very 80s. 

“I’m going to drive myself crazy worrying about it.” She tried to reason herself towards bed.

She took another look at the usernames. “Due diligence….”

Looking through the usernames made her want to scream. Kids their age should be way more careful about using the same usernames across so many sites. No matter how clever they thought they were.

Lynn had uncovered a goldmine of student social networking. And it was appalling. The snippets with the trending tag of #lootthelibrary and #bookburnchallenge were enough to make her want to cry. Apparently the challenge  was that a student had to take a book without getting caught and then put up a video of them burning it. A few students had recommended taking the classics or easily replaced so no one be suspicious of them.

“Do I look stupid?” She complained to herself. Apparently a good chunk of the student body thought so. 

The more interesting tidbits however, were about kids scheduling races. Dear god, how did the cops not catch them? Maybe they were turning a blind eye?

Lynn found some chatter about Jack and his online handle Jackoftrades . Apparently he’d been known to race on his bike, and...a yellow Camaro?

“That’s what Raff was in….” A wave of fear ran over Lynn. The other most popular name among racers and street race talk was Vince. Which made sense--his car an attitude…

“There’s no way that Raff and Jack are…” But Jack was. The proof was there. And Miko seemed like the type of teen to enjoy that kind of thrill. 

“Oh no…” Lynn groaned. “I’m a librarian , I’m not cut out for talking kids out of street racing!”

Her eyes strayed unwillingly to the picture on her nightstand. Her own teen self stood arm in arm with the library staff at her old home library. Judy, John, and Heather, all surrounding her with support and love.

“But I’ll try…”

Lynn hated how easy it was to track down the race location. It was embarrassing on more levels than she cared to count. The kids weren’t hiding anything, because no authority figures were looking. Or caring. And maybe that was a safer option for some. Except safer didn’t actually mean good. Lynn knew that from experience.

“Jasper Nevada…” Lynn sighed to herself as she found a large column of rock to park her car behind, and footed it the rest of the way.  “Purgatory for teens.” A bit dramatic. Artistic flair, if she were generous. Hopefully something interesting would create a more interesting title for this chapter in her life.

Lynn found said teens, and with her old college hoodie over her head, passed a little too well for her own liking. Then again, they were all stuck on the cars and their crushes. Most were also bundled against the cold desert night in their own hoodies and jackets. Honestly, the whole ordeal was too easy. 

“I heard Jack quit racing after some guys jumped him near a bridge last week,” One girl was saying to a familiar redhead.

“No way! He was an incredible racer!”

“Maybe you should ask him to come back,” The other girl snickered. “He’s definitely into you, Cici.” 

“He’s cute and all,” The redhead, Cici, sighed. “But I like a guy with some fight in him, ya know? Someone impressive .”

Lynn had to fight her eyes from rolling out of her head. Teens. Not that she’d been any better. Still, it was painful to watch in real time.

At least that meant she wasn’t going to have to talk him out of anything. And as far as she could see, there were no signs or Miko, Raf, or the yellow Cameao. Which meant she’d wasted her Friday night to mingle among a bunch of kids who would probably not take kindly to her being there. Brilliant.

Lynn snuck off as they gathered around the cars to start the race. She made it to her car and debated her options again. Calling the police on them seemed harsh. Calling their parents...Lynn shuddered.

Cops it was. She made the call quietly and then took off once her anonymous tip was given. Now to go home and watch the fallout online.

At least...that had been the plan. As she drove, she noticed a sporty red car following her. Closely . Lynn reached for her phone again, making a new call, anonymity be damned. As she gave the information, her location and emergency, the red car sped up and slammed into her back bumper. 

Lynn jerked hard on the steering wheel, tossing the phone aside. Do or die. She wanted to throw up. Instead she hit the gas pedal hard, shooting forward. She could hear a loud cackle from the other car as she forced her abused old blue beater past it’s limits. 

“Aren’t you just in a bad way?” The voice was smooth and taunting. “All alone, in a trash heap like that?”

Lynn cut her wheel hard, making a sharp dig towards the other car. It ducked back, narrowly avoiding her swerve.

“Watch the finish!” He snarled.

There were at least a few things Lynn was sure of. The first--that no teen, no matter how entitled or intelligent was self assured enough to belong to the voice that was taunting her. I was someone but no one she knew. Secondly, they weren’t in the least concerned about her keeping her life. Third, She was alone in the desert, now racing towards town.

"Get to town, get to town, get to town," She chanted aloud. If she made it to where people where, He'd go away. He had to. Whoever he was, He coudln't risk being caught doing this.

Her car shuddered, tires squealing as the other car rammed hers. Lynn screamed, just barely keeping from spinning out of control as she drove through the dust. Her hands gripped hard as she jerked her wheel, pulling her car back onto the road.

“He’s going to kill me…” Horror made her voice flat and odd to her ears. “I’m going to die…”

“Oh human !” The red car was making another dart towards her.

It all happened in rapid succession. Lynn’s mind didn’t even fully make sense of it until later, when it had the freedom to process it all. A semi came over on her side, while a dark SUV rushed the other. An arm of sorts caught her little car, lifting her off the road and into the air. 

Metal met metal in the sounds of screeching and yells. Then there was laser fire lighting up the night in blues and reds. Lynn tried in vain to drive, her mind refusing the reality of her being held aloft somehow. 

“Ratchet!” A strong, authoritative voice called. “Open the groundbridge!” 

And then Lynn watched as what little sense in the world vanished in a haze of running robots and green light enveloping her. Her body hummed from the energy, her very bones vibrating from the transition. And when she could see clearly again, there was a strange concrete military structure around her. 

“I’m dead.” Lynn mumbled. “They killed me, and I’m in purgatory. It all makes sense now.”

The car frame rattled as something--someone--placed it onto the ground. The passenger side airbag went off.

“Mrs. Chambers!” Raff’s knock on her door startled her back out of the existential crisis.

“Just Miss,” She mumbled, pushed the door open. “I’m not married, Raff. Please, just Miss…” Lynn was stopped by the seat belt. She undid it and half tumbled out of the car.

“Miss Chambers,” The authoritative voice spoke, causing her to look up for the source. A towering giant of metal and lights was looking down at her. With glowing retinas and….concern… “Are you alright?”

“I...need a minute.” She admitted, wobbling back up to her feet. “I think the adrenaline did a number on me…” She trembled.

“You may experience a crash in it shortly,” A voice called. “Your organic body is still panicking.”

“There’s a shock!” She bit back. “Not like a life and death situation happened. Not like…” She trailed off looking back at the steel giant, and then at Raff. “I have so many questions.”

“And we shall answer them,” The giant promised. “Though I ask that you sit with our Chief Medical Officer while we do so.”

The grouchy medic was shorter by a good number of feet, and somehow, that made him feel less threatening. He scanned her body, grumbled a bit, then scowled. 

“Scanner’s broken again.” He complained. “Your heart rate can’t be that high.”

“It  probably is.” Lynn smiled weakly. “I...don’t cope so good with excitement…”

“Dude,” Miko was there now, frowning at the Librarian from a safe spot on a balcony, Jack next to her. “You just got to take part in an epic bot chase! How are you not pumped?!”

“Mostly, I feel like throwing up, Miko…”

“Maybe some water?” Jack suggested.

“And a bucket.”

He nodded and the two older kids retreated. Miko grumbled as she went.

“I’m not familiar with organic health,” The CMO  bot scowled. “You seem to know what you’re ailing from.”

“Yeah…” She offered a weak smile as the tremors set in. “I do.”

“Are you going to share or am I going to be forced to guess?” He snapped.

Lynn winced at the tone. “I don’t want to talk about it with strangers and the kids around…”

He scowled and heaved a long suffering sigh, but sent Raf off to ward the others off for a minute. 

“Now,” Ratchet grumbled. “Your medical history?”

“It’s PTSD…” She grimaced. 

Ratchet tapped his arm monitor, scowled, and looked back at her. “What in the name of the Allspark gave you that ?”

“That’s my business.” She shot back.

“I didn’t mean to insult you,” His tone turned calm. “I understand from what the kids have told us, you’re an archivist.”

“Librarian.” She nodded.

“A respectable field.” The medic nodded. He gestured another bot--a large green tank sized bot, who plodded off. “Managing the knowledge of your species is an impressive career choice.”

“If only the rest of the world saw it that way.” Lynn smiled. “I’m Lynn. You’re Ratchet?”

“Excellent memory.” 

“Too good.” She straightened as the kids came over. Miko handed her an old mop bucket.

“All we could find.” she shrugged.

“It’ll do fine,” Lynn nodded her thanks. Jack passed her a bottle of water while Raf watched her anxiously.

“Give her room to breath,” Ratchet ordered.

“I think I’m okay,” She reassured. “Just a little shook up.”

“You took on Knockout, and you’re ‘shook up’?” Miko groaned. “Again, why not pumped?!”

“I’ll leave that to you.” Lynn picked up the bucket, and hurled. There was a half groan, half yell of disgust from the medic bot. Nearby another beeped and trilled.

“Don’t take that tone with me!” The medic barked back. “That’s disgusting !”

“Try being the one doing it.” Lynn bit back.

He opened his mouth to argue. A polite ‘ahem’ from the first bot caused him to pause. He glanced back at the apparent leader, scowled, and turned away. Some half coherent mumbles followed him as he strode to the over-sized monitor and control panels.

The taller bot waited patiently for her to finish her unpleasant purge, before gesturing to a much smaller built blue bot. She groaned, but took the bucket to dispose of.

“Lynn Chambers,” The tall bot addressed her. “I am Optimus Prime. The leader of the Autobots,” He gestured to Ratchet, the large green bot, a yellow bot with a surprisingly friendly face, and the retreating blue one. “We have come to your planet, seeking refuge after our war with the Decepticons ravaged our home world of Cybertron.”

“I’ve heard of that before…” Lynn scowled. “Recently…”

“Wait. You know about Cybertron?!” Miko cried.

“But how?” Raf wondered.

“Pretty sure it was your science project.” Lynn looked at Miko.

“Huh? How did you know about that?”

“You’re joking.” Lynn deadpanned. “Just how old do you guys think I am?”

“Uhhhhh….I dunno, thirty?” She shrugged.

“Oh man!” Raff cried, running for his backpack. “I didn’t even think to check the net for those!”

“They’re online?” Jack moaned.

“Right along with your history of being some hotshot racer.” Lynn added dryly.

“Those days are over!” He insisted.

“ Very , over,” The blue bot agreed.

“Good.” Lynn breathed. 

“Wait. Is that why you were out there?” Jack asked.

“Let’s just say when I started digging around I found things that didn’t add up.”’ She shrugged. “I and I’d be a negligent adult if I didn’t at least make sure the students I’m supposed to help were okay.”

“By snitching on us?” Miko scowled.

“Only if needed.” 

“I see…” Optimus nodded. “You consider the younger humans well being as your responsibility as well?”

“I work for the school, so yeah.” Lynn nodded. “I’m obligated to help students how I can.”

“Snoop.” Miko complained.

“Hide your government grade secrets better next time.” Lynn smiled. “Speaking of which, does the government know about you guys?” She looked to Optimus again. “Because you may not want to tell them about yourselves.”

“We are in an alliance with your government,” He affirmed. 

“Condolences.”

That earned a chortle from the medic.

“Agent Fowler may not be the most patient liaison, but he has proven a trusted friend and ally.” Optimus continued after a brief look of disapproval at Ratchet. “The vehicle that attacked you was a Decepticon known as Knockout.”

“So he was a...Cybertron...denizen…”

“Cybertronian in origin,” Ratchet confirmed.

“Con by choice.” The green mech added.

“They seriously call themselves Decepticons ?” 

“It’s a long story,” Optimus smiled gently. “One that is best suited for another time.”

“Right. Focusing,” Lynn nodded.

“The Decepticons have come to Earth to mine Energon--the substance that sustains us,” He continued. “I fear that if they are able to gain the advantage here, the human race will be in grave danger.”

“They don’t like organics.” Lynn guessed.

“To be fair, they don’t Autobots either,” Jack put in.

“Or each other.” The blue bot quipped.

“With the help of your government we are holding them at bay.” Optimus continued. “And trying to regroup to retake our home.”

“I see.” Lynn half lied. “Kinda.” She clarified. “But where do the kids fit into this?” 

“Our human friends were caught up in an attack from the Decepticons. As they were seen with us, we have taken charge to see to their protection. The same protection we’re now extending to you.”

Lynn scowled, pieces falling into place. “You guys aren’t in a robotics club!”

“What made you think that?” Raf added.

“Maybe Mrs. Dodd’s is deaf, but you guys really talk loudly in a library.”

“Dude.” Miko’s eyes widened. “You were listening ?”

“Why do you think the book burn challenge has gone so poorly?” 

“ Sneaky .” The exchange student nodded approval. “There’s hope for you yet.”

“Optimus,” The blue female spoke up. “Who’s going to be Chamber’s guardian? We’re kinda shorthanded.”

“Whoa!” Lynn shook her head. “Nope. I work for a living. I’m an adult. I don’t need a guardian.”

“No, it’s totally the best!” Miko tried to reassure her. “Just look at me and Bulk!” She tapped the big green bot on the leg. He gave a sheepish smile.

“It’s actually pretty cool,” Jack agreed.

The yellow bot made more of the trills and beeps.

“Bee says he can help drive you to school or to base,” Raf translated.

“Ratchet,” Optimus spoke up.

“Absolutely not!” The medic snapped, whirling on them. “Optimus! I have my hands full with the base. And you heard her--she’s an adult! Like Agent Fowler.”

“Nevertheless, old friend,” Optimus pressed on. “Miss Chambers is an archivist, and not trained or armed to defend herself.  It is up to us to take turns in seeing to our new ally’s safety. We cannot ask the others to take on another charge.”

“I’m with docbot,” Lynn rose. “As much as I appreciate the offer, It’s a no go. Also, people are going to ask questions if a medical vehicle is constantly showing up at my building.”

“Or a semi.” Jack added.

“My decision is final.” Optimus ordered. He bent closer to Lynn’s level, his steady gaze meeting hers. “While I do not wish to take away your freedoms, Miss Chambers, I cannot allow any harm to come to you from the hands of the Decepticons.”

Lynn could feel the tremors starting again, the room starting to sway. Everything but the Autobot Leader before her. She forced her hands into fists to keep them steady. 

“I said no. ”

Chapter Text

Lynn woke to the beeping from the familiar heart monitor. She tapped her free fingers to the beeps, studying the sticky tape holding her IV down. She felt awful. But alive. And there wasn’t a large robot looming over her. No one detailing their plans for her. No one taking her agency.

“Miss Chambers,” A woman’s voice called down. “Good to see you awake. How are you feeling?”

“I’ve had better days.” Lynn admitted, studying the woman’s face. It was familiar. A look over her uniform showed a name tag that cleared that up. June. As in June Darby.

“I can imagine,” The nurse nodded sympathetically. “The man who found you thought you were having a heart attack.”

“Ah.” Lynn nodded. “That.”

“Do you know what triggered that attack?”

“No.” Lynn lied. The memory of looking up at someone--something?--much larger than herself and telling them no. God, the damned Robot had lifted her car with her in it in one hand. What was she thinking, trying to face that down? 

“Who brought me in?” She asked trying to refocus on something she could deal with.

“An agent Fowler,” June shrugged. “If you’re up to speaking with him, he’s got some questions. But only if you feel up to it.”

Lynn nodded. “I’ll hear him out.” If only to get rid of him. Or to get rid of the alien robots. Words she never thought she would think in a constructive manner.

A moment later Nurse Darby returned with a middle aged man wearing a cheap suit and tired smile. If Jack had the air of an overworked teen, Agent Fowler was an overworked, underpaid, and impatient government agent. His suit was one of those off the rack types with a non-descript striped tie, and wrinkled button up. 

“I’ll be back to check in on you in a bit,” Nurse Darby reassured her patient. “The call button’s there if you need it.”

“Thanks.”

The nurse gave a sharp look to the agent. “Go easy.” And then she was gone.

“Well,” Agent Fowler agreed, taking the files from under his arm to. He tossed them on the nearby chair as the door clicked shut. “You’ve got some guts telling Optimus Prime ‘No’. Had that medic muttering up a real storm. A whole fight with himself because he agreed with you, but then you told his boss off. Pretty funny.”

“I’m rolling with laughter.” Lynn grumbled. “Politely, Agent Fowler, I would like to not have my personal life invaded. It starts out with a goddamned Emergency vehicle or a mac track outside my house, and next thing you know, I’m chipped up and they can track me on any planet.”

His smile fell into a more neutral look of general disapproval. “While I understand your hesitancy to be chaperoned like a teen at prom, it isn’t you ratting them out that’s got us worried.”

“Right. Their Decepticons.” 

“Listen, I’ve seen the damage the cons can do first hand. Even with the best resources our government has available to me, I’d be more than a little nervous trying to take them on without Team Prime.”

“Do I look like I want to fight giant Alien robots?” Lynn gestured to the heart monitor.

“No…” He admitted, his tone softening a fraction. “Look, I’m going to level with you, Miss Chambers. If it were up to me we’d transfer you to a government job somewhere you couldn’t get hurt. But Prime’s insistent that you’re under Autobot Protection. Now you and I need to find a way to make that work.”

“If you’re offering me money, I’m going to pass.” She rolled her eyes. 

“Alright,” He agreed, reaching for the pile of files. “What about a more in depth investigation on your mother?”

Lynn could feel her veins go cold. “Come again?”

“Child Services has been anonymously called on several dozen occasions over the last six yeas. Records state that home visits were concerning, but lacked consistent follow ups.” He frowned. “Though the tipper said the mom’s boyfriend was dangerous.”

“Can you help them?” Lynn asked quickly. “The kids, I mean? Mom...mom’s as bad as he is.”

“I can get a real investigation underway,” Fowler agreed. “Though they won’t be able to award you custody. We already have too many humans under Autobot Protection.”

“I’d be a terrible long term guardian.” She admitted. “I don’t have what they need. Just...get them out… And somewhere safe.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “I’ll get them set up. And you’ll report back to base tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Lynn agreed. “You have a deal.

Lynn was released from the hospital within short order. She traded phone numbers with agent Fowler before he dropped her off at her apartment. Her car was still out of commission after the incident, and according to Fowler, wasn’t likely to be out of the shop until Tuesday at best. That was followed up with a promise to pay for the repairs, and assurance that one of the Autobots could take her to work. Lynn was just grateful she still had her purse and keys intact. 

She found herself staring blankly at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Instead she trolled through the socials. There were dozens of angry ranting threads over the cops being called. One kid--the slow racer--hadn’t been able to get away in time. No word on if he’d been arrested or warned, just that he’d been caught.

Lynn sighed. Hopefully the cops would have his parents pick him up and let him off with a speeding ticket. Something that turned the kid off of racing and onto other hobbies.

“Hobbies he might not have access to…” She groaned. “Why didn’t I ask Fowler for funding ?”

She shut her eyes, hoping it would shut the torrent of thoughts. There was nothing more she could do about it tonight. Tomorrow she’d meet up with her “Friends” and look into what freedoms she was still allowed under Autobot watch. Monday, if she was able to keep her job, She’d get as much insight from Mrs. Dodd’s as possible. Maybe even take notes. For now, she should sleep.

Lynn didn’t sleep. Despite her best efforts, and her desire to shut her mind off, she couldn’t. By the time she thought about grabbing the Melatonin from the box under the bathroom sink, it was 4 am and pointless. 

Instead she rolled out of bed and made a full fresh pot of coffee. The caffeine was a terrible idea considering how hard her heart had hammered the night before, but she was too drained to care. It would serve Optimus Prime right if she dropped dead of heart failure at his feet.

Her phone buzzed. Lynn sighed, reaching for her phone. Agent Fowler must be an early bird. She stopped.

“That was a terrible pun.” She acknowledged, then  picked up her phone.

‘ Who did you tell?’ 

Lynn didn’t even need the ID for that message. Her hands started to shake as she dropped it like a snake that had bit her. 

“At least Fowler’s good on his word…” She tried to comfort herself. It didn’t work.

Lynn had managed another sip of coffee before her phone buzzed again. She flipped it over cautiously. 

‘ I’ll kill you for this ’

Lynn turned her phone off. If Fowler wanted to reach her, he could come to her goddamn door. She downed the rest of her coffee and turned to her laptop. The moving expenses had put her in a harder spot financially, but this was important. She could manage on a rice and eggs week in trade for her own peace of mind and safety.

Her morning was spent drinking ungodly amounts of coffee and ordering pepper  spray, key ring alarms, keychain weapons, a pocket knife, and a stun gun. She’d look for a sturdy bat next time she was at the store. 

There was a knock on her door. Lynn opened it to find Jack.

“Optimus said your phone wasn’t working?”

“Dead battery,” Lynn lied. “I forgot to charge in the...excitement.”

“Gotcha.” He smiled. “Well, he’s waiting for you downstairs. Arcee and I’ll meet you guys at base.”

“Hey,” She leaned forward. “Be honest with me for a sec. Are you really good with them?”

“Honestly?” He tipped his head. “Yeah. Arcee’s pulled me out of plenty of scrapes. And I like to think I’ve pulled her out of a few.”

“And your mom is just... cool with this?”

There it was. The wince. Lynn had her suspicions based on Nurse Darby’s excellent but purely professional demeanor last night. Poor woman was in the dark.

“You can not tell her!” Jack pleaded.

“I won’t.” Lynn grumbled, cracking her neck. “I get it. Just...look, your mom seems like a decent parent. Try not to give her stuff to worry about?”

“Of course.” He nodded.

“Can you let Optimus Prime know I’ll be down in a sec? I’m not going out in my pj’s.”

“Sure thing.” Jack waved. “See you at base, Miss Chambers.”

Lynn shut and locked the door. She shed her comfy coffee and sloth themed PJ’s for casual jeans and a clean hoodie. She stopped long enough to power a travel mug of coffee and her phone. Then she plodded downstairs.

The large red and blue semi truck parked in her apartment building’s parking lot was as conspicuous as Lynn had suspected. She fought the urge to complain and instead hauled herself up and inside.

“Greetings, Miss Chambers.” Optimus Prime’s voice was weirdly strong in the cab. A moment later, Lynn was buckled in and the massive truck was moving. “I wish to apologize for upsetting you last night.”

“Okay.” Lynn grunted. “Feel free.”

To his credit, he didn’t flare up at that. His tone remained cool and even. “I should not have pressed you as hard as I did while you were still in distress. Nor should I have assumed you would be as receptive to your new living conditions so soon. For that, I am truly sorry.”

“But not sorry enough to let me off the hook.”

“It is not my intention to hold you hostage, Miss Chambers. Merely to ensure your safety from future Decepticon attacks.”

“Why did that Decepticon attack me anyway?” Lynn wondered, sipping her travel mug.

“Knockout has been known to partake in human races,” Optimus explained. “He enjoys showing off, racing, and being admired. I would theorize he picked up the police scanners, and was able to pick you out as the likely source of the tip.”

“Better me than the kids I guess…” She sighed.

“I am of the opinion that your life is equally valuable, Lynn Chambers.” It was oddly gentle and sincere the way he intoned it. “But I am grateful you were able to last until we could get to you.”

“Well...that makes two of us.” She frowned. “And...thank you. I may not like being forced to be involved in all of this, but I do appreciate you saving my life.”

“You are welcome.” 

“And I’ll accept your apology on one condition.”

There was a notable pause. “Which is?”

“I want to honk your horn.”

There was a low chuckle. “Under the condition you tell no one about it.”

“Deal!” Lynn agreed, her fingers crossed. The honk was more satisfying than she’d suspected, giving her a stupid grin as they drove into the Nevada dessert.

Chapter Text

Lynn found herself a subject of interest now that she and Optimus were on base. The big green guy--Bulk, as Miko called him--gave her a measured look of respect.

“Takes serious bearings to tell Prime no.” He explained upon her asking. 

“For all the good it did.” Lynn grumbled. She might have accepted the apology for triggering her, but Optimus had yet to apologize for the core issue--forcing her along. The reason he’d given felt flimsy when she thought over it enough. Could Decepticons even tell humans apart? That aside the perks and benefits from Fowler didn’t erase the feeling of resentment. It certainly didn’t lighten the ticking time bomb her phone was becoming.

“You get used to being in the bot squad,” Jack offered.

The yellow bot--Bumblebee--gave off a series of chirps and beeps. Lynn didn’t understand any of it, but Raff seemed proficient in it.

“Bee’s right.” Raff agreed. “He says once you get to know everyone, it’s like family.”

Lynn suppressed a shudder. She tried to smile and give an encouraging response. 

“I see.” Not her best. But hey, it was neutral. That had to count for something, right?

“Come on,” Jack offered, sensing the tension. “Let’s show you around base.”

