Dear Brother (TFP/RID & Reader)

Chapter 21

"You dealt with one of his cases before."

(Y/n) sits with her father alone in one of the unused meeting rooms. Before her, copies of the documents she obtained from Bumblebee are laid out for both of them to see. The room is quiet as Optimus shuffles through the papers, the interest in his eyes getting more evident each time. It feels rather uncanny to see the man she looked up to as a father now is sitting down as a lawyer just like her. A tiny part of her wants to drop the charade and converse with him like they used to back home.

This place, however, is not their home—hasn't been hers for a long while, at least.

"I see." He puts the papers down, eyebrows furrowed. "I did, yes, but it was a long time ago, (Y/n)."

"Did you know that it was him when you went to the shelter house?" She inquires while pointing at the mugshot on the paper. "It was him right?"

The look Optimus has on his face always ends up as a mystery to (Y/n). Neutral and undiscriminating, most of the time, but what his eyes reflect says an entirely different thing. She smiles a little, remembering the times she'd sit in his office while he talked with his clients and staff; the air of competence and professionalism radiating from him, too, which she used to call 'cool'.

"I suspected." Optimus answers at last, and she knows to trust his words. "Although I avoided the subject because I did not want to alarm him nor your mother."

She nods, understanding his stance. He reorganizes the papers and pushes them towards (Y/n). Their conversation goes on a little while; her asking him any details he remembers of Starscream, or anything in particular that stands out. It's easy enough for (Y/n) to deduce that time has not been kind to her—nor her father, who tries his best to recall everything.

"There was another person," He says, clasping his hands together on the table, "the mastermind of the whole operation. It was who I had focused on bringing down."

(Y/n) looks up from her notebook where she had messily scribbled all the relevant information she gets.

"The mastermind?"

"Yes." Optimus confirms with a nod, the look in his eyes aimed towards her. "Starscream never acted alone."

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From the ledger found in the warehouse, (Y/n) noted an address written on Smokescreen's entry. It was rather smudgy but still clear enough to get a complete address. The distance between the police station and the address is such a hassle, but it's the determination to find out that carries her through. The house sits in a quite well-known residential area. Most people with money would have built their house around here, and it's easy to see judging by the size of the houses alone. There was a time (Y/n) told her brother how nice it'd be if they could live in a house like these, where they could run around the big yard and slide down the stairs. Maybe someday, Smokescreen told her then, counting the money they got that day, maybe someday.

Funny how that someday has come but she's the only one living it.

(Y/n) steps closer to the closed, tall iron gates to find the bell. Once she finds it, she has to fight the hesitance to press the button. A few minutes pass by without any answer. Clutching onto her sling bag tighter, (Y/n)'s heart races in anticipation. Although it takes a little while, one of the gates finally slides open slightly, revealing the figure of a slightly older woman with black hair tied up in a high bun. The moment (Y/n) sets her eyes on her, they widen in shock, and her mouth feels dry.

Of all the people in this world, it had to be Jack's mother.

---

Sitting inside the living room of Jack's childhood house makes her heart ache. He had yet to tell her of the story of his childhood; about his family, where he grew up, his dreams. The pictures hanging on its walls tell a long story, one that she had yet to hear coming from him as well. (Y/n) stands, hugging herself as her gaze lingers on a specific framed photo. Her grip tightens, and her lips pursed together as the memory replays in her head. Who would've thought that this is how their destiny crosses once again?

Upon hearing footsteps emerging from her right, she watches as Mrs. Darby walks out of the kitchen with two mugs in her hands, still steaming hot. (Y/n) murmurs a quiet thank you when she receives one mug from her. The older woman makes herself comfortable on the couch, in which (Y/n) follows suit by sitting across her. The awkwardness not a second later surrounds them.

"Jack told me about you." She starts the conversation with that small smile on her face, a slightest bit of hesitance is present there. "He wasn't kidding when he said you are pretty."

(Y/n) returns the smile with her own