The tour was longer than Lynn would have expected. The team itself was small and limited, with the kids and their guardians explaining along the way. Apparently the war had scattered their side to the wind, while the Decepticons had managed to stay closer together.

“A con always needs another con to feel superior to,” Arcee explained.

Still, they'd managed to make contact with an old friend of Bulkhead’s a while back--a mech named Wheeljack. But according to Bulk and Miko he was a free spirit kind of mech, who wanted to get back out into space. 

“Why’d Optimus cut him loose and not me?” She complained. Even if he was an experienced  soldier, it was infuriating.

“You’re not going to let that go?” Arcee asked, her optics narrowing.

“It’s not even been twenty four hours,” Lynn retorted. “I think I’m still entitled to be a bit bitter about it.”

“Dude,” Miko shook her head. “ Why ? How is this not the coolest thing to happen in your life?”

“Oh yeah, it’s cool. But it’s also inconvenient, hard to handle, complicated.” Lynn paused. “You know, I’m getting too heated. I think I’m going to take a break. Maybe pick up this tour stuff later.”

“Good call.” Arcee agreed. “I think the rest of us are due for a patrol.”

Lynn watched as the Autobots transformed and the kids loaded up. Bumblebee said something in his odd speech pattern. Raff perked up.

“Bee wants to know if you want to come with.” He explained.

“Thanks,” Lynn forced a tired smile. “But you guys go on ahead.”

She watched them take off down the tunnel that led out into the dessert. She hated how badly she was taking it all. How much her own negativity was creeping into how she spoke to the bots and the kids. It wasn’t their fault. And she couldn’t blame them for not being as utterly horrified by it all as she was. They were good kids, living a life kid her could have only dreamed of. And the other Autobots were following orders, and making friends. It wasn’t fair that they had to deal with Lynn’s problems.

“Well,” She sighed. “Maybe now I can afford therapy.” She mentally kicked herself for not adding that to her list of demands. Fowler really had gotten off easy.

Lynn wandered back to the main area. Optimus was busy elsewhere, while Ratchet focused on something he was tinkering with. Lynn decided to try her luck with the old couch. It was worn and something her back would hate her for sleeping on. Too bad for her back.

She didn’t know how long she managed to sleep. Just enough to make her feel groggy and lethargic as Fowler’s shouts caused her to sit upright. They weren’t angry shouts. More like an actor projecting his stern disapproval across stage--a sound the silo was all too happy to bounce around.

“Izit?” Lynn mumbled unintelligibly.

“A report on a human mercenary organization called M.E.C.H.” Ratchet explained. 

“They’re terrorists!” Fowler snapped. “And besides gathering more tech, we don’t know what it is they’re after!”

“Lovely.” Lynn grumbled. “They know about Cybertron too?”

“They lack any concrete knowledge of our history or physiology,” Ratchet sighed. “But that’s cold comfort.”

“They are dangerous,” Optimus agreed. “And while this report is troubling, it does allow us to be on our guard.”

“Prime,” Fowler scowled. “With tech like that, it’s clear they’re gearing up to take down more than just a cell tower. That kind of concentrated electricity could knock you or your bots out.”

“So they’re making Autobot Stunguns?” Lynn tilted her head thoughtfully. That’d be useful against a Decepticon.

“Or Decepticon.” Ratchet mused.

“Either way, it’s a problem!” 

“We cannot act to take down M.E.C.H. without further information, Agent Fowler.” Optimus pointed out. “We shall be alert, but until more information is learned, I cannot promise you more.”

“Times like this makes me miss Jazz.” Ratchet sighed.

“Guessing that’s a person, and not just the music.”

“Jazz was head of special ops on Cybertron,” The medic explained. “His ability to gather information is...uncanny.”

“I see.”

Ratchet frowned at her. 

“Okay, I don’t.” Lynn shrugged in defeat. “I’m trying to be polite.”

“I see.” Ratchet quipped.

“Ratchet,” Optimus chastised. 

“Just don’t get shot,” Fowler warned. “We can’t have them getting their hands on Cybertronian tech.”

“Understood, agent Fowler.” Optimus agreed.

“And as for you,” Fowler lowered his tone, making his way from the main platform near the monitors. “I’ve got an update on your investigation.”

“Yes?” Lynn sat up straighter.

“Pulled a few strings with an old friend in the FBI. She managed to get solid paydirt on your mom’s boyfriend. The kids were taken into custody until their grandparents could get them.”

“Good.” Lynn nodded. “Mom and Nanna had a huge falling out years ago. She won’t let her near the kids.”

“I’ll keep you updated.” Fowler smiled. “Meanwhile, if they contact you, keep it all for evidence and don’t respond.”

“I won’t.” She promised.

Ratchet scowled. “What’s this about?”

“It is part of the bargain struck for Miss Chamber’s cooperation.” Optimus explained. “There were concerns about her caretaker holding custody of her spark siblings. Some are very young protoforms.”

“And considering what they’ve uncovered so far,” Fowler added, glancing at Lynn. “It was the right call.”

“Hmmm.” Ratchet frowned. “Why did it take a government agent to handle something like that?”

“Looks like the boyfriend had a relative in CPS.” Fowler frowned. “And you,” He pointed to Lynn. “Didn’t hear me say that.”

“Sure didn’t.” She agreed. “Not that I didn’t suspect it.”

“CPS?

“Child Protective Services,” Fowler translated for the medic. 

Ratchet squinted at Lynn. “Is...that normal for humans?”

“Yes and no.” She sighed. “It’s wrong--universally recognized as wrong and messed up--but there’s no shortage of bad people on our planet. And people who shouldn’t have kids.”

The medic shuddered. “On Cybertron a lengthy process to become a caretaker to a new protoform...Or there was before the war.”

Lynn considered that. “Guess there’s too much going on to raise any right now…”

“Any Protoforms left would be so much raised as they would be airdropped into battlefields.” Ratchet sighed. “I don’t envy the job of Psychologists of trying to go through what that would do to them.”

“Anyway,” Fowler spoke up. “You keep yourself out of contact with those two,” He turned his attention to Prime. “You keep a look out for M.E.C.H.”

“Understood, Agent Fowler,” Optimus spoke evenly. His gaze turned to Lynn “We have other concerns to be addressed as well.”

“Good luck then,” The agent turned and walked to the elevator. Lynn had to wonder, as she watched him go, if he was talking to Prime, or herself.

“Miss Chambers,” Optimus looked down to her. “We have much to discuss.”

She was half expecting a lecture for her attitude. It put her in a place she didn’t like. Like she was a teenager all over again. Stuck where she didn’t want to be with problems that weren’t hers to carry. Back to being the one with no agency or power. 

“Since you will be with the children at school much of the time for your work, we can work with your schedule to have you come with them after school.”

“My hours are a bit longer than the kids,” She explained, relaxing a fraction. This was just logistics. She could handle that. “It’s about another thirty minutes for me--assuming there’s no additional staff meetings.”

“Hmmmm…” He considered that. “That does alter things…”

“Look, once I get my car back and fixed up, I can just drive here myself.”

“I dislike the idea of leaving you without protection in that timespan…”

“Why?” She paused in their walk. “Seriously, I’m not made of glass. I know for a fact that Arcee’s not camped out at Jack’s job his whole shift.”

“True.” He made a sighing noise. “Perhaps I am being overly cautious,” He admitted. 

“ Why ?”

“I have seen what your condition can do to you.” He explained. “And Agent Fowler has explained your background. It concerns me that you may be targeted for retaliation by your human family.”

She wanted to be mad. It would be easier to rage at him to mind his own battles. If only he hadn’t been right.

“I’ll be looking into a restraining order from them--which should protect me at work just fine...maybe….”

“Are they well enforced?” 

“No…” She admitted. “Not from what I’ve heard anyway.”

“Then we should take more precautions.”

Lynn stared up the giant, arms crossed. “Optimus, respectfully, there is no ‘we’. This is my problem. I only pulled Agent Fowler into it so I could ensure the kids got out--again, only because proper channels weren’t listening.”

“I do not understand why you’re so resistant to our aid.”

“I’d think that was super obvious.” 

He considered it, blue optics roaming the ceiling. Lynn remembered reading an article about body language, focused solely around the eyes. Eyes to the left was a recalling position, while to the right was more for envisioning. His optics were tracking back and forth, turning the matter over in his...mind? 

“I cannot say for certain,” He began. “But I would hope it is not because of our species.”

“No.” Lynn sighed. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, the height thing does bother me at times--but that’s a mental tic thing. Like...I half expect you to step on me.”

His smile was mildly amused, but didn’t last long. “I will watch my step.”

“Appreciated.” She tried to return the smile, though it was an effort. 

“If it is not that, or our war,” He rumbled gently. “Then I must conclude that you simply do not trust us.”

“Nailed it.” Lynn nodded. 

“Have we done something to cause you to mistrust us?” 

Now it was her turn to mull over. Aside from insisting that she be under their protection, they’d been nothing but nice. A bit snippy in Ratchet’s case, but she liked the snark. It felt...human. Which was likely the core of it.

“Optimus,” Lynn sighed. “I’ll level with you. It’s less to do with you, and more to do with me. I don’t like trusting people. I don’t make a habit of doing it. The last set of people I trusted took years to earn that.”

“Hmm…” He gave off one of those odd sighing sounds. “I suppose when your protective services fail you as they have, trust is not something you would have much of.”

“It doesn’t help that it’s all you’ve asked of me since I got here. And I mean, government grade secrets, I get it.” She put her hands up. “But the ferrying me around? The need to know my every move? It’s...it’s too close to what I lived with before. Where things…” She trailed off, feeling herself tremble a bit. She could smell the menthol cigarette smoke in the air, feel the humidity clinging to her skin, while the Texas summer beat down with it’s fury. Then the screaming.

Instinctively, Lynn reached her hands out to brush Optimus’s leg. The cool metal against her fingertips grounded her, letting her breath in deeply. The air was cool and dry, with the smell of mechanical oil, and dust. 

“Are you alright?” Optimus asked. His voice was deep, but so kind and soft. Lynn could picture him talking down a frightened kitten back into sleep. She half wondered if that’s what she looked like to him.

“Yeah…” She breathed. “Sorry. Still...working on that.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

Lynn nodded, pulling her hand back. Another deep breath had her back to something resembling stability. Now to just sleep the rest of it off before work on Monday.

“Short version is,” She picked up the conversation.  “I need a therapist for what it did to me. And it’s going to take time for me to be okay with you beyond just....being a protectee.”

Optimus gave a short, affirming nod. “Understood. We will do my best to keep our interference with your level to a minimum.”

She wasn’t sure why, but looking up at the leader of the Autobots, Lynn got the funny feeling that he was lying. Or that he suspected that it would be too frequent to make any actual difference. She sincerely hoped she was wrong.

Chapter Text

It took some wiggling around of schedules, but a tentative schedule was formed. Of course, any Decepticon activity would automatically roll their plans over to Agent Fowler’s people to ferry them to school and work. It was a weird thought, knowing that instead of driving the kids and their weird librarian to school, they’d be fighting a war. Lynn tried not to dwell too deeply on that. 

The end result was that Bumblebee would pick her up before getting Raf. That way, if Raf was seen, it would look like the nice Librarian was driving. That and Raf didn’t mind being at school early. Arcee offered, but Lynn shot it down. For one, Arcee’s bike mode wouldn’t fit any books or supplies that Lynn would have to lug. For another, Lynn had zero desire to get into the ethics of a student and a teacher riding a motorcycle together. Miko was the obvious choice, but Lynn could tell she didn’t really care for the idea as a regular thing. 

“Just make sure to have your mom sign that permission slip for me,” Lynn added, printing out the form at base. School’s love their paperwork. Not that she blamed them. Covering bases was always a good idea.

“Oooh,” Miko’s eyes lit up as she looked over the screen. “So you can access all of the school through here?”

“Eh.” Lynn tipped her hand. “More like I can look but not touch if it isn’t Library related. So, no, I can’t change detention or grades.”

“Boo.” Miko mock grumbled. “Guess I’ll just have to keep ducking.”

“Miko!” Bulkhead chastised.

“Kidding!”

They resumed the tour, giving Lynn a full layout for the base. They each had rooms they called Habsuites, with a metal slab and a cramped desk, and some shelving. They were as cookiecutter in design as the dorm rooms Lynn had lived in. But the little decor she could glimpse from the three guardian’s quick show made a surprising difference. 

Posters of rock bands, old monster movies, human sized drawings, and photos pinned to the walls, and a giant ball made of scrap metal at the base Bulkhead’s metal slab spoke plenty about him. The drawings were in Miko’s hand, while the photos were probably taken from her phone. One of them stuck out, being a shot of Bulkhead standing with another old bot. 

Arcee’s was fastidiously neat and showed more of the cookiecutter edges than the others. But her touches were there. Several polishing rags on the desk, a few photos with the kids on the wall. Simple, but tasteful.

Bumblebee had apparently taken to collecting remote control cars with Raf. They lined his shelves in neat, but dynamic rows, the human sized controls hanging just beneath them. He had some old movie posters too. Notably the Breakfast club, and Back to the Future.

They didn’t peek into the other taken habsuites. Everyone was too conscious of Optimus Prime’s personal space, and although Miko suggested pranking Ratchet, was quickly outvoted. 

By the end of the tour Lynn was feeling the lack of sleep and the interrupted nap fiercely. While the kids broke into the mini fridge for sodas and snacks to go with their round of racing games on the TV, Lynn found a spare deflated beanbag and collapsed into it.

“You alright?” Ratchet called from his workstation. He was working out some bugs on their groundbridge. The medic had been grumbling to Optimus and Raf that it had placed the team slightly to the left of where he’d wanted. It sounded a little anal retentive to rework the whole thing, but he’d made a point about being a bit off could lead to more troubling jumps...ones that were miles off in a moment of crises. 

 He wasn’t looking at her while he worked, which was somewhat of a relief. The nonchalance was weirdly reassuring in a way she couldn’t quantify at the moment.

“Just tired.” Mostly true.

“I recommend you get a proper 8 hours of sleep tonight.” He replied, optics still on his work.

“Sure thing.” Lynn bit back her irritation as best she could. 

He looked up at her then, and scowled. “I’m serious.”

“I thought you were Ratchet.” She deadpanned. Not her best comeback. But dammit, she was tired. And other alternatives were decidedly not kid friendly.

It won her a sharp, disapproving expression she would have never believed a robot capable of making. Maybe that was what got her. For as much as the Autobots were the opposite of humans--Tech based, with the ability to change into vehicles, and alien--they were so very similar. The depth of expression, range of personalities, complexities of emotion, and their very war that had led them here. All of it was so very close to humanity, it was almost uncomfortable. Down to a civil war. Though, she had to wonder what started one so large in scale that it destroyed an entire planet.

Lynn sat up, struck by a thought. “Hey, Ratchet?” 

“What?” He squinted at her, irritated and suspicious.

“Do you have any historical books--or texts? About Cybertron, I mean.”

The medic’s expression mellowed into thoughtfulness. “A few. Most are written in Neocybex, some in more ancient Cybertronian. Neither of which you can read.” 

“Guessing neither of those is available with Google Translates.” Jack piped in.

“No.” Ratchet rolled his eyes. “Your primitive search engine isn’t versed in Cybertronian languages.”

“Shame.” Lynn sighed, sinking further into the beanbag. “I’d have liked to read them.”

Ratchet frowned at her. “You could. If you were willing to study the language.” 

That gave her pause. “Beg pardon?”

“Hold it.” Miko put her hands up. “You’re okay with teaching her, but anytime I ask Bulk about it, I get shot down?”

“That’s because you’re asking him to teach you profanity.” Ratchet scowled. “Chambers is asking to read books.”

“Are you sure?” Lynn asked. “I don’t know how well it’ll go…”

“I’ll get you the materials and let you sort it out.” He paused. “Under a condition.”

“I won’t teach students how to swear in Cybertronian.” 

Ratchet smiled a little. “Two conditions then. The other being you get a full 8 hours of sleep.”

Lynn chortled. “Fine.”

“I mean it.” He pointed a sharp index digit towards her. “You’re a human.
Not getting the proper amount of rest is detrimental to your health.”

“Understood.” She mimicked Optimus’s calm tone. It had a fascinating effect on the medic. He made an expression that Lynn had seen somewhere, but couldn’t properly place. A faraway look in his optics, his hands falling idle at his sides. 

“You okay?” She asked, in spite of herself. She didn’t like the sadness reflected on his face.

“Hmm? Fine.” He dismissed it with a wave of a hand. “I’ll get you those materials.”

“Weird.” Jack frowned, watching him go. “He seems...sad.”

“Chambers did just ask him for what history we have, plus our language, which we haven't used in….Half a Vorn?” Arcee frowned. “It’s bound to hit a nerve.”

“She didn’t mean anything by it!” Raf spoke up.

“Doesn’t make it not hurt, Raf.” Lynn sighed. “Just makes it hurt different.”

“I wouldn’t let it worry you,” Arcee counseled. “He agreed to it.”

“Right.” Lynn nodded, sinking back into the beanbag. She could only hope Arcee was right.

Lynn more or less passed out after Bee dropped her off. She’d just remember to lock the door and kick off her shoes before crashing into her bed. When she woke up, she just hoped she’d gotten the 8 hours Ratchet had harped about. She couldn’t remember when she’d made it home, so it was all in the air.

Still, she at her breakfast, made a decidedly smaller pot of coffee, and was dressed by the time Jack knocked.

“You really should keep your phone charged,” He pointed out. “No one can get a hold of  you with it dead.”

She didn’t tell him that was the point. She just shrugged, took her travel mug, and plodded downstairs. Ratchet was here to pick her up today, sounding rather moody about it.

“You need to keep your line open for communication.” He complained.

“You heard Fowler,” Lynn yawned. “I can’t block the people draining my battery life with their nonstop texts and calls. And therefore, I don’t even look at it.”

Ratchet sighed. “Then why didn’t you request an additional phone?”
“Wasn’t aware I could.” Partially true. The thought had crossed her mind. But the hope that it would be under control swiftly had kept her from asking. The frustrated sigh from the medic was amusing, but strange with how fully the sound filled up his cab.

“I’m aware you haven’t known us for long, Chambers,” he began. “But you can at least consider leaning on us for help.”

“I really don’t get where you and Optimus get off on assuming I’m going to put the same kind of trust into you that the kids do. Like you said, I don’t actually know you.”

There was a jolt, as Ratchet braked hard at a yellow light. It took another two seconds for the red light to show. Lynn scowled down at the cab, unsure of exactly how aware he was of what was happening within.

“I read the reports.” Ratchet’s voice caught her by surprise. “The ones written by the CPS caseworkers.”

“You’re a walking HIPAA Violation.” She complained.

“And you’re a stubborn human.” He retorted. “But...You’re…” He trailed off.

“What?” Lynn pressed. “I’m what? Annoying? Frustrating? A pain in your tailpipe?”

The light turned green. Ratchet slid ahead, passing a car that looked suspiciously like Vincent’s. Lynn was a little irritated that it was him who was still out and about while some other kid got caught racing. Maybe it was just the full explanation of Jack’s racing career and Vincent’s part in it that irritated Lynn. It only fueled her concern about Sierra too. 

“You remind me of a friend,” Ratchet’s voice cut into her thoughts. “A friend I wasn’t able to help.”

“Ah.” Lynn studied the dusty downtown signs. “So helping me gives you some closure.”

“Perhaps.” He mused. “I would like to think it's’ more that as a medical professional, I have a duty of care. And from what I’ve observed and read, you haven’t had much.”

“I’m not a pet, or a kid,” She argued. “And I’m not even arguing against ever taking your help. I’m working with you right now. Not trying to flee town or anything crazy.” The idea had crossed her mind. The idea of throwing it all back into her too few boxes and fleeing in the dead of night. Wouldn’t be the first time. 

Except this time she had no car, and no one in Nevada. There were no friend’s couches to crash on, or relative of a friend willing to hide her for a while. Hitchhiking would have been a serious risk too. And then, assuming she even had the best case scenario outcome in running, Lynn had to concede defeat to their groundbridge. They could be in Tokyo having a visit with Miko’s family in the span of seconds. Following Lynn across the earth wouldn’t be a challenge.

“But,” She pressed on, ignoring her lack of an exit plan “If you’ve read those files, then you’ll have an idea just how very much the idea of being held at the whims and mercies of other people bugs me.”

“Indeed…” He admitted.

“Just...give me time.” Lynn sighed. “That’s more valuable than any other kind of assistance you could give me right now.”

“Alright.”

Chapter Text

Sunday was a surprisingly quiet day. The kids spent most of their time out 'paroling' with their guardians. Or as Ratchet called it, 'Joyriding'. Lynn was inclined to agree. Though she didn't say it. Instead she spent her time going over Neocybex’s alphabet, along with a short list of words and phrases for her to work through and decipher on her own as homework. It was a trial to say their sounds aloud as she identified them. It hadn't exactly been made for organics in mind, though according to Ratchet, it was much better suited to her speech patterns than Ancient Cybertronian had been. So the Librarian mimicked the sounds as she struggled to decode her vocabulary words. She was still at it when Fowler dropped by with her new phone.

"If you're still unsure about the bots, that's fine," he sighed. "But I can't help you if you don't tell me how."

"Sorry, Agent Fowler," Lynn took the new, and frighteningly expensive phone. "I'll work on that."

He gave a brief nod before heading back to his chopper.

"Do you actually intend to do so?" Ratchet asked, a metallic eye ridge raised. 

"Not likely." 

The medic gave one of his grumbles. Lynn smiled a little, in spite of herself. A grumpy alien. Who knew?

She set up her new phone, glad Agent Fowler had included a case. And then she went back to her work. The kids and their guardians trickled in bit by bit to join her in the living area. They were all enthusiasm and laughter, clearly enjoying their weekend. They'd all gone their separate ways through the desert. Miko and Bulkhead to do some offroading, Arcee and Jack to cruise the long winding backroads, and Bumblebee and Raf parking to share a few rounds of a game. Lynn wanted to be happy for them. Clearly they were all happy. But it all felt so tenuous and delicate. Maybe once she got her hands on the historical texts, she'd be able to understand the situation more. She could be ready for whatever this intergalactic war was going to bring.

She redoubled her efforts on the sounds and words. It won her a chuckled from Bulkhead.

"And here I thought I was the bolts for brains."

"You try learning a new language without downloading it," Lynn suggested, holding up her work. "Maybe then my homework won't look so dumb."

Miko had laughed at that. "Adult homework?"

“It’s pretty normal.” Lynn shrugged. “Lots of adults go to college, or other schools. Law school, Medical school,”

“Pass!” The teen snorted. “When I graduate, I want to do something cool! Like start a real band. Ooh! And Visit Cybertron!”

Lynn stared at the foreign symbols, willing herself to focus on her work. She couldn’t fault them. They were kids with families who loved them. They’d get the support they needed to find themselves.

Bumblebee chirped a question.

“Me?” Raf smiled. “I think I’d like to work on Video Games. How about you Jack?”

She could see the oldest teen flinch. “I don't know...When I was a little kid I used to want to be an astronaut...but…” 

“You’re a decent mechanic,” Arcee put in.

He glanced at Lynn, looking for a change of subject. “Miss Chambers. How did you decide to become a Librarian?”

Lynn frowned. “It’s not much of a story.”

“Then why are you trying to dodge the question?” Arcee raised an optic ridge.

“Maybe I don’t want to go into it.” 

“Right,” The motorbike rolled her optics. “I forgot. You don’t trust us.”

“Arcee…” Ratchet’s tone was oddly taut. 

“No, it’s fine.” Lynn held her hands up, shooting a sour look at the blue femme. “I’m the oldest of five siblings. Out of us, I was the one doing all the cooking, the laundry, the housework, the homework, and making sure we all stayed alive. After a fight with my mom and her boyfriend, they kicked me out of the house.”

Arcee stiffened, Bumblebee shifting to stand closer to Raf, a look of confusion on his face. The kids straightened up from whatever they were doing. Raf traded a look with his guardian, but neither spoke. Ratchet scowled, but only crossed his arms. 

“So I walked through downtown, looking for somewhere with a phone I could borrow or a safe place I could stay until they calmed down. I ended up at the library. I stayed there for six hours, until they closed, before asking to call home. They all heard my mom cuss me out, and tell me I could come home if I survived the night. So I went home with the head librarian--a total stranger--and was treated like a normal person for the first time in my thirteen years of life.” 

Ratchet made a noise that sounded like choking. Eyes and optics alike flicked to him, but he waved them off, turning back to the monitor. Gazes turned back to Lynn, some more reluctant than others.

“After that, I went by the library daily. They helped me plan my college, and my exit strategy for when I graduated.” Lynn stared Arcee down. “I became a Librarian because I had to become something to feed myself, and hopefully my siblings. So yeah...It’s not exactly the stuff hopes and dreams are made of.”

“I’m sorry…” The blue Autotbot’s voice was low and remorseful. 

“You should be.” Lynn gathered up her materials. “I don’t go asking you about your war experience.”

“Arcee didn’t mean it like that,” Jack put in on his guardians behalf.

“Didn’t she?”

“Lynn…” Ratchet’s voice turned chastising.

“It’s fine.” Lynn held her hands up. “It was time I went home anyway.”

The ambulance sighed, but transformed for her. Lynn slid down the ladder, hauling her booksack with her. 

“Was that really necessary?” Ratchet grumbled as he drove towards base exit.

“She’s a big bot,” Lynn rolled her eyes. “She can handle it.”

“It’s not Arcee that worries me.”

“The kids have good families.” Lynn shrugged. “As awful of a story as it is to them, that’s all it is; a story.”

“You make it sound like you hate your job…”

“I don’t.” Lynn rebuffed, sinking into the seat. “But just because I like my job, doesn’t mean there weren’t other options I’d have liked to explore.”

Neither bot nor human spoke through the rest of the drive.

Walking into School on Monday felt like a waking up from a weird fever dream. Running into Mrs. Dodds inside Lynn found herself half wondering if she had in fact made it al up. She was stressed. She had gone through enough meltdowns to believe her brain could make things up. But the new phone in her pocket and her notebook of Alien writing were reminders that it was all too real. That, and the ride from Raf and Bumblebee.

They'd seemed a bit subdued about the ride up unitl Lynn spoke her first bit of Neocybex. It was a simple "Yes", but it was the first word she'd managed to get her mouth around. That won great approval from the Camero. That in turn cheered Raf up. Two small victories.

Still, having a normal human school librarian warmly welcoming her felt like a relief after a scifi weekend from hell. 

“Well,” Mrs. Dodds smiled. “I’m happy they’ve got someone with youth to spare these kids. They’re troublemakers.”

“What else are they supposed to do around here?” Lynn complained. “I love books as much as the next Librarian, but even I know not all kids are into them. And there’s more opportunity for trouble than constructive hobbies.”

The older woman’s smile curved into a sly grin. “Oh they got lucky with you,” She chortled. “I think you’re going to be a fine replacement.”

“Got any pointers?” Lynn asked.

“A few.” She admitted. “Don’t let them know you can hear them. Have the whole student body convinced I’m deaf.”

“I thought that might be the case,” The younger librarian admitted.

“Next,” The Librarian went on. “Don’t expect the principal to help you with student behavior, unless it's life shattering. He’s too busy helping his secretary, if you catch my drift.”

“Yeah..” Lynn sighed. “I got it.”

“Thirdly,” Mrs. Dodds put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t burn yourself out by trying to be their sole support. Do what you can, but do not break yourself trying to do more.”

“Huh?” Lynn blinked.

“I’ve seen enough students and youngfolk to know your type.” Mrs. Dodds smiled kindly. “You see all the problems and try and tackle as many of them as you think you can. But you can’t be everything a student needs. All you can be is a good librarian.”

Lynn shifted uncomfortably. “And...what’s a good librarian?”

“You. You with some healthy boundaries.” The older woman squeezed her shoulder. “When I first started as a librarian, I thought I had to fill in all the gaps. Parent, teacher, hip adult. But I couldn’t be the end all be all for my students. It takes a community. If you do your part, then you’ll have done enough by them and yourself.”

“That….seems simple enough…”

“It takes practice.” Mrs. Dodds sighed, releasing her grip. “I didn’t get it down for years. Well. Years and a therapist.”

“Noted.” 

“Other than that, I can’t tell you much. From what Raf says, you’re already doing a great job.” 

Lynn smiled. “He’s a good kid.”

“That he is.” Mrs. Dodds agreed. “Now. What say I get you caught up on each teacher over those ‘goodbye cupcakes’, hmm?”

By the end of the day Lynn knew more about every student, teacher, and anyone connected to them than she’d ever wanted. She could comfortably fill out a book about what went on in Jasper Nevada, based solely on what Mrs. Dodds knew. Between Vincent’s older brother becoming a big shot influencer in LA, the Principal and his secretary, and the Vice Principal who headed up the larger racing scene that the teens weren’t invited to, it was no wonder no one noticed anything about a giant alien robot civil war taking place in their backyard. Everyone was too busy getting into messes and trying to avoid consequences.

“And now it’s all yours,” Mrs. Dodds smiled. “I’m going to go see those grandkids of mine and spoil `em rotten before I go see some of the world.”

“Have fun, Mrs. Dodds.”

“Of course dear. Remember; You can only do what you can only do. Oh! And before I forget,” She passed her a little key. “If the Principal gives you a hard time about anything, you have what you need in the liquor cabinet.”

“The what ?”

“Ta, ta, dear!” Mrs. Dodds waved, slipping into her old car and taking off.

“I…hope that was a joke...” Lynn shook her head, holding up the key. “Guess I better find out what this is for.”

The arrival of an ambulance stole any chance for her to investigate. Ratchet was on time, and guessing from his sharp horn blasting, surly about it.

“What crawled up your crankcase?” Lynn asked, sliding in.

“Maybe it’s that I had to stop work to ferry you back to base.” The medic groused.

“That’s just the consequences of not letting me deal with the schedule my way.” Lynn tried and failed to hide the triumphant smile. “If it’s any consolation, I’m just as pissed about it as you are.”

The medic made that sighing sound. Lynn really did wonder what was the point of it. Was it a tic they’d picked up from Fowler and the kids? An attempt to appear more human? Surely they didn’t need actual air….

“I’m not angry with you,” Ratchet corrected. “I simply dislike the disruption to my work.”

“Fair enough.” Lynn mused, watching as the town rolled by. “Don’t suppose you’re okay with listening to me butchering my vocab words?”

“I did agree to teach you.” The medic hummed. 

Lynn opened her work bag and pulled out her notebook. The ride was pleasant as Lynn stumbled through basic words with Ratchet correcting her. Ratchet quizzed her back with a short list of words. ‘Yes’ , which was a mixture of affirmative, acknowledged, sureness, reaching an agreement, or even an encouragement based on tone. ‘No’ , which had a similar mixed meaning of negative, refusal, denying, or in extreme cases a form of accusing of a negative. The other two were flat phrases that weren’t too likely to be misunderstood, even with her organic accent. ‘ My designation is ’ , and ‘ I am part of Team Prime ’, were the main phrases Ratchet insisted would be useful.

“I’m not actually though,” Lynn clarified. “A member of Team Prime. I’m not an Autobot.”

“True,” The medic agreed, as they took the main road out of Jasper Proper and headed towards the desert. “But you are our ally, and under our protection. Using that phrase to any Cybertronian would automatically heighten your chances of survival.”

“Even with a Decepticon?”

“ Especially with a Decepticon.” He corrected. “Decepticons are not known for their mercy. They would see you as a dispensable organic lifeform. Stating your membership on Team Prime places you as potential leverage--something that no Decepticon would willingly give up.”

“Good thing I won’t be seeing any Decepticons anymore.” Lynn rebuffed, acid dripping from her words. “Because that’s the whole point of the arrangement.”

“True, you are unlikely to come into contact with Decepticons living your normal life. However, the phrase could be useful when dealing with an unknown Cybertronian, or an Autobot. Most have at least some respect for Optimus, and any Autobot would automatically understand you as an ally.”

“Just without nuance.” Lynn sighed.

“If it’s required, it can be clarified later.” The medic pulled off the road, heading towards the silo. “It’s not meant to trap you with words, Chambers. Merely to arm you in the worst possible case scenario.”

“I get it.” The Librarian huffed. “But if that’s on my required things to know, I do want the curses too.”

“It was always on the list.” The medic chuckled.

They pulled into base, with Ratchet driving up to the Groundbridge controls. Lynn reclaimed her work bag and hopped out, letting the medic retake his bipedal form.

“It’s too bad you can't ride with Raf back to base.” Miko commented. “You’re stuck for a whole another half hour.”

“Eh.” Lynn responded, climbing up the ladder. “At least I get paid.” She reached into her pack, pulling out Raf’s Library Card. “And lucky for you, I know where to find you.” 

“Thanks,” The boy smiled. “I guess I forgot it when I brought the cupcakes.”

“Which were fantastic, by the way.” Lynn added. “You made Mrs. Dodds last day something sweet for her.”

“I’m going to miss her,” Raf admitted. “But we got lucky to get you.”

“Thanks, Raf.” Lynn smiled warmly. “Despite some misgivings, I think Jasper has it’s good points.”

“Eh.” Miko frowned. “Mostly just the bots.”

“You came from Tokyo,” Lynn pointed out wryly. “Of course this place is a downgrade.” 

“Where are you from originally?” Raf asked, putting his school books and homework away.

“Texas.” 

Bumblebee trilled out in his weird voice, making an overhead swinging motion with his right arm. Raf laughed.

“Bee asked if you rode horses.” The young teen translated.

“Only a few times, when I was a kid,” Lynn chuckled. “I got to take a few lessons through a school program. I wasn’t a rodeo kid like a lot of others in my school.”

The yellow bot gave an exaggerated shoulder drop, followed by more of his unusual beeping.

“Bumblebee’s a big fan of Cowboys,” Raf explained. 

“I guess being in the Nevada desert does feel like a western.” Lynn chuckled. Her eyes scanned the room. “I thought Jack was off work today?”

“He getting his camping gear together  to go on a scouting mission with Arcee this weekend.” Miko groaned. 

Lynn turned to Ratchet, her blood already starting to boil. “Scouting mission?” The anger was clear, despite her effort to cool it.

The medic met her searing gaze with a steady one. “We picked up a signal of a subterranean energon deposit. It’s a perfectly routine recon. Just requires a great deal of hiking through dense woodlands, which is a tricky thing with the groundbridge.”

“ Reeeeeeelax .” Miko rolled her eyes. “The most trouble Jack’s likely run into is a bunch of bugs.”

Lynn squinted at Ratchet. “Is this... normal ?”

“Most missions are too dangerous for you humans,” He admitted. “But basic Recon missions and patrols are rarely exciting, much less dangerous. They’re no risk.”

Lynn took a deep breath and willed her muscles to relax. It was an effort. And the looks from Raf and Miko weren’t helping. She couldn't lose her temper again. The first time was bad enough.

“I’m going for a walk.” She decided, heading towards the inner workings of the base.

“‘Yes.’” Ratchet responded. The tone was somewhere between acknowledgment and encouragement.

Lynn wished he’d started teaching with the curse words. Instead she was forced to walk away with not reply safe enough to convey her seething rage to the Autobot audials. 

Chapter Text

The walk didn’t do much to wash away the seething anger in her bones. But Lynn kept a lid on it when Ratchet drove her home. She was able to bury it somewhat by the time Bee and Raf showed up to take her to school.

That was all she was able to do for the week. Bury it. As the students doubled down on their efforts to steal books, she buried her dismay. They had changed tactics, trying a blitz of bodies, which were then stonewalled by Lynn’s overly cheerful dispersal of workshop flyers. A few students posted videos and photos of them burning those online. 

While Jack checked out camping and survival guides, she buried the fear and anger gnawing at her gut. He was enthusiastic about the trip. Apparently he hadn’t been on a camping trip since he was eight, so of course he was excited to go. Except this wasn’t a camping trip. It was a scouting mission, and no matter how competent Arcee was, or how prepared Jack claimed to be, with his kit of tools, Lynn couldn’t shake that sense of dread. But talking to him hadn’t done much to curb his enthusiasm. It just earned her promises of his safety. The promise of a single teenager among metal alien soldiers seemed too optimistic.

When Vince decided to make himself a nuisance by unshelving a whole aisle of books, Lynn buried the frustration. It was clear he’d taken some kind of issue with the librarian, though what it was and why were still unknown. She just reported each incident, with less and less hope for any resolution each time. Watching his brother’s content online was enough of a clue--there were even a few where Vince cameoed in during the holidays. They were reckless. Racing around rich LA neighborhoods on various vehicles, lighting things on fire in an opulent mansion for the sheer hell of it, and renting a boat which they then proceeded to demolish on the water. He needed help, and Lynn wasn’t sure she had it in her to be of any help, much less how to do so. It was a little easier to swallow Mrs. Dodd’s advice with him. Lynn was limited, and she doubted he would want or accept anything she could offer him. 

When her original phone kept buzzing with threats and warnings, she buried the terror that turned her veins to ice, and made her footsteps between buildings and vehicles hurried. She had to ignore the words calling her a traitorous bitch, a homewrecking whore, and an ingrate. The promises that no one would find her body, the images of the guns being cleaned and laid out over the table, the buckets of ammo. It was so tempting to just take a hammer to the thing.

Instead Lynn focused on learning Neocybex, trying to channel her stream of emotions into something productive. It was what she’d done at home. Bury herself in the work. Meal prep, dusting, vacuuming, mopping, laundry, dishes, helping the kids with homework and life problems, High school, college, and her mother’s awful life choices. All the anger, fear, and anxiety were put into doing something that would serve her in the future.

There were a few times when Arcee would attempt to speak to her, but the librarian pointedly ignored her. She didn’t have it in her to talk civilly with the femm at the moment. Any acknowledgement would lead to another blow up. And she was trying hard to hold herself together. Any real pause or anything akin to introspection would reveal everything she’d been burying. Ugly rage, pain, bitterness, and frustration. No one needed to see that. No one needed to feel it. The last fight had been bad enough. 

Friday rolled in, with Jack packed up to go on his scouting mission with Arcee. Raf and Miko had taken off with their guardians, leaving Lynn to watch as Ratchet gave them the coordinates. They waved their goodbyes and headed through the groundbridge, leaving a quiet base. If only it had eased the tension, even a little. Rather, it only increased the librarian’s twisting knot of anxiety. 

“They’ll be fine,” The medic promised.

“ Yes .” Lynn twisted the affirmation into hard sarcasm. 

Ratchet raised an eyeridge. “You should’ve been a linguist.”

“Instead I’m part of Team Prime!” 

That earned her a sour glare. “You’re really going to use my language to be catty?”

“Language is just a tool to express concepts and ideas, Ratchet.” Lynn scowled back at him. “The art is in the expressing. And I may have to put up a front with the kids, but they’re not here now. So, sorry , if I’m not exactly a well behaved human!”

“Optimus…” Ratchet pressed a hand to his helm to comm their leader. “Can you take Chambers? I’m trying to monitor Arcee’s readings.”

“I’m not a sparkling in need of care, Ratchet.” Lynn rolled her eyes. “ Rusty fragging Spawn of Unicron .” 

The medic stared openly at her, mouth agape. She felt a little thrill of pleasure at causing him to stop so completely. It was that familiar thrill of finding something so horrible and personally devastating to dig into her mother. That high was short lived as the hurt registered on his faceplate--something she didn’t think he was capable of expressing. Annoyance, impatience, concern, a rare chuckle, but not that.

She regretted it. Ratchet wasn’t like her mother or Shawn. Almost the opposite. He might be cranky and dismissive of her species, but he wasn’t malicious. Hell, he seemed to be the one trying to side with her in this whole mess. Hurting him wasn’t a win on any level. It just left Lynn feeling worse for finding any joy in it.

She opened her mouth to apologize, but Ratchet put a hand up. 

“Just go…” Lynn nodded, took her bag, and went looking for somewhere quiet to beat herself up.

The whole base was quiet without the kids or other bots, leaving her with her choice of hallways. She chose the empty wing. It had been storage, but Ratchet never had much in there for long. He used parts frequently, constantly trying to tinker and make the base and his tools function better. Even when he complained about the tech, he still found a way to use it. And here she was, being an ass to him because she couldn’t shut her brain off from the constant stream of fear and worry. 

Lynn found a corner and sat, her head against her knees. She’d let it all out on the medic, the one she could say she liked. He was short-tempered and didn’t care much for Earth and it’s Primitive tech. But there was something in that she understood. A discontent that wasn’t hard to relate to. And in her own frustration, she’d lashed out. Instead of being that adult she was so fond of pretending she was, she’d taken her problems out on him. And while the answer was obvious, Lynn had no idea how she could apologize without explaining herself--something that she didn't know how to do. At least, not in a way that made much sense. Or let her skim past the deepest depths of the issue. Something that didn’t reach that twisted lump of brokenness.

Opitmus found her. He said nothing for a long moment, but Lynn could feel the waves of disappointment rolling from his frame.

“I screwed up.” She said it flatly. “I was wrong. And I don’t know how to fix it.”

The Prime strode across the room, kneeling into a sitting position. It would have been comical to see him lower himself to her level in any other moment. Shame it was this moment.

“We bear some blame,” Optimus offered, not unkindly. “Though Ratchet taught you a very base comprehension of our language thus far, there are some concepts that are not so easily understood.”

The Prime leaned forward, tone changing into that incredible narrative voice. The kind that could make Lynn forget the world around her as she listened, and took in the imagery he painted with his words alone.

“Long ago, there were two beings of immense power. One, a being who saw life and in it saw beauty and wonder. The other saw it as a blight, and wished only for destruction. Thus was the conflict between Primus, the giver and protector of life, and Unicron, the Destroyer of worlds. Their battle was an endless struggle, until Primus created the Thirteen. They rallied together and were able to defeat Unicorn, exiling him to the far reaches of space.”

“So…” Lynn frowned. “When I...said what I did...It translates to being raised from evil?”

“In a sense.” Optimus nodded. “It’s depth of its meaning is difficult to grasp. But as Cybertronians were the descendants of Primus and The Thirteen, calling one born of Unicron is to not consider them as a member of our species. That you see them as so intrinsically and deeply different to yourself. It is something that many Autobots have said about the Decepticons, though even that is not something I believe warrants it.”

“Aren’t you guys at war though?”

“We are,” Optimus nodded. “But the war did not start out simply because Megatron was evil. It began as an outcry of the oppressed. And when our ruling council did not heed their pleas, they became violent. Their desire for justice and equality twisted into a desire for power and supremacy.” His optics looked down the hallway, as if seeing past them and into the distant and tragic past. 

“War distorts. Some stay out of loyalty to a cause they once believed in. Others, a leader. Others still, for the promise of power they did not have before joining the Decepticons. Others because they have no clear alternative. To lump them all as irredeemably evil is a mistake. We are, thankfully, not defined only in our darkest hours and worst moments. Rather, we are the sum of our lives and deeds. That good, and the bad.”

“Then what’s the difference?” Lynn wondered. “What makes us fall on either side of the line?”

“Our choices.” Optimus turned his gaze back to Lynn. “We are who we chose to be. Perhaps not precisely who we strive to be, but something close to that.”

Lynn sighed, dropping her gaze. “It’s a nice thought. But I...I liked hurting someone. And I didn’t need to know the context to do it and enjoy it. Because it felt good not to be the one being hurt. And that’s so disgusting, I don’t know how to live with myself.”

Optimus considered that for a moment. “When The Thirteen ended their fight with Unicron, they were tainted by his essence. It gave them each a capacity for great evils. They chose to ignore that taint, and through it, allowed darkness to fester. It was that negligence that created further war and strife among them.”

The Prime met Lynn’s eyes with his bright blue optics. “You recognize something within you that has the capacity for harm. You understand why it appeals to you. Now you need only find a better way. To train yourself to make the right choice.”

She sighed. “You make it sound simple. I still...don’t know what to say to Ratchet… That won’t sound as inspiring coming from me as it does from you.”

“Ratchet is much kinder than he lets on,” Optimus smiled. “In truth, I think he is fond of you, Lynn.”

“Yeah, right.” She snorted. “I’m an organic who talks crap, pushes back against his leader, and is just a petty person.”

“An intelligent person, whom--despite her personal misgivings about Cybertronains--has begun learning our language, and stands up for herself, and others.” He countered. “You have excellent qualities, Lynn.”

“That doesn’t change what I said.” She stared down at her hands. “Words have meaning. They carry weight. They’re hard to shake off and heal from.”

“Alone, perhaps.” He set a digit on her shoulder. “But I have found that shared with a friend, their power can be diminished. Ratchet is somewhat of an expert on healing.”

Lynn sighed. “Well...The most that can happen is we never talk again after this…”

“Unlikely.”

“You’re so sure.” She tilted her head up. 

“I am.” He agreed. “When you’re ready, I think he’ll be open to talk.”

Ratchet kept his back to Lynn as she returned to the main hangar. Not that she exactly blamed him, but it did make it harder to keep moving. She forced herself to, climbing the ladder, and trying to find words. She was a Librarian for crying out loud. It should come easy! Instead, she was fighting to hoist herself up the metal side to the platform above. She paused mid rung on the ladder, breath coming too shallow. Her hands were slick with cold sweat, trembling as she forced her body to lean forward. She didn’t trust herself to lean back.

“Chambers?” Ratchet’s voice sounded far away. 

“I….” Her breath was too shallow, and the room was too bright. She dropped her head forward, her curtain of loose hair blocking out some of the overhead illumination. “Can’t breath…”

Ratchet’s hands cupped around her back. “Steady… I’m going to put you on stable ground.”

Lynn nodded, head jerking as she wheezed in air. “Yes…”

Ratchet gripped her carefully, easing her from the tenuous grip she held into his hands. Slowly he moved her to the observation table he used for looking over the other bots. He scanned her body and scowled at the results.

“Take a moment…” He recommended.

She nodded, taking in shallow breaths. It was hard to think past the shaking and the pressure in her chest. She braced herself upright on her palms, trying to keep her head up.

“Here.” Ratchet held a digit to steady her.

Lynn gripped it, the cool metal soothing to her skin. Her breathing slowed into a deeper, steady rhythm. The pain let up breath by breath. She sagged in relief against the hand as she regained herself.

“What I said to you…” Lynn croaked. “Was so wrong…”

“I’ve heard worse,” The medic rolled his optics. “You should hear some of the soldiers I pulled scrap out of. They act like I’m worse than the Decepticon who put them there.”

“Just because you’ve heard worse, doesn’t mean I didn’t say something awful, Ratchet.” The tears rolled from her eyes again. “And there is no excuse for that.”

“Archivists.” The mech sighed, though there was a hint of a smile on his face. “All spark and with just enough processing to make you a pain in the aft.”

Lynn blinked. “I...don’t understand…”

“We’ve got enough enemies already. We don’t need you being you beating yourself up over yelling at a stubborn medic. Or a Doctor who pushes someone past their limit…” 

He looked away for a moment, shame tugging at the corners of his mouth briefly. Her hands twitched against his much larger one.Ratcht looked back, the shame retreating into something more comfortable and familiar.

 “Next time you don’t want to talk, just say so. And you can tell me I’m an aft. Just not in front of the kids.”

His face was that gruff mask, with something kind on the edges. It reminded her so much of home--her first real home. Like Mrs. Judy, the old widow who shushed every noisy person in the stacks before gleefully taking a bag of candy to the quiet children in the reading corners of their section. The snarky quips of John when the Karen’s complained about late fees. Heather’s warm presence. 

Lynn burst into fresh tears. “Thank you…” She sniffed.

He gave off one of those strange, nonsensical sighs he liked to make. “Now, if you’ll return my appendage, I can get back to work.”

She did so, wiping at her eyes.

“And…” He reached over to his workbench. “I think you’re ready for these.” He handed her a small stack of small datapads. “The first two are legends and lore as much as they are history. The rest go in chronological order--though there’s likely to be gaps. These are the...simpler...accounts.”

Lynn nodded, her hand running over the top of the pad. It lit up with a title. The written patterns of the language weren’t wholly dissimilar to the concept of human writing. But their glyphs had different sounds and nuances that human vocabulary lacked. Some sounds their vocaliziers could make were entirely biomechanical noises. Not wholly dissimilar to how Bumblebee communicated, though sometimes far more complicated and layered over other sounds, words, and phrases. Thankfully, this one was as Ratchet suggested: Simple. Perhaps a Sparkling’s first read.

Lynn smiled at the Title, “ Primus and the Thirteen ”. 

"Thank you, Ratchet.”

He waved his hand in a wide dismissive gesture. “Yes, yes. Be sure to rest before you start those. Those fits take up a great deal of energy.”

She smiled at his back. “Alright.” She agreed. “I...want to stay until the others get back anyway.”

“Since you’re going to rest, I have no arguments with that arrangement.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

Chapter Text

Lynn woke from an hour nap, feeling somewhat better. She should really ask Fowler or whoever was in charge of furnishing the base with something a bit kinder to her back. It ruined the 80’s mismatch found in a junkyard vibe, but some things were a little more important than aesthetic. 

Miko and Raf came by to find her in the first chapter of the Primus and the Thirteen. So far, it covered Primus, the progenitor deity of Cybertron, and his chaotic counterpart, Unircron, with allusions to the thirteen to follow. Lynn was a bit stumped by how she was supposed to analyze it. Was it a historical text? Mythology? Religion? Optimus spoke about it in such a reverent tone that it seemed like a mixture. 

“Any good?” Miko asked, eying the pad dubiously.

“Kinda weird,” Lynn admitted. “But that’s alien culture for you.”

Bee spoke up in that series of beeps that Lynn still couldn’t make heads or tails of. Ratchet had described it as a tonal mashing of Neocybex and English, though she wasn’t sure the medic was being serious. Even he’d sounded dubious when attempting to describe it.

“Bee wants to know what’s weird about it.” Raff translated.

“I can’t figure out if it’s allegorical or factual.”

“Factual.” Ratchet called out from his post. “While there are more religious versions of the telling, this is the more straightforward version.”

“And...this can be proven?” Lynn tilted her head. “Because it’s a little fantastical for my brain.”

“How so?” Raff asked.

“Two beings, one of order, one of chaos. It reads like mythology or folklore.”

“Our ‘folklore’ produced a very real race of beings.” Ratchet argued. 

“Then what produced us?” 

“Organic life forms through evolution of species.” The medic stated matter of factly. “You humans are the product of millions of years of change and adaptation.”

“But you expect us to believe Primus created Thirteen beings like him and then from them came the rest of you?” Lynn raised an eyebrow. “I’m not saying it’s not possible, but it really does sound weird coming from that perspective.”

“You should hear about other species,” Bulkhead put in. “One time Jackie and I got stranded on an organic planet where all the aliens were special ordered by slavers. They ended up taking to the planet so well, they had a whole origin story of how they’d been placed there by their gods.”

They all stared openly at the green mech. He shifted uncomfortably, glancing briefly over his shoulder before. 

“What?”

“You really gotta start sharing more of your war stories.” Miko spoke for all of them. 

“There’s an alien slave trade?” Raf added.

“Unfortunately, Raf.” Optimus said as he joined them.

Lynn watched in fascination as everyone stood just a bit straighter when they noticed him. Ratchet shifted back to his post, and Raf and Miko gave him their undivided attention.

“Ratchet,” Optimus called. “Has there been any response from Arcee and Jack?”

“Negative.” The medic studied the screen. “However, considering the density of plant life in the region, I’m not surprised. There’s a lot of ground to cover and little chance to get a comm back to us. Frankly, it was a miracle we even picked up the signal.”

“That’s why it’s a campout, right?” Raff pointed out, glancing at Lynn briefly.

“And you’d probably pick something up if a deception showed, yeah?” Lynn added.

“A groundbridge in this location would set off my sensors,” Ratchet agreed. “And yes. With as many miles as this area goes, making an overnight stay isn’t wholly unexpected. I just wished they’d have checked in by now.”

“Should we start a search party?” Lynn asked, keeping her tone light, though she was only half joking.

“Too soon.” Ratchet shook his head. “I’ve merely picked up your paranoia.”

“Aft.”

"Someone's enjoying her Cybertronian lessons." Bulkhead snorted.

“Hwy, isn’t it getting late?” Lynn glanced down at her phone.

“Yeah…” Raf sighed. “I’d better be getting home.”

“Ugh…” Miko groaned. “You just had to bring up the time.”

“Developing brains need sleep.” The librarian shrugged. 

“Puh-leezee!” Ratchet spat out. “You’re the worst offender when it comes to sleep!”

“I’m a semi functioning adult,” Lynn quipped. “My sleep habits aren’t up for debate right now.”

“On second thought, home sounds better than this.” Miko rolled her eyes. “Just pick me up early?”

“You bet,” Bulkhead chuckled.

Lynn said her goodbyes and watched them go. She was a little relieved to see them gone. It was always unnerving to have them on base when talks of intergalactic war, and government operations were happening. She felt weird being around them on her own. But at least with them gone she wasn’t trying to hold herself together so tightly.

“How far exactly does that Autobot protection go?” She wondered aloud. “Is there ever going to be a day when Fowler’s pulled and they put some John Cena looking guy in here to intimidate us all and microchip us?”

“Your cellphone alone would do the trick.” Ratchet pointed out. “And is subterfuge more effective than threats.”

“Fair.” Lynn lay back on the couch, abandoning her studies. “Just a thought. Don’t want the government popping in on them to cause damage for something they don’t have any real control over.”

“We will see to it they do not suffer for their connection to us,” Optimus promised.

Lynn shut her eyes, trying to remain neutral without further argument. Optimus Prime had that charisma that appealed to people. Authority and power, with an undercurrent of soft strength radiated from him. It was hard to ignore just how very persuasive his voice alone could be. Which made her want to counter with a vicious remark. He hadn’t earned one though. 

“How is your reading?” Optimus asked, changing tack. 

“Slow,” Lynn admitted with a yawn. “Only made it to chapter one. It covers some of your Primus and Unicron.”

“It’s history!” Ratchet called.

“It still reads like a folktale.” Lynn countered, though in good humor. “Are there many religious tones to your history?” 

“As written,” Optimus nodded. “Though I’m sure the events themselves were not as holy as a follower of Primus would lead you to believe. Rather, they are just that--moments in time.”

“Huh.” Lynn sat back on the couch. “I wasn’t sure where you’d go with that.”

“I am curious to hear your thoughts on it.” Prime nodded. 

“Not much so far,” She shrugged. “Again, it reads like a folktale. I can’t tell if it’s just the simplicity of the text that gives it that feeling, or if it’s something inherently baked in.”

“Hard to say,” Optimus titled his head. “Who was the author?”

“The name’s a bit too hard for me,” Lynn admitted, passing Prime the datapad. “I honestly have such a hard time with them.”

“Understandable.” He nodded politely. “You’re quite lucky. This version was penned by Alpha Trion as an early education tool for new sparklings.”

“Alpha Trion?”

“The archivist of Iacon,” Ratchet put in. “He was in charge of the Hall of Records there--not dissimilar to your library.”

“I see,” Lynn took the datapad back thoughtfully. “I get the feeling his library was a bit more stately than mine.”

“Very much so.” The medic confirmed. 

“Your archive is more focused on teaching the young of your species,” Optimus put in kindly. “While the Hall of Records did not have such a narrowed focus. It made finding the stored wisdom sought a bit of a chore.”

Lynn grinned a little at the thought of Optimus Prime trying to find a specific book in a library as massive as the Library of Congress. 

“In any case,” Ratchet cut through that mental image. “You should also sleep. You’re unlikely to be fully recovered.”

“I can manage for a bit longer.” Lynn yawned. “I’d at least like to get to chapter two before I turn in.”

Ratchet groaned, but turned back to his monitors. “Archivists.”

Lynn chuckled, and picked up her datapad and notes.

Lynn woke to find her back with new creaks and complaints, and an equally agitated Fowler. It was still early according to her phone, at a solid 4:45 am. She groaned, but rolled off the couch.

“And you woke her.” Ratchet complained.

Fowler scowled. “You realize that couch is horrible for you, right?”

“Add to my growing list of demands then,” She yawned. “Along with a coffee station.”

“Next time I’ll bring an extra.” He agreed. “But I don’t know about you living here.”

“Just overnighting until they get back from scouting.”

“Ah.” Fowler nodded. “I can respect that. Also, got a temporary restraining order,” He passed her the paper. “You’ll need to talk to a lawyer about the specifics, but I’ve gotten a solid recommendation for one, and funding to pay him.”

“Great.” Lynn unfolded the paper, tracing the words. Maybe it was from her recent delving into Cybertronian, or the stress it brought with it, but her brain failed to register the words. Her eyes slid past the names and dates and stipulations. She refolded it quickly, and stuffed it into her pocket.

“I’m heading back to the office then,” Fowler waved. “I’ll email you the Lawyer’s information. Prime, you keep me posted.”

“Agent Fowler.” Optimus nodded.

Lynn watched him go, and debated if she should attempt to go back to sleep. Her mind was still foggy, but her heart rate was too high. No way she’d be calm enough to go to sleep.

“I’m going to get some food,” She called.

“Will you be alright this early in the morning?” Optimus asked. “I’m sure Bumblebee would be willing to take you.”

“All good, thanks, Optimus.” She waved her keys. “Be back in an hour if the doughnut shop’s busy.”

Predictably the Doughnut Palace was busy. A Saturday morning where parents were trying to placate their children with sugary pastries and savory kolaches, while they got their own fixes of caffeine and sugar. Lynn got a variety box of doughnuts and their largest coffee. Today felt like a day to indulge a little.

She was back within the hour, in time to see Jack and the other kids. He looked overall alright, if clearly tired and worn out. He grimaced at seeing the Librarian.

“Wow. Okay,” Lynn snorted. “I didn’t think KO Burgers and the Doughnut Palace were in that fierce of a competition.”

“They’re not,” The teen rubbed his neck nervously. “But...we did see some interesting stuff in the woods.”

“You both come back in one piece?” 

He nodded.

“Then that’s all I need to know right now.” Lynn bit back that catty part of herself. Jack was the most responsible of the kids, and likely already had an idea of what he should do. As for the bots...Well that conversation could wait until the kids were gone and she wasn’t feeling so vicious. She didn’t need a repeat of yesterday.

“Anyway, hope you guys are hungry,” She passed the box of assorted goodies to Raff and moved back to her study materials. 

“Sweet!” Miko approved, taking a strawberry sprinkle. “So you guys up for a monster movie marathon?”

Lynn gathered up her stuff. “I think I’m going to work on reading, but have fun.” She stopped long enough to take a doughnut for herself before trotting off to find a quiet corner in the base. Her notes were heavy with questions on names for when Ratchet had time for a lesson, and her mind now awake enough to be eager for the next chapter.

The librarian had made it through Primus and the Thirteen, before starting Into a Datapad who’s name she couldn’t even begin to decipher. But it was less folk-loric in its reading, making it far drier despite the contents. Something about diluting war and all it’s atrocities into blank statements and bare facts felt both chilling, and difficult to wrap her mind around. It didn’t help that the title appeared within the text, muddying up her reading. The author’s name was also a mystery, but certainly not Alpha Trion. Not that she needed his name to know that. The styles were too far removed for even her to confuse them.

She’d half made up her mind to take up residence in the storage room again when the sounds of metal against metal caught her ear. Peering inside, she found Arcee throwing scrap targets into the wall. 

It was both incredible to watch the femme flip arcoss the room, nimble as any Olympic gymnast Lynn had ever witnessed, and heartbreaking as she shot at scrapheaps with poorly painted decepticon badges painted on. Something on her faceplate was so strained and familiar. It took Lynn a long moment of careful study as Arcee ran through some fight in her mind.

It hit her as the femme caught sight of her and straightened. The expression turned grim, as if bracing herself for the worst. Lynn winced. She’d caught her own face doing that. Spent days before her big interviews practicing with Heather to keep herself pleasant, and not shut down midway through a tough question.

“Nice moves.” Lynn offered, hoping that sounded friendly enough.

“Here to lecture me?” The femme got straight to the point.

“No.” 

“You were right.” Arcee scowled. “It turned out to be more than just a scouting mission, and I dropped the ball.”

“I said I’m not here to lecture,” The librarian put hand up. 

The femme titled her head. “Why else would you be here?”

“Honestly, just passing through.” 

“Right.” She braced her hands on her hips in disapproval.

“Look,” Lynn set her pack of datapads and personal notes down. “I didn’t come here to fight. I’ve given you all a fair load of scrap. Maybe you don’t deserve it, I don’t know. I know I don’t like relying on Team Prime.” She glanced away, rubbing at the nape of her neck. “But that’s a personal hangup. I don’t even know what happened out there. I’m not sure I’d be calm if I did. But Jack’s okay, from what I can see, so…”

“So?” 

“So unless you’re looking to pick a fight to feel better, or worse, we can just...skip it for now.” Lynn glanced back up.

Arcee heaved a long sigh. “And I thought Miko was unpredictable.”

“Miko’s a force of nature,” The human chuckled. “And a teenager.”

“Aren’t the others too?”

“Jack’s weirdly responsible for his age. If he’d had siblings, I’d have worried he was parent number two. But his mom seems nice enough. And Raf’s still pretty young. Who knows, maybe it’ll hit him harder down the line.” Lynn frowned. “Not that science is my thing, and my understanding of normal development is kinda skewed.”

“At least we have that much in common.” Arcee sighed. “Sometimes I forget how young Bumblebee is.”

“I’d ask, but…” Lynn frowned. “The amount of time you guys live is a little overwhelming. I’m not wholly sure if the Alpha Trion who wrote Primus and the Thirteen is the same one listed in the text itself, or if he’s a namesake.”

“Probably a namesake,” Arcee chuckled. “Could you imagine one of the first humans to still be around that long?”

“Fair.” Lynn agreed. “Anyway...I didn’t mean to interrupt.” 

Arcee glanced at the holes in the scrap piles. “I think I’m done for now.”

“Fair enough.”

“Hey,” The femme called, catching her before she could collect her bag. “Are you free?”

“Pretty much,” The librarian nodded. “I was just looking for somewhere to read, but, I guess I’ve got some time...Why?”

Arcee seemed to hesitate for a moment. Then she nodded, confirming something to herself.

“I want to show you something.” 

Chapter Text

Arcee Led Lynn to the top of the plateau the Silo was hidden under. The sun had finally started to warm the dessert enough to not need a jacket. Lynn wondered if she’d ever get used to how cold the night got out here. She almost asked Arcee how they perceived cold, but found the femme standing next to a pile of rocks, with something metallic resting atop the stock. The question died as she looked at the mournful face.

“I lost my second partner here on Earth,” Arcee murmured, resting a hand on the edge of the stack. “Cliff was like family…” 

That at least cleared up one thought that crossed Lynn’s mind. 

“The war?” She asked, forcing her tone to be even and soft. 

“Decepticons.” Arcee corrected, her tone dark. “What they did to Cliff…I’ll never forgive them for it.”

Lynn nodded, but kept herself quiet. She understood the grief in the Autobot’s voice. It was another one of those moments where she found herself seeing something closer to her own humanity reflected back at herself. It was easier to keep them at arm's length when they were talking about their lives in centuries, space travel, and shifting between car and robot.

“I lost my first partner to a Con named Airachnid. She couldn’t get the information she wanted out of us…” The femme shook her head. “No...She couldn’t break us without killing one of us...And she chose to kill Tailgate instead of me.”

“I’m sorry,” Lynn offered, though it sounded hollow to her own ears. 

“It should have been him.” Arcee stared into the horizon, bitterness creeping into her voice. 

“You deserve to live too, Arcee.” 

The femme looked back, startled. 

“I..” Lynn shuffled underneath her stare. “I don’t claim to understand you or your war or anything. But I know what it feels like to think that it’s better when you take the brunt. It’s not. No one should be taking hits like that. The problem is the person hurting others for their own enjoyment.”

“Did Optimus tell you that?” She sighed.

“No…” She smiled slightly, looking up at the femme. “A Librarian named Judy Moore did.”

“That the same one who took you in that time?” Arcess guessed.

“Among others.” Lynn tucked a strand of her brown hair behind her ear. “But she was right. I know you’re beating yourself up and rehashing the fights you’ve had in your head, but you can’t change them, Arcee. You can only do your best going forward. And I’m sure if your partners were here now, they’d wish it were you instead.”

“Do you wish your siblings were here instead of you?”

“Eh,” Lynn shrugged a little. “I’d like them to be out and set up for success, but I’m not sure I’d be alright with them being so close to soldiers in an intergalactic war. No offense.”

“Right…” Her tone turned sarcastic.

“Also Jasper Nevada is kind of a weird place for kids.” The human added. “I can’t imagine what they’d even have to do around here. No clubs, or woods to explore.”

“You humans and your trees.” Arcee rolled her optics.

“Hey, if you ever get to see those redwoods, you might be singing a different tune.”

“Redwoods?”

“Yeah,” Lynn grinned. “There’s a forest full of massive redwood trees outside of SanFrancisco. Some of them are so big, they cut holes in the middle of them for cars to go through. Which means they’re very old. I bet you might even find one as old as Optimus.”

“You ever been?”

“No.” She admitted, rubbing her arm. “It...it was always a dream of mine. Miss Judy used to show me pictures. I’d kinda hoped I’d be able to get a job close enough to take a day trip to see them but...Well California’s expensive. Really, I got lucky to be here.”

“In Jasper?” Acree raised an eyeridge.

“Far away from the people who hate my guts, with a job willing to take me straight out of college? Yeah, that’s pretty good. And it’s enough for my rent and food.” Lynn glanced back towards the horizon. “And despite some misgivings...I can’t say I hate the stranded aliens.”

“Oh?” There was a chuckle in her voice.

“You guys have decent books.” Lynn shrugged.

“Earth isn’t so bad either.” Arcee mused.

“Yeah?” 

“Apart from the suspicious Librarians.” The femme winked.

“Someone has to balance out Miko’s energy.” She laughed.

“Good point. I just wish you weren’t always right.”

“Then you’re in luck.” Lynn stretched. “I’m just a cynic hoping to be wrong.”

“I’d drink to that.”

“Best not,” Lynn grinned. “Ratchet’s probably going to give you and Jack scrap if you don’t sleep soon.”

“There you go being right again.”

“It’s my curse.”

Arcee turned back to the trap door. “You coming?”

“Later.” Lynn waved. “This looks like a good spot to read.”

It was hours until Lynn was found by Ratchet’s fury. She’d spent the morning reading atop the silo, before retreating below when the heat started picking up. She’d been so invested in deciphering the words she’d ignored the time. 

“You’re supposed to be a fully formed adult!” The medic complained. “But have you eaten like your species is supposed to? Nooooooo. Instead I have to track you down!”

“Sorry,” Lynn winced. “I was kinda engrossed.” She held up the datapad.

Ratchet’s scowl only deepened, followed by scoffing and suspicious muttering. Something about Archivists and sins?

She followed him without comment or complaint. Clearly, he was in a foul mood. She wondered what put him there. Perhaps Arcee’s encounter was worse than Lynn realized. 

The kids, sans Jack, had done a food run, with more of the KO burger meals. Lynn partook, trying to ignore the disapproving glare Ratchet was giving her. She was managing until Miko spoke up.

“What did you say to Arcee to make Ratchet so mad?”

“Nothing.” Lynn glanced back at the medic. 

“ Really ?” Miko pressed.

“I think he’s mad I forgot to eat?”

The scoff was hard to interpret.

“Just spit it out already,” The librarian complained.

“Just eat your food.” He snapped.

Lynn glanced at the other autobots. Both offered shrugs. Well at least she wasn’t alone in that mystification. 

They ate their meal, and thanks to Miko’s enthusiastic recounting of her favorite rock band’s last stage show, were able to ignore Ratchet's foul mood. Lynn was learning quite a bit about Miko’s interests as well. She was, as she told Arcee, a force unto herself. Beneath that force was a fun loving and thrill seeking teenager, determined to live her own life. Lynn couldn’t fault her for that. All things considered, it was admirable. Now if she just had an ounce of caution and forethought to temper that determination and zeal.

“So,” Miko spoke up, downing the last fry. “You finished that book?”

“Primus and the thirteen? Yeah.” Lynn smiled. “I stand by what I said. Heavy Folk lore leanings. But I’ll take it over the one I’m on now.”

“What’s this one about?” Raf asked.

“Great question.” The librarian scowled. “It seems to be about some kind of sinister covert war, but I can’t even figure out who against.”

Bumblebee gave out a series of beeps that sounded like a question.

“What’s the name?” Raf translated.

“Can’t make it out.” Lynn passed the datapad to Bumblebee, Bulkhead peering down over the scout’s shoulder.

“Ugh.” The green mech’s optics narrowed. “Quintessons.”

Bumblebee made another sound, apparently in agreement. 

“What are those?”

“Before my time.” Bulkhead admitted. “But they were responsible for subjugating Cybertron for a while.”

“Pretty intricately according to the prelude.” Lynn nodded. “Though this seems to focus more on the resistance and an elite guard fighting them.”

“So it’s cool bot fights?!” Miko perked up.

“I wish.” The librarian grumbled. “It’s so dry and bland, it makes Kale Chips sound good.”

Both kids blanched.

“How can you make giant alien robots fighting, boring?” Miko complained. 

“I knew a guy in college who could write papers about the most complex and interesting concepts, and put even experts in that field to sleep, or the ones he’d asked for pointers, cry. It was almost impressive.”

“Anything interesting?” Raf asked. “In your book?”

“I mean, I’m learning the most dry, procedural version of reporting…” She held it up thoughtfully. “Don’t suppose you guys could help me figure out the name?” She tapped the Author’s credit.

Bumblebee leaned down to inspect it, only to give out a long whining drone. Bulkhead shook his helm.

“Ultra Magnus? Is Ratchet trying to kill you?”

“He may not be a gifted author,” Optimus Prime’s voice carried into the hanger as he paused to survey them. “But Ultra Magnus carries great wisdom.”

“And the ability to level a whole Decepticon warship.” Bulkhead added. “But even Jackie and I could do better than anything that mech’s written.”

“You totally should!” Miko pressed. “I want to hear all your big matches! Bulkhead and The Wreckers Versus Megatron's Worst Decepticons!”

“That was an exaggeration.” If mechs could blush, he’d be red in the faceplates, Lynn decided.

“It’s not a bad idea.” Lynn interjected. “History books are often written from very limited lenses that usually favor the victor. The ones taught in schools? Those are heavily sanitized. A personal account, even if it overlaps with other narrators who witnessed the same event, is invaluable.”

“What do you mean?” Raff frowned.

“Wouldn’t it just be the same story over and over again?” Miko added.

“A story from a commander’s perspective of a battle is different from a soldier on the ground. The Commander has a big picture in mind, while the soldier has the mission and the fight. The commander can see the whole battle, but the soldier can pick up a hidden detail.” Lynn returned her gaze to Bulkhead. “And considering how widespread this war became, writing down your experiences could be invaluable for future Autobots.”

“Just because it would be better than Magnus, doesn't mean it would be by much.” Bulkhead pointed out.

“While your suggestion has great merit, Lynn,” Optimus put in gently. “Not everyone is so inclined to archival work.”

“Sure,” Lynn picked up the datapad again. “But if you don’t write down what happens, someone will write it for you. And you may not like what they have to say.”

Lynn was taken home by Optimus in the evening. She’d made it through “Quintessons” a few times, though with holes and chunks of unreadable or difficult text that seemed altogether pointless. The overall gist of it was the dry reports of a resistance against an insidious group of aliens called Quintessons. They’d done a great deal of behind the scenes work to attempt to enslave Cybertronians, though much of that was assumed knowledge on the reader’s part. Lynn knew nothing. But the reports did have some sparks of intrigue and fierce drive to become independent again. Magnus might not be engaging as a writer, but Lynn suspected he had his moments as an Autobot.

“It’s weird,” She mused, shutting her translation notes. “I know it’s because I’m reading things pre war--or, pre this war--but there's a lot less faction talk.”

“There were some, even then,” Optimus replied as they took the backroads into Jasper. “Though they were far less stark than the ones we hold now.”

“That tracks.” Lynn sighed. “I don’t suppose a force slowly corrupting your entire species would stay popular with anyone for long. Then again, there’s always someone a bit off, or who thinks they’re the exception…”

“Is it the same among humans?” 

“Basically.” The librarian sighed, counting each stoplight as they passed. “You know what a serial killer is?”

“Yes.” His voice turned grave. “I am sad to say the war has given way to many such mechs.”

“We have them too,” Lynn pointed out. “But there’s a group of people who tend to treat them like beloved public figures. I forget the word for it...Hubristophilia? No…”

“You don’t seem particularly fond of your own kind at times.” Optimus observed.

“It comes with living on Earth.” She quipped. “Especially when you see some of the worst upfront. Tends to make you wary in general.”

Optimus turned into her apartment complex lot. “Perhaps someday you will see humanity the way I do.”

“Maybe.” Lynn gathered her things as he parked. “But I’m currently trying to figure out Cybertronians.”

“That may well take up a lifetime.” The semi commented.

“Well, I’m stuck with you,” She was only half joking. “Might as well nab all your good books.”

“Goodnight, Lynn.” 

“Night, Optimus.” She waved, and headed up to her apartment. Despite herself, she felt good. She’d kept her cool with Arcee. She hadn’t actively done anything to piss off Ratchet. She’d even been able to make her way through several of the works Ratchet had given her. She turned the key, ready to head to her bed and just take tomorrow to herself. Ratchet couldn’t complain, and even if he tried, Lynn was willing to fight for a lazy day of chores at home.

The door swung open. Lynn’s hold on her bag went slack. Something was wrong. She didn’t need to step inside to know. She could smell the menthol and acrid smoke smothering her home. 

She turned, shaking as she forced one foot in front of the other. She needed to make it back to the parking lot. Maybe Optimus was still there. If not, she should be able to get to her own car. 

“And where do you think you’re going, Lynn?” The voice was a deceptive pur, just steps behind her. “Can’t face your Uncle Shawn?”

Lynn bolted. Her heart was hammering in her ears. Her keys slammed between her knuckles, some backwards and clustered two to a slot. It wasn’t enough, as a hand caught her roughly by the arm.

“You fucked up,” His voice was gravel in her ears, hands crushing her arm. “Bit the hand that fed you for all those years…”

Lynn struggled for a moment, pulling towards the stairs. Shawn chuckled darkly, catching her intent.

“Be my guest.” He pushed her towards them.

Lynn mentally braced herself for impact. It was faster than she’d been expecting, and far gentler, if more jarring. Cool metal cradled her for the barest moment. 

Then Lynn was strapped inside the safety of Optimus’s cab. The seatbelt slid into place as Optimus turned out of the parking lot with a squeal of tires, and the smell of burning rubber.

“Ratchet,” Optimus Prime’s voice was steady, but grim. “Contact Agent Fowler.”

“Understood.” Ratchet’s voice pinged back. 

“Thank you…” Lynn managed. She was still shaking, but at least she’d held onto her bag. At least she’d been caught. At least she was alive…

“Lynn,” The Autobot Leader called, forcing her to focus. “I’m taking you to base. You’ll be safe there.”

She wanted to believe him. It should be easy to. Where else would be safer from her mother’s vengeance than in a base full of giant metal alien soldiers? It wasn’t like Shawn could hurt them if he tried. Lynn shut her eyes, trying to shake off the smell of menthol laced smoke on her hoodie. She striped it off, tossing it aside. It helped.

“Can you crack a window?” 

It rolled easily, filling the cab with the cool night air. Lynn laid her head near the glass, taking in the smell of dust and sage. 

“You’re safe.” Optimus repeated. This time, it was much easier to believe.

Chapter Text

Base was a flurry of activity that Lynn couldn’t really focus on. Her mind was fogging up with exhaustion in the aftermath. She didn't hear Optimus giving orders, beyond the sound of his voice. She didn't react to Fowler's shouts over the comms. Instead she numbly lay where ever it was they place her, trying to find something to hold herself to. She was vaguely aware of Ratchet running a scan, followed by a series of curses. Dully, she realized they were in Neocybex. The sounds were harsh and grating to the ear, but not unbearable. Just hard to put her mind to work on to translate.

“Lynn,” Ratchet’s voice was firm. “You are not allowed to regurgitate. You need those nutrients.”

“Sure…” She kept her palms down on the cold metal expanse they called a birth. Anything to ground herself a little.

“Can you talk about it yet?”

“ No .” 

“What do you need?” The medic asked. “I’m not as well versed in organic medicine, but I can get you what you need if you tell me.”

Lynn curled her hands over the metallic surface, trying to remember the things that had helped in the past. Icy water on her palms, The smell of old books and leather, the feel of a friend’s hand. “Something to hold. A hand or something cold, preferably.”

“Bumblebee,” The medic called. “Hold Lynn’s hand for a bit.” 

The younger mech was there in an instant, a digit offered to her. Lynn held it tightly. The metal felt different to the berth somehow. Still cool and soothing, but a bit warmer. Probably due to movement. Lynn found herself pondering that. Would it be offensive to ask Ratchet about it? Probably. Maybe if she made it into the science styled texts he’d give in to explain it a little. Considering how he’d apparently taken over the kid’s science fair projects, he was proud of his ability to show off various facets of his knowledge. The train of thought was at least enough to help steady her heart to something less erratic. 

Bumblebee let out a questioning hum. Yet another day Lynn wished she was like Raf and could understand him. At least she could guess a little.

“You okay?” She asked him, loosening her grip some. Which didn’t make much sense really. Her hand strength was nothing to boast about to an autobot. He probably wasn’t hurt like poor Miss Judy’s had been the first time she gripped the older woman’s arthritic hands in a vice grip. But her brain was too scrambled to really be sure.

“He’s more worried about you,” Ratchet translated, tapping at the groundbridge controls. “As should you.” 

“I’m going to be okay,” Lynn offered, her breathing slowing. “Just….scared.”

Bumblebee spoke again, various beeps and tonal sounds. Lynn closed her eyes and listened. It must not have been a particular sentiment that Ratchet was inclined to translate. Instead the medical officer was hard at work on whatever task included the groundbridge. Lynn could hear the interspace stretch open and close with hisses and whines from the lever.

“How is she?” Arcee’s voice was a surprise to hear.

Bumblebee seemed to agree, his tone a bit alarmed.

“It’s fine,” The femme reasured them. “Jack’s got a cover story for emergencies.”

“Nothing worse than some contusions,” Ratchet replied. “Aside from the panic attack.”

“Bulkhead and Optimus?” She asked.

“Helping Agent Fowler.” Ratchet replied. “They’re trying to track down the attacker.”

“Shawn…” Lynn shuddered. “His name is Shawn Leland.”

“Rest.” Ratchet frowned at her. “You can talk to Fowler when you’re recovered.”

“We’ll find him,” Arcee added, giving a sharp nod. “I’m going to join the search.”

Lynn watched as Arcee transformed, the groundbridge opening ahead of her. It was a swift and fluid shift, like a cat twisting in mid-air. Then her tires were on the pavement and she was shooting through the portal. 

Bumblebee talked some more, though Lynn couldn’t really follow. It was melodic in it’s own way, but infuriatingly unlike her known languages. Bit by bit, her mind and body calmed. Her heart and breathing relaxed, leaving her drained and exhausted, but free of panic.

“Thanks, Bee.” She murmured at a lull in his chatter. “I’m feeling better.”

Ratchet moved back to perform another scan. “Well done. Bumblebee, can you find her a covering?”

Bumblebee replied with a sort of jovial tone.

“Fine. A Blanket .” The medic scowled. “Why on earth would you call it that?”

Lynn smiled a little. “Because it’s Earth.”

Ratchet rolled his optics and groaned. “If you can make jokes, you’re fine.”

She chuckled softly as the medic shuffled back to the controls. Bumblebee gave a short twitterting to her and then headed towards one of the dozen hallways. Lynn lay her head back, focusing on her breathing. She was too tired to do much else. 

She must have dozed, because the next time she opened her eyes, she found all the Autobots standing at attention, eyes trained on Optimus. It was a little eerie to remember that they were soldiers. She’d known that on meeting them, and she’d been the one to complain about being caught up in their war. She’d been studying their past conflicts. Arcee had even spoken about the personal losses. 

Seeing them alongside the kids had somewhat dulled that aspect in her mind. The only missions they discussed taking the kids out on were scouting ones, and the only ones Lynn had seen them do so far. It was easy to think that’s all they did. It wasn’t. They weren’t personal guard aliens. They were fighters. 

“Until Shawn Leland and Carol Chambers are apprehended,” Optimus was saying. “We must take precautions.”

“Such as?” Fowler’s voice was sharp.

“Lynn will remain here at base,” Optimus informed him. “When she is well enough, I will take her to her home and take her things out and move her here.”

“She’s going to love that.” Bulkhead snorted.

“Wouldn’t a safehouse be better?” Arcee asked.

“No.” Ratchet spoke up. “Isolation is bad for humans, and Lynn has enough medical concerns.”

“It’ll also take longer for our friend Leland to show if he can’t track any of her movements.” Fowler added. “But since she works at the school, I can station a man to keep an eye out for her there. Gives her a sense of stability while giving us a safe shot at `em.”

“Still seems risky.” Arcee considered thoughtfully. “No offense to your agents, but this guy broke into her home.”

“Not sure how he pulled that one off,” Fowler agreed. “But the agent I have in mind is a solid guy. If anyone can catch Leland, it’s Burns.”

“Do I get a say in this?” Lynn complained.

“Safehouse or Prime’s Plan.” Fowler offered, shrugging.

“Typical.” She pulled the blanket tighter around herself.

“Were there a way to ensure your safety in your home,” Prime began. “We would not be forced to take such action.”

“Leland did a number on your place,” Fowler added. “It’s not even remotely livable.”

“ Fine .” The Librarian caved, too tired to argue. “But I want a real bed. That couch is terrible, and this metal bed isn’t much better.”

“We’ve got spare habsuites.” Arcee added. “Maybe you can set up in one.”

“Sure.” Lynn sighed.

“It’s only temporary,” Optimus Reassured. “Once your attacker is in custody, you will be able to return to your residence.”

“Make a list of what you want,” Fowler added. “We can pick it up tomorrow if you’re well enough.”

“Sure.” Lynn repeated. 

Ratchet strode over, running another scan. “Highly dependent on your sleeping.” 

“Of course it is.” She replied blandly. “Next it’s going to be my water intake.”

“You drink quite a few liquids.” 

“So I do,” Lynn smiled a little at that. Apparently Ratchet didn’t know how much coffee was considered a healthy amount. Far be it from her to inform him.

She rolled over, yawning. “Fine then. I’ll complain about this tomorrow.”

The Librarian didn’t get much of a chance to make good on her threat. The kids came in Sunday morning bright and early, their guardians filling them in on the night’s events. They’d volunteered to help Lynn and the bots clean out the spare habsuite across from Arcee’s. Once the large Transformer sized furniture was moved out, all it needed was some sweeping and mopping. 

“You should’ve drop kicked him down the stairs!” Miko groaned, hauling in a fresh bucket of soapy water. “Or taken a bat to his face!”

“The bat was inside the apartment,” Lynn grimaced. “And I was more interested in catching Optimus before he left.”

“Good thing he caught you,” Raff offered up a more positive spin.

“True enough.”

“I can’t believe Optimus is letting you hang with the bots full time.” Miko complained.

“Under the circumstances, it was the best option.” Arcee pointed out. “It’s not exactly a vacation.”

“I will be harsh on my AirBnB review.” Lynn joked, pointing her mope handle towards the Femme. Arcee gave a bemused smile, recognizing the lack of malice. 

“Not as harsh as my mom,” Jack sighed. “She found Arcee missing when she went to work this morning.”

“How did you manage to get out of that?” Raff asked.

“Told her the bike was in the shop.” He shrugged. 

“If you need a cover for the money, you can always tell her you were lending me hand moving stuff.” Lynn offered. “It’s half true.”

“Good point.” He nodded. “But, I’d rather not lie to her if I don’t have to. It’s like she can smell them.”

“That’s because you’re a terrible liar.” Miko pointed out.

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

The rest of the group traded glances.

“I mean,” Raff started.

“There’s a time and a place,” Arcee added.

“Government grad secrets.” Lynn settled on the safest retort. 

“ Duh .” Miko rolled her eyes.

“Gee. Thanks.” Jack took the new bucket and plunged his mop into it.

“Everyone has their strengths, Jack.” Arcee pointed out.

“But you should really amp up your sneak game.” Miko nodded.

“I can sneak.” He shot her a look. “I gave Airachnid the slip.”

“That’ll probably only work once.” Lynn let out before she could stop herself. “And as I understand it, Decepticons don’t actually hold humans in any kind of esteem. You try that with a human and you might not be as lucky.”

Arcee made a throat clearing noise. “Not that you’ll need to.”

“Sure.” Jack jerked his mop back out of the bucket, flooding the dust free floor. 

Lynn turned back to her own mop. Better to leave well enough alone there. The silence carried until the whole room had been properly swabbed. Arcee took the dirty buckets, while the humans found the supply closet and tossed their mops into the void.

Agent Fowler and another agent arrived shortly after, a tall cup of coffee in each hand. He passed one to Lynn before taking a long drag on his own. 

“You brought extra?”

“Said I would.” He yawned. “Also, got your new bodyguard with me.” He jabbed his free thumb to the newcomer.

“Agent Burns,” The tall man gave a sharp nod and something suggesting a smile. He was a tall man who looked to Lynn to be the stereotype of what she’d assume a career military man would look like. Built muscle, short cropped hair somewhere between blonde and brown, with hard eyes and a square set jaw.

“Lynn.” The Librarian nodded. 

“I’m taking you shopping to get settled in here?” He asked.

“I guess.” She shrugged. “We cleared out a room. Do you need one?”

“Optimus was pretty clear,” Burns smiled dryly. “I’m just on base to meet you and help you move your stuff today. Otherwise, I’m your work shadow.”

“You’re going to stick out,” Raff grimaced.

“I have a cover.” 

“No one’s going to believe this guy’s a teacher.” Miko snorted.

“I’m a security guard.” He explained.

“How did you swing that with the school?” Lynn wondered, staring at Fowler.

“Made some vague suggestions to the principal about an afterschool racing ring. He seemed perfectly willing to take our request for the security guard along with the added school finds.”

“Don’t suppose you put the stipulation on that bribe that it goes to the library?” Lynn asked hopefully.

“That’d be a little too on the nose.” Burns snorted.

“I can dream.” She sipped at her coffee.

“Dream a little smaller,” He recommended. 

“Alien robots.” 

That got her a smirk. “Alright. You win.”

“Ugh….” Miko groaned. “If you two are gonna flirt-”

“No.” Burns bit out, even as Lynn slipped into Neocybex to deliver her own emphatic “ NO .”

“Let’s just go get some furniture.” The Librarian sighed, downing another long swig of coffee. She was going to need it.

Chapter Text

Picking out furniture with a group of teens and a pair of government agents was surreal. It didn’t help that they’d taken the groundbridge out to a large military facility, where a moving truck was waiting, and a spare vehicle. Though there had been some complaints about the autobots not joining in on the shopping trip, it was clear there wouldn’t be much of a point. They were all exhausted after last night’s fruitless manhunt, followed up by clearing out the Habsuite. And really, parking them outside of the IKEA seemed excessively pointless. 

At any rate, the experience of getting brand new furniture and appliances was novel in and of itself. The kids did a great deal of exploring and recommending. Lynn indulged them as they held up strange oversized plushies, and lamps shaped like sharks. She was too tired to try and focus them in a direction, and the cheerful suggestions of Miko’s punk rock tastes against Raf’s tech choices, and Jack’s frugal picks were an excellent distraction. Even Fowler pitched in a suggestion about a work desk bookshelf combo.

“You’ve got a lot of books.” Was his reasoning.

By the time they left, paying for the new apartment’s worth of furniture and equipment, Lynn had a Uhaul full of new and strange things. The desk and bookshelf combo, along with another five shelving units of varying sizes, a bed frame, mattress, box springs, and bedding with a distinct star motif. There were also more mugs and coffee making amenities than even Lynn had ever dreamed of owning. There was a stipulation that she let Fowler snag an actually good cup of coffee every now and again, but Lynn certainly didn’t mind. Lights, rugs, towels, a minifridge, a rolling chair, a nice couch, dishes, and more were all loaded in and sent back to the base to be taken through the groundbridge and be unloaded.

Then came the computer shopping. Here, Lynn deferred to Raff, as did the staff at the computer store he’d chosen. One of the newer employees had come to offer help, only to stay for the teen’s explanation of Lynn’s options for a desktop. With the budget being nigh on limitless, Lynn let him pick out what he thought would be fun to put together. She added a simple laptop to work off of while the monster of a desktop PC project was going to be one of Raf’s side projects. He wasn’t likely to get a chance to build so freely in the future.

Finally it was on to food and groceries. That was a solid divide and conquer that had the crew of six in and out in less than thirty minutes. Even Burns looked impressed by the efficient rundown.

By the time they were unloading back at base, Lynn could feel her energy reserves starting to fail her. Thankfully the most pressing pieces of furniture had been assembled-- though the more complex pieces were still lying out, with sticky notes of surrender on the instructions. Those could be dealt with later.

Lynn ended up sleeping for another four hours. By that time, Raf was storing what he’d worked on for the overpowered PC, while Jack and Miko were heading home. Lynn saw them off with a fond smile and wave, and forced herself to eat something. She didn’t need Ratchet on her ass about it.

The rest of it she spent re-reading Ultra Magnus’s work. Somehow, the dryness of a long ago war was comforting in comparison to the fear that threatened to creep up her spine if she let her mind rest too long. She mentally added the idea of a government sanctioned therapist to the ‘requests for Fowler’ list. She half wondered where her limits were with it, and just how useful that request would actually be. Cheaper and able to comprehend some of the weirdness Lynn was living--but also part of the government. So who knew?

“You’re not done with that?” Ratchet asked, catching her by surprise.

“What?”

“With the rate you’ve been picking up Neocybex and how long you’ve been reading--”

“Oh!” Lynn nodded. “It took a bit longer. Quintessons isn’t exactly the most translatable concept. Also your text isn’t really phonics friendly.”

“As long as you’re reading it…” The medic’s frame relaxed some.

“I’m a Librarian .” She snorted. “I’ll return the stuff I borrow in a timely manner.”

“Oh, I expect that.” He waved a hand. “But...you seem more at ease with something to put your mind to.”

Lynn blinked. “Trust a doctor to know.”

“It is my job.” He pointed out.

“Well...You’re right. Thank you. I’m more just trying to parse out what Ultra Magnus didn’t write about. The stuff outside the procedure.”

“Hmm…” Ratchet nodded. “That was a….difficult time. So much we didn’t know about ourselves, much less the Quentessons. It messed more than one good mech up.”

“Wait.” Lynn sat up. “Bulkhead said that was before your time.”

“Before his time.” The Medic corrected. 

“So...you were... there ?”

“Yes.” He scowled at her. “Just because humans don’t live long doesn’t make me old!”

“I didn’t say that,” She rolled her eyes. “But that means...you actually know what happened, right? At least a bit?”

“Bits and pieces.” He admitted.

Lynn paused. “If...If you’re willing to share anything about that time, I’d be interested.”

“Perhaps.” He shrugged. “But my primary concerns are getting you to proficiency with our language, and keeping you out of the hands of Decepticons and other troublemakers. The war stories will have to wait.”

“Fair enough.” Lynn tapped the datapad absently. “If...if I say something cruel or ignorant, I’m sorry. Your history is completely new to me, and I don’t understand much of it. I can barely keep up with the current situation--but….Please just tell me. I can’t do better if I don’t know.”

Ratchet nodded. “I will.”

“Alright.” She nodded back.

“Now…” The medic scowled meaningfully at the clock on the wall. “You should sleep.”

“It’s like college all over again,” She groused, gathering her things. “I get a room with no windows and a dorm mom telling me to sleep.”

“Goodnight, Lynn.” 

“Night, Ratchet.”

Chapter Text

Waking up was surreal. Lynn had only begun to get used to the sounds of her apartment–neighbors shifting about, the early birds forcing her to admit it was her time to wake as well, just before her own alarm started sounding. The sight of the sun just barely beginning to crest up on the horizon as she hurried through a cup of coffee.

Base had her woken up by the movement of mechs. She could hear their muffled chatter and heavy footsteps. Some part of her cringed internally at sleeping on the ground level. All it would take was one careless mech walking her room without thinking. Arcee could do damage. Bulkhead could kill her outright.

Lynn shuddered and moved quickly to get ready. Her new coffee pot was already going, set to start just before her alarm. It had been a Fowler recommendation, and she was having to admit a respect for the man. He’d done more for her in a short span than most government agencies had her whole life. 

“Alien robots.” She muttered, pouring out a mug to sip on while she worked on the makeup. “Who knew?”

The makeup did a decent job hiding away the worst of the dark circles she’d been developing. Shame it couldn’t fix the aches from the bruises from her fall or sleeping on a metal berth the night before. She rubbed her shoulders, relieving the complaining muscles some. All in all, not a bad start to a Monday after moving into an apartment with alien robots. She was even able to go over her neocybex vocabulary before a knock came to her door. She found Bumblebee waiting.

Bumblebee chirped a greeting. He shifted into the Camaro, the door sliding open.

“Morning.” Lynn replied, sliding in. He was polite enough to wait for her to settle in before moving. Bless him. 

They met up with Bulkhead and Arcee at the base entrance. Lynn listened to their morning banter as she sipped her coffee. Mostly complaints about road repairs and patrol routes.

“Lynn, you wanna catch a patrol with us?” Arcee’s voice came over Bee’s speakers. “Jack’s working extra shifts for his ‘garage fees’, and I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Only if you let me garble at you in your native language.” The human chuckled. “I’m still not good at the sounds.”

“Deal.” Arcee agreed. “And don’t be too hard on yourself. Some tones are nearly impossible for humans.”

“Go figure.” She smiled into her travel mug. 

Bumblebee shot what sounded like a question.

“Bee wants to know how your reading’s going,” Bulkhead translated. “Bet it makes for good reading before bed.”

“I’m almost done with my personal notes.” She sighed, eyes studying the passing desert. “The procedural jargon’s what weighs it down. I thought my tax forms were a nightmare.”

“Personal notes?” She could hear the arch in Arcee’s brow.

“I don’t have the context for the book. So I made notes for what I can’t parse out.” She sighed. “I know Ratchet said it should be in my skill level, but I’m not so sure…”

“He has jumped the gun before.” The Motorcycle agreed. “But you seem to be getting it okay.”

“Hopefully the next one’s easier. I miss the folklore feel from my last read.” Lynn yawned as they pulled into Jasper proper. It was a little eerie to see the commuters pulling out and heading towards the highway and the city beyond. She was struck again by how isolated it felt. The middle of nowhere had seemed so good just a few weeks ago. Like the self imposed exile was the height of safety. The truth was nowhere was safe forever. It was all so tenuous.

The thought sobered her as she glanced at the others. Bulkhead and Arcee peeled off into different directions, leaving her and Bumblebee to pick up Raf. How long could this arrangement really go? Supposedly they had their own kind hunting them–and according to Fowler humans too. They were only safe underground. And with four humans under their protection–four easily traceable, civilian humans…

The sound of Raf opening the door pulled her from her thoughts. Lynn took a quick sip to cover the fresh wave of fear. Raf didn’t need to see that in her. 

“How is it sleeping at base?” He asked eagerly. “I’m hoping to get my mom to agree to let me sleep over some time.”

The thought haunted her. A child in a military base…

“Still getting used to it,” she pushed past the anxiety. “Though it beats…” She stopped herself, realizing she’d almost gone into something incredibly depressing. “Beats my old dorms. Autobots are pretty good neighbors, apparently.” So long as none of them wandered into her room by mistake…

Bee chimed in, and Raf laughed.

“He says Bulkhead kept jumping like he was hearing scraplets.”

“Scraplets?” She squinted.

“See, they’re these little parasites that love eating metal,” Raf began. Lynn was able to sit back and take in the harrowing misadventures of 3 teens and the resident alien robots. It didn’t fully alleviate her fears for them, but it at least distracted her for the rest of the ride.
They met the others at school–Bulkhead having gone to pick up Jack in addition to Miko. Lynn guessed he was really pushing that messed up engine story. Arcee was there too–long enough to say hello and see that Agent Burns was there. The security uniform did nothing to dull his clear military stance or presence. Maybe…just maybe Lynn would know peace in her stacks now.

Lynn did not know peace in her stacks today. Apparently being out of shouting range of an autobot set her teeth on edge more than she had expected. And though she knew it was Burns, each time he made his rounds, the sound of his heavy boots made her blood pressure spike. She’d almost missed an attempted book heist at lunch–only to have Burns catch the student. Just another email Lynn had to send. Another email that would go ignored.

She was relieved when her workday ended, letting her trot out to the parking lot. Arcee had thought to bring a spare helmet from base. It was a fancy one with a comm the Autobot could tap into–making for a weird conversation. Like talking on the phone while being on the same rollercoaster car. Sort of. When Lynn was inside the other bot’s cabs she could pretend they were on a hands free speaker. It made it feel less strange to think about it that way. Arcee was stretching her limits of mental gymnastics. Worse, she was making her struggle for adequate analogies. 

“So how’s Burns treating you?” Arcee asked as they took to the highway.

“Okay.” Lynn leaned forward, unaccustomed to riding a motorcycle. “He caught one of the students trying to steal a book.”

“Why am I sensing a ’but’ in there?”

“I’m just on edge.” Lynn admitted. “It’s easier to pretend those people don’t exist when I’m at base…At school? I’m just waiting for one of them to try something.”

“You know one of us is never too far away, right?” 

“I know.” She forced her eyes up on the road. “Just takes time. Lot to adjust to. Seems like I get one thing down and a bomb blows up just to throw me off.”

“I can relate.” The femme mused. “Just got word from Ratchet–we’re clear to groundbridge.”

“I thought we were going on patrol?”

“We are.” She could hear the smirk in her voice. “Just not in Jasper.”

The gate opened up on the empty stretch of highway. Lynn braced herself for the pressure. It was quick, and the atmosphere changed. It was still warm, but there was a smell of wet earth and sweet wood. Arcee slowed, allowing Lynn to slip off before transforming to join her.

Before them an expanse of redwoods sprawled. Lynn had to suck in a deep breath at the sight of rust colored bark, trees that towered even over where Optimus would peak. It was a little refreshing to see an Autobot look small compared to something. 

“The redwoods?” She asked dumbly. 

“Thought the change of pace would do you good,” Arcee smiled. 

“What about your patrol?”

“This is the patrol today.” she grinned. “CMO recommended, Optimus approved.”

“I…don’t know what to say…” Lynn admitted, her eyes trained on the forest. 

“I thought Ratchet gave you vocabulary words,” The blue bot teased, taking a few steps ahead. “Or did you want to skip the language lesson?”

“ No ! ” Lynn hurried to catch up. “ Learning !”

The femme laughed. “We’ve got a ways to go then.”

By the time the sun had set, the pair had taken a decent trek along the less beaten paths. They’d been able to avoid the more touristy trails, though every so often, Arcee would scramble up a tree and out of sight of a passionate hiker. Thankfully they moved on quickly, and the two resumed their own conversation–limited as it was. Lynn was starting to expand some–and Arcee made her tones clear and easy to understand in a natural way. Ratchet always made it feel instructional and overly clear that he was making the various iterations of words and sentences with her understanding in mind. Arcee was just talking.
“I’m actually impressed.” Arcee broke into english. “You’ve made a lot of progress in a short time.”

“It’s a good place to use my nervous energy,” The Librarian shrugged. “Keeps me from focusing on what’s happening around me.”

The autobot paused. “Things like your mom?”

“Among others.” Lynn frowned. “I was pretty mad about…other things too. Funny how it’s been flipped a bit.”

“For what it’s worth…” The femme offered. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I really understood what you meant. Even when you told us about becoming a Librarian.”

“Yeah, well…I didn’t get the whole intergalactic war thing.” She scuffed a stoned with her sneaker. “Still don’t, completely. It’s a lot to wrap my head around.”

“Which part?”

“A planet wide civil war.” The human admitted, glancing back through the trees. “I mean, I’m sure there are those who didn’t take a side, at least initially. Yet all I know about are two factions. I get why people would follow Optimus. Hell, if I thought he understood humanity a bit better, I’d probably have him on for President.”

Arcee smiled drly. “He’d never take it.”

“Shame. What I mean is…I guess I can’t imagine anyone with a choice fighting him for long.” Lynn sighed. “I…still don’t like being caught up in all of this. I don’t like watching the kids so closely involved, and I hate that I don’t have the ability to walk away from this situation. It’s just…all out of my control…” She started, seeing the femme’s thoughtful expression. 

“But even with all of my reservations and issues…I find myself…admiring y’all. I’ve been an absolute aft to you all, but you guys still have gone out of your way to help me…” Her eyes turned towards the bark of a redwood. “Optimus is….well he’s Optimus. Ratchet’s cranky and doesn’t really understand humans, but he’s not malicious. He’s even taking time to teach me. Bulkhead seems like a softie with Miko, and Bee…” She chuckled. “Well I can’t imagine disliking Bee.”

“Few could.” Arcee agreed. “I guess that leaves me.”

“I…” She grimaced. “Haven’t been fair to you. Not that I’ve been fair to the rest either, but…I think you pushed back more. It made it easier to want to fight.”

“You’ve got about as much fight as Miko,” Arcee agreed. “But more sense.”

“My point is, even with me wanting to fight someone over my crap…I couldn’t keep it up. You’re…” She looked up into the blue optics, struggling to explain. “Alien…but not . Not human, but so close…I look at you and I see people. Really weird people I don’t completely understand, but people . I don’t understand how a planet of people like you could come to blows and stay at blows for so long…”

Arcee turned back to the trail, optics tracing the snippets of the horizon through the dense forest. “How can a caretaker–a mom–want to attack her child?”

Lynn grimaced. “Because she’s a terrible person.”

“Cybertron had its share of terrible bots.” The autobot sighed. “Ratchet could tell you more about the beginning of the war–but I can tell you it was caused by someone I’d consider worse than your mom: Megatron.”

“Megatron?” Lynn fought to keep her face composed. That name just screamed of overcompensation. “Who’s Megatron?”

Chapter Text

“ My name is Lynn Chambers. I am part of Team Prime .”

“Less sarcastically.” Ratchet corrected, optics focused on his readings. ”Cybertroninans take Prime seriously.”

“I am part of Team Prime. ” The words still tasted bitter on her lips. Arcee’s accounts of the atrocities of Megatron had worked their way into her skull and lodged there. Yes, he had been the Decepticons leader–the only person who could really rally such a disparate group of awful under one banner and oppose Optimus. Someone who saw her people as the ants at best. A warlord with more heinous war crimes to his name than her grasp of Neocybex would allow for. That is what Team Prime woke up to each day. That was what they thought about when they spoke of war. Meanwhile, she panicked at the smells that reminded her of her own family.

“Lynn?” Ratchet’s sharp tone brought her back to reality. Base. Sitting on the new couch Fowler had brought them. The files and updated search information was spread out over the coffee table.

“I…” She trailed off, fingers reaching for the metal legs of the coffee table. “Need a break.”

The CMO turned from his work at the monitor, optics scrutinizing her. “That patrol was supposed to help. You look worse than yesterday.”

“Wow, Thanks Ratchet.” Lynn rolled her eyes. “You must be a real sparkbreaker .”

“I’m not going to paint over rust when it comes to my job.” He scoffed. “And 

I was, in fact.”

She smiled at the mental image. Ratchet at a bar, sipping on energon and chatting someone up. Then him losing his composure when someone inevitably said or did something stupid. Likely with the Neocybex equivalent of his exaggerated ‘Puuh-lease’ he favored. 

“If you’re finished laughing at my personal life?” He snipped, drawing closer to the platform.

“I would never,” She lied unapologetically. She would. She very much would.

“I suppose Arcee wasn’t able to alleviate your concerns?” He asked, pressing the conversation back to the serious matters.

“She did,” Lynn reassured. “That’s why they’re moving the old desk back in for my bed--Sleeping on ground level and all…”

“I meant about the search.”

Lynn glanced away, chewing her lip. “I’m…trying to keep my mind off it.” Only to have it hit upon something as terrifying as the particulars of the Cybertronian Civil War.

“And?” He pressed.

Her eyes flicked to his optics. “The more I learn about the ongoing conflict between Autobots and Decepticons, the more I worry.” She admitted.  “For the kids, for all of you, for our planet–I just feel very small and very helpless.”

“I share your worries.” Ratchet sighed. “Even if you were Cybertoronian, I doubt that it would diminish those fears.”

“Sorry,” She shook her head. “I wasn’t trying to be a downer…”

“I know.” He flashed her a sympathetic smile. “It’s difficult being the voice of reason.”

“Then…will you answer me something honestly?”

“So long as it isn’t something classified by Optimus,” The medic qualified.

“Do you think you can beat them?” 

Ratchet’s optics shuttered close, humming in thought. “I don’t know.”

Lynn was glad she had been seated. The blow from that admission was enough to knock the air out of her lungs. She’d come to accept that her life was now intertwined with theirs–the idea she’d fought so ardently against. And now to have it confirmed how bleak of a prospect it truly was…

“But if anyone can turn this around, it's Optimus.” Ratchet added, his optics back on her. “And with Megatron gone that hope only increases.”

“That Starscream sounds like a piece of work,” Lynn countered, rubbing her shoulders. “And Ariachnad…”

“The Decepticons are our burden to carry,” Optimus’s voice caught both their attention. “We will not allow them to bring you or any other human harm.”

“But–” Lynn shut her mouth, killing the question before it left her lips. ‘ What about you? ’ Damn it. She didn’t want to sit up at night thinking about these towering titans fighting other Cybertronians. She didn’t want to think about them coming in injured from skirmishes where they were outnumbered. She didn’t want to find out what happened when they bit off more than they could chew. She didn’t want to care. 

“Trust me,” Arcee added, Bee and Bulkhead following her. “Next time I see Ariachnad, she’ll regret ever coming to this planet.”

“And I’ve got a score to settle with Breakdown.” Bulkhead added, smashing his fists together. The pounding screech of metal knuckles against metal knuckles made Lynn flinch. 

Bee chirped and trilled. Likely his own promises of Decepticon fighting. Though it undermined the reassuring nod he gave her. The other bots winced.

“Right…” Bulkhead muttered sheepishly. “And we’ll be careful.”

“Can’t exactly protect anyone if we go to scrap.” Arcee agreed mildly. 

Another whir of sound from Bumblebee.

“Well said.” Optimus smiled at the scout. “We are few, but we have not come this far only to fall to the Decepticons.”

She stared at them all, her gut twisting. She never wanted to care about this. Understand? Yes. But she could understand and keep them at arm's length. Like work acquaintances–barely connected, easy to forget or overlook when she was alone. Distant fiction or historical events that felt safely past and distant.

“Did you finish?” Ratchet’s question broke the tension a little.

“Yup.” Bulkhead nodded. “Platform all set up for you.”

“Thanks.” Lynn forced herself to smile. 

“You should take a look,” Arcee suggested, head jerking towards the habsuits. “Make sure it’s how you want it.”

Ratchet held out a hand to her. She debated the wisdom of it briefly. But her pride was already pretty far gone now, and she was pretty worn out from the hike. She slipped into his hand. 

It was another punch on her surreal bingo card. The feeling of shifting metal holding her a good story high. Like the world's worst elevator. Thankfully it was a short walk by Autobot standards. She was a bit surprised to see her door had been marked. It was at Cybertonina height too, though the script was still a little beyond her. The second half seemed to read ‘Halls’ , but that seemed inaccurate with context.

“Can you read it?” Ratchet asked.

“Halls?” 

The chuckles answered that.

“It’s a bit…rough translation wise,” The medic admitted. “But roughly what your name would read in Neocybex glyphs.”

Lynn stared at the door. “My name?” It hit her, rereading the first word–not Halls, but Chambers. And the other…

“It just says Water.” 

“Your name in your human language means body of water.” Ratchet smiled proudly. “So we used the cybertronian equivalent for your name.”

She had to choke back the laughter. It was like they’d cracked open a baby name book and looked up the meanings and then put those words onto her door–the old fashion Google Translate. It was so clumsy and she loved it.

“Thanks,” Lynn smiled. “It’s great.”

The inside hit her like a ton of bricks. Across the ground were boxes. Her boxes. The ones from her apartment that  she hadn’t managed to fully unpack. Even a few of the ones she had. All of them were neatly stacked along the far edge of the room.

“Agent Fowler sent some people to clean out your place,” Bulkhead explained. “Thought it’d be easier if they did it.”

“That means a lot.” She admitted, a feeling of relief rushing over her. She didn’t have to go back. She didn’t have to see what he’d done or smell that awful mixture of menthol and tobacco. She didn’t have to worry about Burns standing guard while she broke down in the sorry remains of what had been her home. She didn’t have to suffer with the concerned looks from the Autobots after yet another mental breakdown.

“How’s the bed look?” Arcee’s question smoothed over the overwhelming tide of emotions. 

They had brought in the old Cybertronian desk, now outfitted with a welded set of rails and ladder. On the top was her bed and her own human sized desk and chair. It did make her feel a bit more like a doll living in a dollhouse, but safer than before. There was even a large red button labeled ‘Light’ in Neocybex.

“Perfect.” She admitted.

“Best test out the railings.” Ratchet grunted, setting Lynn onto the enclosed desk. 

“Ratchet, I built those to code!” Bulkhead grumbled. “I know what I’m doing.”

Lynn pulled on the rails. Stiff and solid. She was more likely to stub a toe than fall off.

“You do good work.” She praised. “If I ever get my security deposit back, maybe you can help me fix up a shipping container into a tiny house.”

“You’d need a second one just for your books.” Arcee joked, eyeing the boxes. “How’d you fit all of those in your old place?

“ Determination .”

Bumblebee chirped.

“Yes…” Ratchet agreed. “She’s come a long way in a short time.”

“I’ve got a good teacher.” Lynn smiled at Ratchet. “I wouldn’t have figured out half of it without him.”

“Yes, well…” The medic muttered, unusually bashful at the praise. “It’s nice to have an invested student.”

“Indeed,” Optimus added. “It has been some time since we came to Earth. And in all of our travels through space, this is the first time any of our hosts or allies sought to learn.”

“Seriously?” 

“Well….anyone with integrity.” Ratchet corrected. “Usually it’s a ploy to gain access to Cybertronian technology.”

“Ah.” Lynn nodded. “Guess that’s why you guys don’t let Burns on base.”

“A safety precaution.” Optimus confirmed. “While I believe humans have the capacity for great things, anything we teach or allow into their hands is our responsibility.”

Lynn stared up at the Prime, her chest tightening. “That’s…” Lonely? So much to bear? Overwhelmingly the right thing to do? A clear honor to be allowed that access? It was so much.

The librarian stared at the faces of the Autobots. A five man band. A single unit holding half of their planet’s worst at bay. And they trusted her. To the point they didn’t trust her own government. Despite how clearly antagonistic she’d been.

“You alright?” Arcee asked. 

“Yeah,” She nodded quickly. “Sorry. Just…tired. It’s been a long day.”

“True.” Ratchet agreed. “You should rest soon–and actually sleep.”

“Right.” 

There were warm smiles from the bots as they wished her collective goodnight. She watched them leave her room, her gut twisting. It kept knotting over itself as she dressed for bed. She hadn’t wanted to care. Lynn had more than enough problems for a single human–let alone taking on the emotional burden of worrying about five beings who dwarfed her in size, skill, knowledge, problems and anything else she cared to compare. 

Despite that, she knew herself better. She slapped the big red light button and slipped into bed with a mild huff of annoyance with herself. She cared. Frag it all to the pit , but she cared.

Chapter Text

The week felt eerie to Lynn as she fell into her new routine. Late nights reading Cybertronian history to escape the waking nightmares. Accounts of distant war, rust plagues and manifestos for and against Functionalism saw the Librarian into early mornings. She readied for work under the unease of a faraway planet’s past. That feeling carried into the drives to Jasper. She watched the sun rise over the desert landscape with sore eyes, and listened to chattering bots over the comm. 

Mostly they passed quips about baselife, Ratchet’s latest complaint, or patrol routes. Then the kids joined them, and the Librarian wondered for the thousandth time if she were a terrible person for not pushing them to be placed in government hands. That was quickly quashed by her own history, and left her alone with boiling resentment and worry.  By the time they were all ushered into school and she was in her work area Lynn was already emotionally drained.

Then Burns began his rounds. The steady ‘ clomp… clomp ’ of his boots thudded like drums in her brain. Like being trapped in a mosh-pit of a rock concert she’d never wanted to attend. It made it hard to keep up with sorting returns, holds, and her other duties. So far she had about two dedicated workshops and a side project–a silent hope that something would stick. These kids had nothing to do. That had to change.

So she drafted up one for job resumes, another for college prep. Useful. The side project was taking effort to put together. A book club, which thus far hadn’t gained any real traction. The kids had also sidestepped her when she showed them the fliers during their routine Library check in. Jack had offered up his busy schedule as his excuse, while Raf pointed out the monster PC project. Miko didn’t bother with an excuse, telling Lynn she’d rather hang out with Bulkhead than read a lame book and talk about it. 

At least they were upfront about it. Lynn found her fliers ripped from the bulletin boards. Judging from the trending tags from the student body, accompanied by more burned scraps of colored paper, she’d only fanned the flame of resentment somehow.

Underneath it all felt something…wrong. Like ozone in the air, coating her tongue with every conversation she had. The hiss from the air conditioner raised the hair on her arms. Each rumble of an outside vehicle reminded her of distant thunder. She didn't like what she was feeling.

“You look ready to bolt,” Burn’s comment turned her stomach. “You okay?”

“No.” She admitted, despite herself. Lying here wasn’t useful.

“You’re safe.”

“I didn’t lie to you,” She snorted, slotting the returns onto her wheeled cart. “You could at least return the favor.”

Burns sighed. “Okay, I was trying to de-escalate.”

“Hmm.” She hummed, moving the cart towards the stacks.

“It’s been a while since I’ve met someone so jumpy.” 

“Pardon me for feeling like my well being is at risk. Death threats and all.” Lynn paused in the fantasy section, scanning the shelves.

“Considering your roommates, I wouldn’t think you’d feel it so much.” Burns mused, leaning against a bookcase. “Not much an average citizen can do against them.”

“Right, because the intergalactic civil war never crosses my mind.” She found the gap and slid the book into place.

“Yeah…” He grimaced. “Can’t really argue that one.”

“Besides,” She added grimly, pushing on to the Sci-fi section. “It’s not like my mind is always functioning on common sense.”

“You get nightmares?”

The question caused her to pause, hand over her returns. “Yes.”

“Writing helps.” He commented. “Putting it down, changing it to something better…It helps to think of them like a boggart.”

Lynn glanced back at the Agent. “I’ll try that…”

“Lavender's nice too.” Burns continued. “But anything calming that doesn’t smell like those memories would help.”

“Menthol.” She replied automatically. “I hate that smell.”

He flashed a small reassuring smile. “The worst cigarettes.”

“I’d get therapy but…” She trailed off helplessly. 

“I’ll see when we can get the specialist in.” Burns offered. “Clearance for this stuff is a pain in the ass.”

“Imagine that.” Lynn chuckled, turning back to the shelves. Her smile faded as her eyes skimmed the line of spines. “ Frag. ”

“Something wrong?” 

“A book’s missing.” 

Lynn stared at the email draft, her emotions warring inside her body. Resentment bubbled up the most readily. That was an old friend by this point, but today it was spreading across a number of people. The school for its lackadaisical attitude towards actually enforcing rules. The students for taking their boredom out on her. The town for not having anything for the local teens to occupy themselves with. The fragging government agent turned school security who was poking around her stacks for clues. If she were feeling a bit more rational she’d confine the issue to the school, maybe the locals. She  wasn’t feeling reasonable.

The computer keys plunked loudly under her furious typing. Most of it was an angry stream of consciousness punctuated with insults and profanity. It was ignoring the classes for effective communication she’d taken in college. They hadn’t been effective so far, and a series of hard ‘fuck’s felt better to type in all caps. Not that she’d send this. No. Not even in boiling rage.

Instead she consigned it to a private folder, letting herself let go a little. She was still angry. Still infuriated by the incompetence of the school. At least now she could be articulate and professional about it.

“I think I’ll pull security footage,” Burn’s made her glance up. “Maybe catch one of the kids stuffing a book in a bag.”

“That’s a blindspot.” Lynn retorted, typing out the composed, businesslike response. “I’ve got six in here–two in the Fiction, one by the periodicals, two in history and the last one by the restrooms.”

“Still might catch something.” He shrugged.

“Fine.” She bit down on her temper, reigning it back. “I’ll check online later to find out  who burns the damn thing–not that it’ll make much difference.”

The bell rang, calling out the final end of school for staff. Lynn groaned at the half finished email, fingers skittering to close it up with the promise of follow up. Burns glanced out the window, scanning the parking lot. She could hear the rumble of cars starting and moving out. Looks like they’d be the last out today.

“Your ride’s here.” He scowled. “And some other car.”

The anger in Lynn froze over. “Anyone in it?”

“Doesn’t look like it,” Burns turned back to her. “But I’m going to walk you out, just to be on the safe side. Try not to look at it–we’ll tell your ride.”

She nodded, sending off the email and collecting her things. She could feel her fingers shaking. That smell was starting to clog her senses. 

“Chambers?”

“Let’s just go.”

The walk to the parking lot was excruciating. Lynn felt jittery and unsteady on her legs. Like her first attempt to party in college–sugar and alcohol burning her senses and sending her staggering towards the bright yellow beacon Bumblebee was. 

Burns stayed close, making what sounded like work-related small talk. She forced herself to smile or nod, hoping it at least looked normal. Maybe there was nothing to the stray vehicle. Maybe a student or other staff decided to carpool and leave it. Maybe someone was just working late.

The feeling of the seat belt clicking into place brought her back to the present. Bumblebee gave a short series of sounds. Gentle, soothing. Lynn realized Burns was finishing the quick explanation before leaning back and tapping the hood.

More beeps from Bumblebee. A question. 

“Let’s…just get back to base…” She breathed in. The Autobots interior smelled of leather seats and that new car smell. She never understood how he managed to keep that considering how much time she and Raf spent inside. But overthinking that lead to more questions. And those felt a little too personal.

Lynn didn’t relax until they were safely on the road heading out of Jasper. They hadn’t been followed. Bumblebee gave a short burst of chatter. Lynn still didn’t understand him, but appreciated the effort.

“ Thank you. ” 

He gave an upbeat sounding beep that made her chuckle a little.

“Wish I was better at talking with you…” She admitted. “All this neocybex and I still have trouble understanding you.”

He gave another series of beeps, a light hearted tone. 

“I’ll…work on it.” She promised, sinking further into the seat. “And thanks again…”

Just when Lynn thought she was going to get some kind of relief her heart dropped at the sight inside base. Instead of patrol or personal activities with the kids, Arcee and Bulkhead were waiting. The three kids crowded together, peering down from the elevated platform. It was one of the rare times she’d seen the teens looking scared. She didn’t blame them.  Optimus was lying on the medbay berth, groaning weakly while Ratchet scanned him.

Bumblebee shot off an alarmed sound. For once Lynn didn’t have to guess what he was saying. It was the same thing she wanted to know. ‘ What happened?! ’

“Cybonic plague,” Ratchet explained. “It’s only contagious if contact is made with the infected energon.”

Bumblebee moved to join the others, carefully lifting Lynn up to the platform. She didn’t complain. Not now. Not over this. Instead she slipped under the rails  joining  the kids. She gripped the rails, forcing herself to stay calm.

“What was a plague doing in an Autobot spaceship?” Miko asked, her voice too soft.

“Its passengers were infected,” Arcee explained. “The virus wiped out millions on Cybertron during the great war.”

“Like Rust plague?” Lynn asked. That she’d read about–understood. Devastating, horrific, and incurable. 

“No,” Ratchet turned back to them, expression grim. “Cybonic plague was engineered in the Decepticons Biological warfare program…” His optics scanned over them meaningfully. “By Megatron himself.”

That didn’t give her much hope. Megatron…the former leader of the Decepticons, cruel, vicious, and calculating by all accounts. Anything he engineered would be equally so.

“You…have a cure, don’t you?” Raf asked. It twisted Lynn’s heart further. 

“No…cure…” Optimus wheezed weakly. 

Lynn stared down in horror. She’d suspected that answer but…it seemed so wrong. Seeing Ratchet shush Optimus so gently  only scared her more. Stern, cranky, no-nonsense Ratchet…

“Would Megatron create a disease without having a cure?” Jack reasoned. “What if he caught it by accident?”

Lynn found herself nodding. Thank god someone was still thinking.

“Not like we can ask Megatron, Jack.” Bulkhead pointed out. “He’s pushing up lugnuts.”

“But Starscream would keep something like that right?” Lynn pushed back. “That’s too useful not to keep.”

“And we might be able to access the Decepticon Database,” Ratchet agreed, moving back to the monitor. “For the moment, we still have a fix on the Decepticon Warship.”

And just like that Arcee and Bumblebee hurried towards the groundbridge. Lynn huddled in with the kids, staring at the Autobot leader as Ratchet urged the two to be quick. The sound of the bridge hissed to life and they were gone. 

“Hold on,” Ratchet murmured. “We’ll find it.” Lynn wasn’t sure if it was reassurance for Optimus, the kids, or himself.

Chapter Text

It was hard to wait for the infiltration. Lynn gave her best reassurances to the kids before Ratchet put her and Bulkhead on watching Optimus’s vitals. She was tempted to protest–unlike the bots, she didn’t fully understand what she was reading. With the tense situation however, she decided to bite her tongue. Bulkhead could relay the nuanced ones. All she had to do was raise an alarm if they dipped seriously.

It had to end with a win, right? Staring at Optimus she tried to believe it. Surely they’d seen similarly dire situations? And Ratchet was smart–he’d cobbled up a bridge that allowed them to travel anywhere on earth with scrap parts. 

“L..ynn?” Optimus rumbled.

“Here.” She leaned closer, trying to ignore the sinking feeling. She needed to be strong. “Everyone’s okay right now, so just rest.”

He groaned, shutting his optics. Lynn glanced back at Ratchet. He and Arcee were  snarling over the database. Bumblebee was saying something, causing more frustration from Arcee. Then surprise.

“What is?” Ratchet pressed.

“It’s…Megatron.” Arcee’s words over comm. “He’s…alive.”

“That’s not possible.” The medic rebuffed, though Lynn wasn’t sure he believed himself.

“Well he’s not exactly staring back.” The femm added.

“Mega…tron?” Optimus asked, dim optics searching the room.

“Easy big guy,” Lynn patted his hand. “Easy…” She really hoped he wouldn’t remember this. It felt weird talking to the Autobot leader the same way she had her baby brother when he was sick.

“He’s critical,” Arcee continued. “Hooked up to life support.” The whine of machinery caused Lynn to tense. “Time to finish this once and for all.”

“Wait!” Ratchet’s digits gripped the control panel hard. “ Don’t !”

“One good reason,” The sound of her weaponry was still high pitched. “Fast.”

“Megatron may be Optimus’s one hope for Survival.”

Lynn glanced up sharply. Was he hoping to revive Megatron to interrogate him? That would be the ethical medical practice but that was so risky . And if the leader of the Decpeticons was critical, then what could Ratchet do that their own medics weren’t?

“Does he display brainwave activity?” 

“Spiking hard,” Arcee confirmed. “His Sick Mind, still at work.”

“Perfect!” The medic’s fingers relaxed, leaving the barest of indents behind. “If a cure exists, Megatron may be the only one who knows it.”

“Dumb.” Lynn frowned. “Was he expecting to be okay enough to perform the medical procedures himself?”

“Likely well enough to order medical staff to do it for him,” Ratchet corrected. 

“A serious miscalculation.” The Librarian grunted.

“More importantly, how are we supposed to get that information out of him in this state?” Arcee pressed.

“You must enter his brain and find it.” The medic responded.

Lynn stared at him, dumbstruck. That was…utterly against the various codes of ethics she’d been reading about. Even in the coldest, most jaded and cynical accounts during the Quintessons and the Rust Plague, there had been a set of standards. This sounded like…

“Ratchet, are you out of your fragging mind?!” Lynn had to agree with the femm.

“The Decepticon Laboratory should contain everything you need for a Cortical Psychic patch,” Ratchet pushed past the objection. 

Lynn found herself shaking her head. She’d read about them in her recent dive into Ultra Magnus’s written works. Though overly technical, he’d laid out the regulations involved with such practices–more often a torture method than a medical treatment, and tricky to preform without excellent medical personal.

“Have you even performed one?”

“No.” Ratchet admitted. “But I have thoroughly studied the theoretical literature.”

“A what?” Miko whispered to Bulkhead.

“Uhh….” The mech floundered.

“Essentially a link between two unconscious parties, allowing one to enter another’s mind–ostensibly for the purpose of information gathering.” Lynn explained, frowning at Ratchet. “But it was–”

“Invented by Decepticons, Outlawed by Autobots,” The medic ground out.

“Can’t we just haul Megatron through the groundbridge?” Arcee pressed. “Buy us some time to figure this out?”

“Time is the one thing Optimus does not have!” He snapped. “One of you must try this! I will not allow Optimus to pass knowing Megatron will outlive him!”

“Ratchet, I would lay down my life for Optimus, anytime, anywhere,” Arcee’s voice was taut. “But a mind body split…”

Bumblebee chimed in. Lynn instinctively looked to Raf, waiting for the translation.

“Are you sure?” The boy asked, clearly concerned. Lynn grimaced, realizing he’d volunteered. Bumblebee was a sweet bot–gentle and cheerful. Him going into the mind of a bot who massacred millions with no hesitation…

“Bee’s the best scout there is,” Bulkhead reassured.

Lynn grit her teeth as she watched Jack and Miko place comforting arms around the younger kid. Her own hands went to Optimus’s to hide the shaking. There was no way to shield them. This was the ugly reality she’d been afraid they might face. It felt worse than she’d thought it would.

“Ratchet. If he gets hurt because of this ,” Lynn growled, twisting the pronunciation hard against her teeth. “ It’s your responsibility .”

She’d half expected him to snap back at her. With tensions taut and stakes high, she wouldn’t have blamed him. Instead his digits slid against the dents in the control panel, optics glued to the screen.

“ I know. ”

Lynn found herself having to reassure the groaning Prime that everything was still fine. She decided to omit the part he’d been half conscious for. Stressing him out wouldn’t help. He groaned a little, shutting his optics again.

“Lynn..”

“What is it?” She forced herself to stay calm. She could be furious later. Right now, she just needed to keep him from staining himself. Otherwise, what were all these stupid risks for?

“Trust Ratch…et…”

“I am.” She patted that huge hand. “And you should too–by resting. Let your team do their job now.”  She was glad the others weren’t paying them any mind–too absorbed in the tense process happening aboard the Decepticon ship. The last thing she wanted to think about was how hypocritical she was being. 

The hand twitched against hers with gentle pressure. Lynn glanced back to the others, unwilling to meet Prime’s unfocused gaze. He didn’t need to know she was a liar. 

Ratchet had spent that time walking Arcee through the supplies and process for the link. From her place on the medical berth she could only make out a little of the monitor as Bumblebee began his trek through twisted thoughts.

“Where is that?” Jack asked, straining against the rail as if that would answer his question.

There was a subdued reply from the scout.

“Bee says it looks like Kaon…” Raf gripped the rails tighter. “The Decepticon Capitol back on Cybertron.”

Lynn forced herself to look back at the monitors over Optimus. She didn’t understand them, but she could see several concerning dips. His optics were shut again, hand slack under hers.

“Ratch…” Her throat constricted painfully.

“Optimus’s Vitals,” Bulkhead supplied what she couldn’t finish.

“I know.” His voice was soft and grim. Lynn found her anger with the medic evaporating like snow in the desert. He was aware how dire it all was. He was bearing the weight of this war and its future while his leader–the one person he believed could turn it around–was laying on the brink of certain death. She’d do a lot more than merely porting into another person’s mind for a cure if it were her siblings on the line.

The medic turned his attention back to Bumblebee’s exploration. The scout had found something that excited him.

“Bumblebee, that’s not Optimus,” Ratchet explained patiently. “Rather a figment of Megatron’s mind. He can neither see, nor hear you.”

Lynn squeezed Optimus’s hand, reassuring herself. Her grip tightened as the sound of cold laughter swept over the room. It reminded her of the cold of space–inky darkness between stars where no human could survive.

“Optimus Prime,” The voice was just as cold in its triumphant gravely declaration. “Your Autobot Armies are defeated. Bow before your new master.” 

“Never, Megatron.” The voice of Optimus came strong, resolute, if a bit off. Hollow , she thought, eyes straying back to the patient on the berth. “One shall stand, One shall fall.”

“So be it.” There was something very odd in that tone. Something Lynn couldn’t place…

The sound of battle reclaimed her attention. She caught the end of it, a mortally wounded Optimus fading into dust.

“That never happened!” Bulkhead’s optics were wide.

“It’s not a memory,” The CMO frowned. “We’re seeing Kaon as Megatron has recreated it in his darkest dreams.”

Another Optimus morphed into being, declaring a righteous challenge. Lynn closed her eyes, trying to pick apart what about this version seemed wrong.

“The Autobot scout…” The hiss of that voice pulled her away from her own thoughts. “Punishment for trespassing in my domain is your destruction!”

Pride. She thought. He’s incredibly prideful. How far did that go though? Into arrogance, maybe? Her suspicion was confirmed by the warlords rage as his attacks passed harmlessly through Bumblebee.

“Megatron can’t touch Bee?” Raf sounded delighted by the revelation.

“Because he’s not a creation of Megatron’s mind.” Ratchet explained.

Lynn tried to recall what she knew about Cortical Psychic Patch. Odd that two linked minds couldn’t cause damage to the other. But it was such a complex and understudied topic outside of Decepticon Labs…And most of what she had read hadn’t made much sense when it did explain known details. Hard to tell if that was her own inexperience with Cybertronian medicine, language, or just another casualty to Ultra Magnus’s writing style.

“You’re not wearing Phase displacement armor. Your optics track my movement, so you’re not a hologram,” Lynn didn’t like the calculation happening here. It wasn’t the self gratifying script he’d recited against his greatest enemy. This was active thought.  “And I do not believe in spirits. So tell me Scout… what are you. ”

Her fears were confirmed as more apparitions of Optimus, alongside Bumblebee and Bulkhead came to challenge the Decepticon leader. Lynn frowned. Just those three? Why not the others?

It didn’t matter. The Warlord obliterated them in a fit of fury, leaving only the true Bumblebee. Lynn sucked in a breath, catching sight of red glowing optics as the dust of imagined fight cleared.

“You are real.” Megatron stated. “They were not.”

“I don’t like this.” Lynn muttered.

“A cortical Psychic Patch,” He chuckled at the deduction. “How…unexpected.”

“We’ve stirred Megatron from his Oblivion,” Ratchet grimaced. 

“Don’t like this.” Lynn repeated a bit louder.

“Ratchet,” Arcee’s voice whispered. “Someone’s coming.”

Lynn had almost forgotten the other half of this infiltration–the one into the lab. The sound of metal clinking heavily against metal gave way to conversation over Arcee’s comm.

“Knockout, if you would be so kind as to provide your expert medical opinion to Soundwave, for the Historical record?” The first voice was oddly rumbly in its lower registers, but pitched higher than Lynn would have expected. 

“Simply put,” A familiar voice spoke up. “Unaided, Megatron could remain in this deathless slumber forever.” Without that taunting edge his voice was almost pleasantly smooth. It didn’t calm Lynn’s increasing heart rate.

She barely heard the rest of the chatter. She had to focus on breathing. The librarian  forced her gaze on the equipment. The words and numbers meant nothing to her, but she tried to parse meaning out of them anyway. The sound of her car’s engine was in her ears, the smell of dust flying and rubber burning.

The metal hand under hers twitched as Optimus gave a weak groan. That’s right. He’d caught her then. Car and all, he’d caught her. Again when Shawn had attacked her, Optimus had caught her. His hand was right there.

Lynn gripped it tightly and breathed slowly. The sounds of her dessert tumble faded. The smells dissipated with each breath of base air. Cool, with hints of Coolant, oil, and other scents she couldn’t fully place.

“And just what is it I want most, Scout?” Megatron’s gravelly voice was the first thing she was able to interpret properly.

The resolute beeping was Bumblebee, she realized dully, turning back to look at Optimus.

“I do slay Optimus by my own hand, at will, whenever I desire!” 

Bumblebee shot back a retort.

“Bee told Megatron that if he lets the virus destroy the real Optimus, Megatron’ll never get the chance to do it himself.” Raf translated.

“Smart.” Jack approved, and Lynn had to agree. 

“Twisted.” Miko added. Another agreement from the Librarian. 

Lynn turned her attention back to Optimus. It struck her then how good his team really was. They were each taking great risks and navigating them with expertise that Lynn wouldn’t have thought possible. Bulkhead wasn’t exaggerating when he said Bumblebee was the best scout there was. Optimus didn’t inflate Ratchet’s abilities when he spoke on them. And both Arcee and Bulkhead were forces to reckon with in their own rights. This is why Prime had urged her to trust them. Because he did.

Lynn kept her own eyes tracking vitals, ensuring they didn’t drop any farther under her gaze. Not she could do anything other than alert Ratchet if they did. Still, she would do it. The one thing she could contribute she would.

She listened to Megatron bargain with Bumblebee–first revealing the formula needed, then backtracking to earn assurance. He was definitely clever. Just not as clever as Ratchet.

“Arcee! We have the formula! Disconnect Bumblebee now!”

Lynn gripped that big hand, holding her breath as the tension peeked. She could hear Megatron roaring as he realized too-late he’d been tricked. Funny. A decepticon being deceived. Ratchet muttered furiously as he opened the groundbridge. Bumblebee charged through, accompanied by the whine of alien weapon fire. Arcee backflipped into base, her feets screeching as she caught traction. The ground was closed by the time she landed.

“How’s Optimus, Lynn?” Ratchet asked, typing away at the console.

“Dropped a bit,” She reported, looking back. “How long is that cure going to take?”

The medic glanced first at the vitals then back at the screen. “Not long. Megatron engineered it to be easily made quickly by anyone who knows their way around a lab.”

“So half the time for an expert?”

“ Puh-lease .” He gave her the slightest hint of a smile as he passed to gather supplies. “It’ll take a quarter at most.”

Ratchet hadn’t overstated his ability. Within short order he was back from the deeper part serving as his medbay with a decent sized vial. The injection process was remarkably similar to the human equivalent. He inserted the rather large needle into a tube in one arm. The glowing blue liquid disappeared slowly, bit by agonizing bit.

“Ratchet…” Lynn hazarded. If this were a delicate moment, surely he’d ignore her, or tell her to wait.

“Yes?”

She glanced back, ensuring the others were busy. Raf was sticking to Bumblebee. He was smiling, so it seemed more congratulatory than anxious. Jack seemed to be closer to that, but the space between him and Arcee was comfortable enough. Miko and Bulkhead were eagerly listening to the blow by blow from Arcee. Good. All distracted. She leaned in and lowered her voice.

“I’m sorry. For earlier. I was out of line…It wasn’t fair of me to add pressure on you. ”

“It’s part of my job.” Ratchet spared her a brief glance. “But I accept your apology. And I can appreciate your concern.”

“Also remind me to never underestimate any of you.” She added, hoping to lighten the mood a little.

“I could say the same about you,” He smiled a little, optics watching the liquid. “I didn’t know you knew anything about Cortical Psychic Patches.”

“Ultra Magnus chronically cannot leave details out.” Lynn chuckled watching the last of the liquid slid out of the cylinder. 

“That should do it…” Ratchet sighed, setting the strange needle aside. “Now we wait.”

Chapter Text

Lynn found that as difficult as this lesson was, it was the one she liked best so far. It felt oddly hopeful to pour over the increases in Optimus’ vitals. It also helped that while Ratchet was decent in passing on linguistic knowledge, he was incredibly enthusiastic about his chosen field. 

“Here,” Ratchet tapped the screen. “You can see Optimus’ energon efficiency increase.”

“So…” Lynn squinted, trying to piece together the complex systems inner workings. “That means…the plague lowers efficiency and drains a cybertronian of energon?”

“No, not exactly,” Ratchet shook his head. “That’s a side effect that quickens the mounting problems. It’s main function is crippling key receptors in the brain module, forcing them to shut down and then wearing them out over time.”

“Hmmm….” Lynn squinted. “What does that do, exactly?”

“Essentially it causes damage to a vital part of a cybertronian. The brain module is one of the three vital interlinked parts that make up Rossum’s Trinity–though it’s only useful to explain the most used parts of our anatomy.”

“You lost me.” 

“Think of it as your mind.” He suggested. “It’s what houses your thoughts and processes and allows you to function.”

“Okay,” She nodded, jotting down hasty notes. “What are the other two?”

“The next is the Spark.” The medic continued, pulling up a detailed diagram of Optimus. He highlighted an area in the center of the chest and the screen showed a chest cavity with a pulsing blue light. “It’s a bit more complicated to find an organic equivalent, but this is what gives a cybertronain life. It consists of an energon unique to Cybertron and the well of Allsparks.”

Lynn paused in her scribbling. “You…get them from a well?”

“Yes.” He nodded.

“So…” Her eyes flicked back to the others. All safely occupied with their guardians. “Reproduction is asexual?”

“Mostly, yes.” He looked pleased at her observation. “Of the fragmentation variety, specifically. Sparks are fragments of Primus’ spark. And when one’s time is at an end, our Sparks return to the well.”

She frowned. “So…it’s all a constant cycle of rebirth?”

“Essentially.”

“So like reincarnation?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” The Medic snorted. “Over the millions of years there hasn’t been a single properly documented case of reincarnation.”

“But there’s scientific basis for the sparks fragmenting from Primus?” She crossed her arms.

“Admittedly it’s more an accepted theory,” Ratchet sighed. “But considering the extensive studies done on the subject, it’s clear that Sparks have fragmented from a shared source. Only very rarely do the sparks themselves fragment.”

“What happens then?” 

“That’s how you get twins.” 

“Huh.” Lynn uncrossed her arms and added to her notes. “So that’s the mostly bit.”

“No,” He plucked up the needle he’d used to inject the cure and began to disassemble it. “There’s been unusual cases among newer generations of Cybertronians reproducing sexually. Though these cases mostly happened in colonies. The leading theory was that it was an adaptation Cybertroninans underwent as they were cut off from the Well.”

Lynn paused in her notes again, frowning. This was a thought process she wasn’t sure she was ready to discuss in great detail. Especially not with so many people around.

“So what’s the third?”

“What?” Ratchet looked up from the needle parts he’d begun cleaning.

“Of Rossum’s Trinity,” She reminded him. “We covered the Brain module and Spark, so that leaves…”

“The Transformation Cog,” he supplied. “It’s what allows us to transform.”

“Mmmkay…” Lynn nodded. “Definitely no human equivalent.”

“It’s one of the more unique features of Cybertronians,” He slipped the cleaned parts onto a small tray. “Though, unlike the other two, we can technically live without them. We simply become stuck in one form.”

“Doesn’t seem so bad.” Lynn admitted. “Not great, but not life threatening. Like losing a limb.”

“No,” Ratchet shook his head, slipping the tray into the decontamination chamber. “It can be psychologically damaging. It’s place in the trinity is based on it’s significance to Cybertronians.”

“I guess I can see that.” She tapped the page of her notebook thoughtfully. “It’s what gave the Quintessons so much leeway in their work to reshape Cybertron.”

“Very good.” Ratchet nodded, starting up the chamber.

“Is…” She paused. “Was that related to the T-cog protest against Functionalism?”

“Yes…” His optics dimmed. “It was…”

She didn’t blame him for his reaction. There had been a classist regime disguised as a spiritual awakening called Functionalism. It placed emphasis on alt modes as one’s true purpose and calling in life. They were about as violent as the war accounts were, with so much disparity in the separation of working classes and the higher tiers of intellectuals. Obviously, not everyone liked the attempts to enforce that set of ideals, and it led to a protest of Cybertronains ripping out their T-cog’s outside the council halls in Iacon. Even with the lack of context of what the T-cog was, the graphic nature of the account had made sleeping after reading it difficult. Time for a change in subject.

“So…does the plague affect the T-cog and Spark too?”

The light returned a bit. “Not directly. The plague mostly works on shutting down the brain module. Coupled with the lost energon efficiency, it slows the body down. In order to keep going it would require nearly double the energon intake to sustain one–but that wouldn’t stop the mental shutdown or the pain receptors being crossed.”

“So they couldn’t leave on their own…” She guessed.”Either to isolate or get help.”

“And they would be more likely to infect others when the medics would take energon samples–assuming it was some other medical problem.”

“‘Geez.” Lynn shook her head. “That Megatron’s a twisted one.”

“Indeed.” Ratchet agreed. “And we are fortunate Bumblebee was clever enough to bargain a glimpse of the formula.”

“And to have a quick thinking medic to grab a screenshot.”

He smiled briefly. “Save your praises until after Optimus recovers.”

Optimus’s recovery was mercifully swift. By evening he was returning to his old self, thanking the team and reassuring the kids. It was strange how dignified he could be for someone still recovering. That couldn’t be universal, right? She glanced at Ratchet. No. He would definitely be cranky when ill. Doubly so if it kept him from working.

Lynn waved the kids and their guardians off as they headed back to their respective homes. Arcee was likely to stay–Jack’s Mom apparently worked late and no one wanted to suspect more was going on. 

The base felt quiet without them all though. Lynn leaned against one of the railings overlooking the medbay and communications. She’d found the lack of noise more rattling than she’d expected, her latest Ultra Magnus Magnum Opus left on the couch.

“You seem troubled.” Optimis observed. He was remaining on his berth for now. Ratchet was rather optimistic about his recovery, but wanted to be sure before he allowed Prime to do anything that might set his recovery back.

“Today’s given me a lot to think about.” She smiled dryly. 

“Are you perhaps considering changing to a medical career?” 

Lynn saw the smile, but it was gone so fast, she could’ve sworn she made it up. Maybe she should tell Ratchet? Optimus didn’t really joke much…At least, not that she could clearly remember.

“Think I’ll leave that to Ratchet,” Lynn chuckled. “And my vocation is vital, I’ll have you know.”

“I agree.” He nodded respectfully. 

“I…was going to set up a joke about someone needing to read Ultra Magnus’ works…” She sighed. “Should’ve saved that one…”

“Perhaps next time,” He agreed. “But what is on your mind?”

Lynn considered his question for a long moment. “A lot of things, honestly. Mostly it keeps going back to Megatron.”

“His fate may be unknown,” The Autobot leader admitted. “But rest assured, we will find out.”

“I still don’t understand…” She sighed, dropping her head into her hands. “He’s cold. Ruthless. Cruel. I get why some would be drawn to those traits–and the more I read about Cybertron, the messier it is. Having a strong figure to lead would be a big deal. That makes sense to me But…why him ?”

Optimus sighed. “Because he was not always as he is now. At least…he did not show that side of himself outside of combat. As a Gladiator, those were respected and admired qualities. It was believed that surviving in such an environment required them. And Megatron, above even his cruelty, is intelligent.”

Lynn shook her head. “But his power was superficial. Gladiators didn’t have any outside the ring. And from everything I’ve read about the politics of the time, there weren’t a lot of resources for him. So what did he use to get people to back him?”

“I think…” Prime mused. “I should lend you one of my books.”

Lynn blinked at the change in subject. “One of…yours?”

“Yes.” he nodded. “Though I have little time to read these days, I have kept those which I find most useful. Perhaps they will lend you insight into Megatron and the Decepticons.”

“Well…” She smiled lightly. “I’m sure they’re better reading than my current one. No offense to Ratchet’s reading list…it's just…I’d like to space out the Ultra Magnus chronicles a bit more.”

He didn’t laugh, but the warmth in his voice was clear and heartening. “I believe we can arrange that.”

Lynn was glad she had something to look forward to after the grueling workday. 

Bumblebee was under observation on Ratchet’s orders until the medic was satisfied there weren’t any impairments from the Psychic Patch. This left Lynn to hitch a ride with Bulkhead–something Miko wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about. In fairness, neither was the Librarian. Miko’s taste in bands and her preference for cranking the volume started the morning off with a headache. It was a bit sweet to see her and Bulkhead enthusing over bands together. Lynn just wished it wasn’t at the crack of dawn. 

Her email on the missing book was met with a professionally worded ‘We were hoping for better from a younger teacher’. More like they were hoping to cover their policy, staffing, and budget shortages by working her into the ground. Lynn decided against responding, lest she actually send a minefield of f-bombs. She could always implode her career tomorrow. As for today, there were still no hits on the #bookburn challenge. Maybe it would be the centerpiece of a bonfire for a weekend party? Lynn tried and failed not to dwell on it.

Burns was playing detective on the ground. What he hoped to accomplish was beyond her, but that was far out of her paygrade. Let the agent use government money to track down a missing library book. Actually, that might be the most efficient use of government money Lynn had ever seen.

The mystery vehicle was still there–a note of apology on it from it’s owner about needing to hire a tow for it next payday. That was one thing off her mind at least. 

Arcee was her pickup today.

“You’re lucky I’m book free today.” Lynn commented dryly, donning the helmet.

“I’m who they could spare.” The femm’s voice commed through. “The kids are teaching Bulkhead and Bumblebee how to play basketball.”

“Glad to hear Bee’s alright,” Lynn sighed.  “How’s Optimus?” 

“Basically recovered.” The bike hummed. “Though Ratchet has him going easy for now. He’ll probably be in the field on the next mission.”

“ Insane. ” She resisted the urge to shake her head. That was a mistake she’d made already, and it had put her so off balance, it was a wonder Arcee kept them both upright.

“We don’t dent easy.” 

Privately, Lynn wondered if that applied to Megatron. He’d been a Gladiator–a fact mentioned repeatedly by Ultra Magnus. Still, would it be too much to hope that the major unifying force of the Decepticons was dead? 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah, sorry,” She grimaced, realizing she’d fallen back into her own thoughts. “Just spaced out a bit.”

“You wanna go over your words?” Arcee offered. “I doubt you got the chance riding with Miko and Bulk.”

“ Yes. ” Lynn groaned. “Absolutely.”

Lynn’s mind was suitably mushy by the time they made it back to base. Arcee had expanded the topics of conversation Lynn had only read about. Also the pronunciations. Funny how the glyphs came easier than the sounds. Part of it was her inability to make certain mechanical sounds with her mouth. Though even if she were, she wasn’t sure she’d understand them. 

The kids were cheering the other bots as they played an altered version of basketball. The ball was more a wad of scrap metal than anything, but it didn’t seem to bother anyone. It also came as somewhat of a relief to know that they weren’t dribbling it. Arcee joined the spectators, leaving Lynn to track down Optimus.

After needling Ratchet about visiting hours, she was sent to his quarters. Though they were a few doors away from her own, it still felt incredibly strange to her. It had been the one universally unspoken rule that his room was off-limits. Even Miko had respected that. Still, Lynn had to remind herself, she was invited.

Her fist rapped softly against the metal. She could have kicked herself for how timid it sounded. Optimus must have either been expecting her, or sharper than she gave him credit for. Before she could gather her courage to attempt a better knock, the door slid open.

“Lynn,” His voice was polite, but warm. “Come in.”

Optimus Prime’s personal quarters were almost disappointing after everyone else's. It reeked of military cookie cutter–a single berth, a plain desk and chair, and no pictures or decoration beyond that. Not even cybertronian equivalent to sticky notes. The only thing that redeemed it in her opinion was the bookshelf. Though plain, it did at least show there were other things the Autobot leader might do after retreating to his quarters in the evening. 

It was from that shelf he plucked several volumes. He briefly considered their titles before moving them to a smaller version Ratchet had found and repurposed. Apparently there were bots roughly human size on Cybertron at one point. The transfer of data took a few minutes, leaving Lynn to fiddle with the hem of her blouse.

“So…what kind of books are we talking?” 

“I believe the best way to understand why Megatron gained such a following is to read his own works.”

Lynn’s fingers froze. “He…wrote a book?”

“He did.” Optimus nodded gravely. “As well as speeches and a collection of free thoughts. He was well known for it.”

She shook her head. “And that’s what got him where he is?”

“It’s what started the Decpeticons and the war.”

He handed her the little tablet, leaving her to flick through the new entries. There were others among the works of Megatron, hopefully something lighter–though Lynn had to wonder if it was something Optimus Prime deemed important enough to hold onto. One caught her eye, bringing a groan from her mouth.

“Are you alright?”

Lynn held up the pad, scrolling up at him. “ ‘You’re Being Decieved’ . That’s why they call themselves Decetpicons?”

A rare smile formed briefly on his face. “Correct. I had not expected you to grasp that so quickly.”

“It’s so dumb!” She groaned. “It’s begging to be made fun of!”

“Hmm…” Optimus hummed thoughtfully. “There were many before the war who felt the same. But it has ceased being a laughing matter.”

Lynn sobered at that. “I suppose it has.”

“I hope that you will answers in them.” Optimus gestured. “And perhaps you will share your findings with me.”

“Like a book club?” Something in her warmed a little. She had been trying so desperately to get one going again. She’d missed the sharing of opinion and perspectives.

“I suppose so,” He nodded. “Though I must admit you read faster than I do.”

“It’s a good place to escape the real world for a while.” She glanced back at the list of titles. “Throwing myself into learning something, not specifically a war.”

“I understand.” Optimus reassured. “Though if you wish to talk about anything, I will gladly listen.”

Lynn glanced back to the tablet, debating. She was used to being alone in struggles. How many times had she reached out as a child to only grasp air? Yet she’d admitted to herself that she’d come to care about these aliens. Had Optimus died the other day…a lump formed in her throat, tight and painful.

“Thank you…” She managed to choke out the words. “In…time, I think…”

“Take all that you need.”

Chapter Text

Megatron was a good writer. That irritated Lynn as she scribbled notes at the ends of passages. Even with her limitations in the language, his words were easily understood and persuasive. Part of it, she didn’t doubt, came from using the simpler parts of Neocybex to impart his ideas across wider populations. In terms of scope, there wasn’t any cybertronian who wouldn’t understand the base of his words or the tone of his thoughts–which was not a small feat. Communication was a complex skill. 

Moreover, each time she re-read a piece, new layers of meaning fell through. What was a line of soft rebuke against the system could be read as passive aggressive. Or politely hostile. But always sound and passionate. And the worst of it, was she found herself agreeing with him. The system Megatronous described was broken, corrupt, and needed to be fixed. Could it not be fixed, torn down and built anew.

By the fourth essay, Lynn was questioning her own sanity. This was the mech that turned into a warlord? A mech so hellbent on murdering his rival, he dreamed of little else? The Kaon of his mind had been a frightening place, far removed from the utopia the Author spoke of. 

“I need a break.” She decided, setting the datapad aside.

The walk through base was quiet. Optimus was still under base arrest per Ratchet’s orders, with Bulkhead and Arcee taking their charges and Raph home. Bumblebee stood to the side, optics whirring. 

“How you doing, Bee?” Lynn called.

The yellow mech started.

“Sorry,” She winced. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

He hummed a lighthearted sound. At least what she thought was one. He looked a little sheepish.

“You’re not going too stir crazy?” 

He made a ‘so-so’ gesture, tipping his hand back and forth. 

“Fair. But hopefully not too much longer, yeah?”

“Bumblebee should be clear tomorrow to take you and Raph to school,” Ratchet answered, moving a small shipping container of parts. “I’m sure you can survive until then.”

The affirmative chirp warmed Lynn’s heart. Good. She’d been a little worried about the repercussions herself. She couldn’t imagine what that kind of trip into another person’s mind would do to her. Let alone what it might do to the sweet scout being in Megatron’s mind. 

“What you got there?” She asked Ratchet, forcing her mind away from the warlord. She was trying to forget him for a few hours, not steep further in his mind. 

“They sent us more scrap,” Ratchet grumbled. “So I’m going to see if I can use any of it. Unlikely, but we’ll see.”

Lynn shot Bee a grin. His squinting optics seemed to catch her meaning. Ratchet seemed to have a gift for turning ‘junk’ into things human scientists would lose their minds over. She had little doubts those too would become some interesting tool of some kind. Maybe replacements for things Bulkhead broke.

Bee made a questioning beep. Lynn wasn’t sure who he was asking, but she looked at Ratchet. He frowned.

“No, I haven’t heard word from Fowler. Has he contacted you, Lynn?” 

“Nope.” She shook her head. “Kinda hope it stays quiet for a bit. Maybe like a day?”

“Quiet? Puh-lease.” Ratchet snorted. 

“Right, forgot who I’m rooming with.” She snorted. “But a girl can dream, right?”

Bee chimed something with a little shrug.

“I am being nice!” Ratchet snipped.

Lynn traded another look with the yellow mech. 

“Fine!” He shoved the container towards Bumblebee. “ You can sort these while I, being the nice mech I am , take Lynn to get food.”

Bee groaned, shoulders slumping. Lynn had to bite back a laugh while Ratchet keyed something into the computer. Poor Bee.

“You know I can just make some ramen, right?” She asked the medic, unable to hide her grin.

“Hardly nutritional.” He scowled. “According to Jack, his mother– a human medical professiona l–doesn’t even consider those a real meal.”

“Jack really needs to learn to lie…” She grumbled, watching the medic twist into his ambulance form. “KO Burgers isn’t the height of nutritional value either.”

“We’re taking the bridge.” He announced smugly, driver door opening. 

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Lynn asked as she pulled the seatbelt on.

“You’ll find out.” Was her only answer.

Lynn was suddenly glad Ratchet had deemed her Ramen insufficient. They’d bridged a short way out of Austin, taking a leisurely drive to a place Lynn had been only once in her life, but had yet to forget. The picnic food truck park. She’d gone with Heather as a treat for graduation, gorging herself on the various treats each truck and trailer offered. It had been glorious. 

“Heard these were popular,” Ratchet offered. “Grab something and we’ll set up for a bit.

Lynn didn’t need much encouragement. With her shiny government issued credit card in hand, she lined up in front of the taco truck, mouth watering. She’d almost tried to order in neocybex before her brain corrected to her pool of Spanish knowledge. A tourist laughed knowingly, patting her on the back. 

“I forget which language I’m using half the time too.” He chuckled. 

There were laughs shared and Lynn got her brown bag of delicious smelling tacos. She didn’t stop there. Other food trucks beckoned with promising treats. She hit up two more before rejoining Ratchet.

“Hungry?” He asked wryly. 

“A bit.” 

He heaved a sigh, and started the drive. Lynn waited patiently. She didn’t have to wait long. He’d chosen a lake with reasonable foliage to cover his presence. She slipped out and he transformed to sit with her, optics taking in the lake.

“Didn’t expect you to want to observe the locals,” Lynn hummed, cheerfully fishing out her first taco. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Going out around Jasper without Burns is still risky right now,” He pointed out, leaning back. “But keeping you cooped up between base and school seems like a bad idea too.”

“ Thank you .” Lynn glanced back at the lake. “Someday I won’t be such a pain in the Aft.”

“You know Optimus doesn’t think of you that way.” He huffed. “Nor do any of the rest of us…most of the time…”

“I know.” She took a bite of her taco, relishing in the crunch of lettuce. “I’m more a responsibility to y’all. But I really hate it.” 

Ratchet looked down, a bit startled. 

“I hate needing help.” She clarified.

“Hmm…” He frowned, but didn’t argue.

“But I do appreciate it…the help, I mean.” Lynn continued. “I just…wish I needed less of it.”

“Stubborn.” The medic grunted. “Do you even know how to ask for help?”

“Do you?” She countered dryly.

The glare was almost as delicious as the taco. There was something incredibly fun about picking on Ratchet. Maybe it was his reaction. Maybe it was that she knew he wouldn’t hold it against her. She wasn’t really sure. 

“We asked your government for assistance.”

“As if!” Lynn smirked. “ Had to be an Optimus move.”

Ratchet frowned. “And what about you?”

“I also asked the government for help.” 

“Puh-lease. More like Fowler strong armed you into a deal.”

“So we’re even on the ‘not stubborn’ board.” She shrugged, reaching for a second taco. “Though…I did ask you to teach me Neocybex.” 

Ratchet opened his mouth to argue. It shut just as quickly. Grumbles leaked out of the sides as he turned to look back at the lake.

“So a win for me?” She teased.

“ Yes .” He gave an exasperated sigh. “That’s a win for you.”

Lynn laughed, eyes watching the quiet lake. She wondered if there would be more like these. Friends resting underneath trees and stars in a pocket of peace. If Arcee had managed to end Megatron, if the other Decepticons were dealt with, and her own ghosts dealt with…would there be more of these?

She paused at the doughnuts, the realization smacking her between the eyes. Once the Decepticons were gone…then what? Fowler was quick to point out the need to have the Autobots to face down the mutual threat. If Team Prime took down that threat, what was holding the American Government to their word?

“Hey…” She looked up at Ratchet. His optics had been on the skyline before her voice reached him. Once they were back on her, Lynn found her mind shying away from the terrible truth she would have to hear. If the question was asked, Ratchet would answer, and answer honestly. And she suddenly didn’t want to know. If the answer was what she thought it would be…

“Seriously,” She quirked her lips into a smile. “Thanks.”

Lynn didn’t want to think about it. Where the Autobots would go if there were no Decepticons on Earth. What would happen to her life now that the damned aliens had managed a foothold in her heart. It was childish, but it was still true. If she could just not think about that for now…Just enjoy the time she had…

“You’re welcome.” The medic’s response was awkward, clearly more used to her sarcasm and spite than her naked gratitude.

Lynn turned back to the lake, stuffing a doughnut into her mouth. For the moment there was nothing else. Just her, a lake, food, and a grumpy alien robot she somehow came to see as a friend. Everything else could wait until tomorrow.

“You know…” her mouth moved with her mind, trying to engage in the here and now. “My name actually refers to this kind of body of water.” She gestured to the lake. 

“Does it?” Ratchet’s optics turned back to it. “It looks like a puddle to me.”

“In fairness, we probably look like ants to you guys.” 

“More like Minicons.” He corrected. “Give or take. Raphael is so small, I’m not even sure what to compare him to.”

“He’s still got room to grow.” Lynn mused, now enjoying the taste of the sweet blueberry pastry. 

“Hmm.” Ratchet hummed non-committedly. “What’s it called? This kind of body of water?”

“A lake.” She smiled. “Just self-contained bodies of water.”

“Why did you take that name?” He asked, tilting his head.

“I didn’t.” She laughed. “Mostly people go by the names their parents give them–though you can change them legally if you want.”

“Do you want to change yours?” 

The question surprised her a little. She’d not really considered the idea. At least, not outside of the concept of marriage–a concept she wasn’t wholly sold on, let alone the traditional surname change.

“I dunno,” Lynn shrugged. “I’d need something I really liked to want to change it. Something worth the trouble of all the paperwork I’d have to do.”

“Maybe Earth’s onto something there,” The medic grumbled. “The amount of mechs I’ve had who’ve changed their designations on a whim…I swear some do it just to spite me.”

“You guys pick your own then?” 

“Most do. A few stick with names given by caretakers, but usually it’s a chosen name.” Ratchet nodded. “Though some are a form of title, such as Prime.”

“Right, in honor of Primus.” Lynn followed the logic. “And the original 13?”

“Exactly.” He smiled brightly. “That is a name change bestowed only by the Matrix of Leadership or by Primus himself.”

“Then…who was Optimus before he was named Prime?”

“An archivist named Orion Pax.”

“ What ?” Lynn nearly dropped her last doughnut. 

Ratchet smiled, clearly pleased at the reaction. “Yes. Like you, Optimus was an archivist. It’s part of the reason he holds you in high regard.”

“I…” She stumbled over the new information. “Wait…he does ?”

“He does.” Ratchet confirmed. 

“I… Wow …” Lynn stared back at the lake. “That’s a little overwhelming, actually.” 

“I think he recognizes similar traits in you as were in his mentor.” The medic chuckled. “Though, I think you’re much grumpier than Alpha Trion was.”

“Wait…” She paused, trying to deal with the whiplash. “That’s….I…” She flung her hands up helplessly.

“Well now, I finally found out how to render you speechless.” Ratchet grinned. “So is that a win for me?”

“Aft.” She glared. 

He laughed. 

Lynn found herself smiling too. She could let him have the win…this time.

Chapter Text

The morning had started off so well too…Lynn had gotten a wonderful night of sleep, woke up before her alarm, and was able to work in a cup of coffee while she dressed and readied for the day. It was hard not to be in a good mood. She’d saved a second set of doughnuts from the food trucks and was merrily munching while she ran through her notes. Forming the glyphs in her own hand was still more time consuming than her quick loops of crammed handwriting, but she was improving. 

Bulkhead gave a cheery “See you later!” before taking off. It was a relief to not have to join him. Sweet as he was, Lynn wasn’t sure she could handle another morning of ear shattering indie bands in surround sound at Miko approved volumes. Her slim threads of sanity might actually snap. 

So she stretched and waited for Bumblebee. Doubtless Ratchet was fussing over him, giving him a final check. Probably for the best. Still, if the medic made them late, Lynn was never going to let him hear the end of it.

After 10 minutes she started to wonder. Had they found something wrong? Bee was typically pretty punctual. Even accounting for a last check, this seemed a bit excessive. 

No. She was doing it again. Overthinking for nothing. If she let her mind go wild on speculation she’d just make herself sick. No, another 5 minutes maybe.

After another 10 she started to seriously worry. Lynn jogged around the base, only to find it…quiet.
Eerily so…
She’d known Optimus had been cleared for duty. Doubtless he was making the rounds somewhere. Arcee and Bulkhead had taken the kids–so where were Ratchet and Bee?

Her phone rang–Burns.
“Hello?” Even the response to the call felt oddly loud.

“The hell are you?” Burns’ voice was tight–that military tone of ‘I’m pissed, but I’m being professional’. “You safe?”
“I’m at base.” Lynn glanced around. “Bee was supposed to take us–have you checked on Raf?”

“You’re the one on a military base with restraining orders out on people actively threatening to kill you.” Burns snorted.

“He’s a minor!” She snapped back. “Look, I’m going to see if I can find Ratchet or someone–find Raf, will you?” She hung up, not giving him the chance to argue.

She found Bumblebee staring at one of the objects he’d been sorting through last night. He reached past them for an object Ratchet had since engineered into a working piece of equipment. His optics seemed to flicker before his digits crushed it around the middle.

“Bee?”

He turned, looking startled. For a moment, the object in his hand rose, as if he were about to throw it. Then recognition sparked in his optics.

“You forget about being back on chauffeur duty?” 

He made a series of beeps and sounds–thoughtful and clearly a little distressed. Lynn put a hand up, slowing the tirade of words she couldn’t parse out.

“Why don’t you go get set up on the med berth and I’ll find Ratchet, okay?” 

Bee nodded, giving another set of beeps–these a bit more relieved. Lynn trotted off, chewing on her lip. That wasn’t good…

Lynn hated being right. Raf had been picked up by Burns and bridged in by Ratchet. Ratchet was running a shut down and discussing the procedure and concerns with Optimus and Raf while Lynn and Burns made calls. Burns to explain the absence of the school librarian to the school and then to his superiors–Lynn to Raff’s Mother.

“Yes, Ma’am. Raf was very kind to assist me with the computers. He’s incredibly skilled with them.” Lynn laughed as the woman spoke. “Hmm. Si . Very talented. And his study habits should help him immensely in his future. I’m terribly sorry I forgot to inform you ahead of time. I’ll make sure he’s fed and compensated for his grades and as part of his academic record.”

Raf glanced nervously between Lynn and Bee. She felt for the kid. His mother was a kind sounding woman, and she was clearly proud of her young son. He might not be as reticent to lie as Jack, but only by a slim margin. Right now, his worry for his Autobot Guardian outweighed his discomfort with lying to his mother. But only just. 

Lynn felt a pang of envy as she hung up with his mother. It was still hard to see good moms being… well good . And then she felt disgusted with herself for felling that way. All kids deserved loving parents. Kids like Raf especially so.

She turned to Ratchet as he came in, burying the ugly feelings for now. Maybe someday she could try therapy. Though with the weight of Government grade secrets on her shoulders, probably not. 

Ratchet’s shoulder plates slumped. He spared Lynn a look and shook his head.
“It seems there were some temporary psychological side effects.” The medic explained. “Bumblebee is seeing visions of Megatron.”
Lynn clamped her mouth shut in time to stop herself from saying something acidic about meddling with dangerous experimental mind science. Ratchet didn’t need that, it wouldn’t help Bumblebee, and it would probably upset Raf further. 

“You said temporary.” She pressed. A safe segway.
“This forced shutdown should force Bumblebee’s mind to rest and recover.” He explained.
Sometimes Ratchet said things so jarringly mechanically minded it threw her. It was like talking about a computer update you had to do to keep your unit running, rather than a medical doctor putting a patient into a coma for… healing mental trauma? Damn. If only she could do that.
The base was near eerie with just Raf, Ratchet, and a sleeping Bumblebee around. Raf settled in to chat at Bumblebee for the ongoing hours, and Lynn decided it was best to leave him to it while she read nearby.

Raf was a gentle kid. And his chatter was kind and oddly soothing in it’s own way. It reminded her of her little brother’s early years. The endless talk of a young mind that saw wonder in everything and wanted to share each and every thought with his family. Unlike Raf’s more specific talk about his sister, Lynn’s brother had curbed the habit entirely. He’d had to. Shawn hated the inane chatter. Hated the noise that wasn’t his music or radio shows. Resented children. Even the ones that were likely his.
Lynn stared at Raf, a new horror dawning on her. Her brother had stopped talking over time. And she’d failed to realize it wasn’t just part of growing up. He’d been intimidated into silence. She felt sick. How many little conversations had been stolen from them? Would he always struggle with the urge to shut himself down? To make himself small and silent for no reason other than not to cause trouble?
“Rafael,” Ratchet paused at the berth, speaking kindly, but matter-of-factly. “I’m afraid Bumblebee can’t hear you in power down mode.”
She wanted to hit Ratchet–to fling her little tablet square at his big head. It didn’t matter that the medic wasn’t being malicious. It still set off an anger deeper than she’d realized she still possessed.

“It’s getting late,” Ratchet went on. “Why don’t I bridge you home to your family?”
“Because I told Bee I’d stay,” The boy countered. “He’s family too.”

And Lynn relaxed. Raf wasn’t her little brother. He had a good family. He didn’t fear refuting authority when he needed to. He didn’t need her to lash out at Ratchet for crimes the Autobot hadn’t actually committed. 

She sunk back onto the couch, content to listen and let the boy advocate for himself. Because Ratchet would listen. And he did. Even if he seemed impatient or like he didn’t understand Raf’s emotional argument, Ratchet listened.

Lynn smiled to herself as she picked up her notebook and began writing down a quote from Megatron to discuss with Optimus later. Raf was on to something. Though her heart ached with the reminder of what getting more attached meant, she knew it didn’t really matter. Like Raf, she too had come to consider the Autobots as more than merely inconvenient truths. More than just strange people. They were people she cared about. And she suspected they also cared beyond the responsibility of the matter. 

But did she think of them as family like Raf did? She paused in her notation. That was harder to say. Family had a… complicated connotation to her. She’d always done the same equating that Ratchet had–Family were your relatives. Raf had put a distinction between them. And the distinction made her oddly uncomfortable.
If family were a social group of people you were close to on deep levels… 

“I’m going to the supply vault to see if I can find parts to repair this.” Ratchet’s announcement, and holding up the thing Bumblebee had crushed, cut her self reflection mercifully short. “You know what that means?”
“Don’t touch anything.” Raf said dutifully, if amused. 

Ratchet glanced at Lynn. She stared back. Was he expecting her to make a similar declaration? Stubbornness set in immediately at the idea.

“ I’m not a sparkling.” She drawled, almost daring him to snipe back at her.

He didn’t. Rather the mech frowned, but turned to go on his way. She watched him go, more perplexed. He’d seemed to want to say something …

“You’re talking a lot in their language.” Raf noted. 

“It helps to learn it.” She looked back down at him. He’d taken to posting up with his laptop on the little step up to the med-bay berth, a short distance from Bumblebee. He grinned at her. 

“So when are you gonna teach us?”

“Don’t you have enough schoolwork?” Lynn joked.

“Might be nice to talk to the bots in their own language. I think Ratchet likes it when you do.” The pre-teen noted.

“What makes you say that?” Lynn asked.

“He smiles more.” Raf shrugged. 

“You sure he’s not grimacing?” She chuckled. There was something in Raf’s assertion that bothered her, but she didn’t want to introspect about that just now. She’d just halted other introspection to save herself from overloading.
“What are you reading now?” Raf asked.
“Optimus lent me some of Megatron’s works.” Lynn looked at her battered spiral notebook of notes. “He might end up regretting that…”
“Megatron was a writer?” Raf looked surprised.
“I know, threw me for a loop too,” Lynn agreed, settling next to him. “Worse, he’s an incredible writer. And given what I heard of him through the patch, I don’t doubt he was a decent orator.”

“What did he write about?” The boy frowned. “The decepticons?” 

“I think those come later.” Lynn shook her head. “It started out as a call out of the caste system and political issues. This… This is all pre-decepticons. They haven’t even come up as a proper idea yet. Mostly it’s a call to the establishment.”

She leaned back. “From what I’ve read thus far, this started as a period called Functionism, where Cybertronians were under a harsh caste system based on their alt modes–which isn’t something a Cybertronian choses. They’re sort of… born with them.” 

“Sort of?”

“It’s…” Lynn struggled. “More complex than I can even comprehend, let alone explain. Best I can do is that Cybertronians have a sort of general form for their alt modes. They can alter to fit into other planets design wise–hence Bee looks like Camero here. That’s not much different from cutting or styling hair a certain way. But just like you can’t make your hair a different hair type altogether, Cybertronian’s aren’t changing their core alt mode. And if you were born with an alt mode that’s like a scientific instrument or something highly specific, you were in the upper classes. Bots with more general forms tended to end up in the middle, and if your form was common like a memory stick or something like a forklift, you tended to go into the lower rungs as a laborer. All of those followed with less rights and status. Megatron was a Miner out of Kaon–among the lowest rungs.”

She sighed. “And right now, I don’t disagree with a single thing he’s written. It’s simple eloquence you can’t ignore.”

“Like what?” Raf asked, clearly skeptical.

Lynn flipped through her notes, finding a translated quote. “‘ The foundations of your city were dug by our limbs. The walls of every towering building in Iacon were created by us. The ore that makes medical equipment for your academies and medical facilities was taken by us. The heavy lifting and intense labor we do for Cybertron earns us nothing but the disdain of other castes, because they believe we are less than them. How long do you intend to look down upon the workers who had some part in the creation of everything you use? ’”

Raf stared at her, mouth open. “ Megatron said that?”

Lynn nodded. “More or less. I’m curious to see where the shift happens from Champion of the lower castes to Warlord of a planetary civil war.”

“What do you think it was?” He asked. “That made him go evil?”

She considered it for a long moment. “I think… it’s complicated. And I’m still learning about it all. But… There comes a point in a bad situation where something has to be done. Whatever Megatron did… his choice led him to who he became.”

A shiver ran down her spine. Choices. She’d made hard ones. She had hoped they’d start being fun ones–where to eat, who to date, which library job she wanted to have. Maybe a house if she ever got out from under student debt. Instead, they were all responsibilities and burdens and burning, twisting, painful things.

She stared at the lines of quotes and wondered… what if it was her ? Would she have been so angry at the disenfranchisement she’d kill? There was an ugly part of her, deep in her chest that gave her an awful answer. Maybe .

“Bee?” Raf’s tone of voice made her head snap up. It was concern, suspicion and fear wrapped into one. And given Bumblebee was now fiddling with the ground bridge–

Lynn reached down and pulled Raf back on instinct. She could smell menthol  again–the phantom reminder of what fear was meant to smell of. She was going to be sick–Bumblebee was walking through the groundbridge and she was holding Raf from running after him, limbs shaking, and all she could do was choke back her own nausea.

“Ratchet!” She managed to shout. Raf stopped struggling against her. He seemed to calm under the idea that she, the adult here, was doing the right thing.

“What did you do?” Ratchet asked, sounding as incredulous as he was angry. A workable combination.

“He just woke up and… left .” Lynn looked up at the medic.

“He was in forced shutdown…” Ratchet looked back at the groundbridge. “Where does he think he’s off to?”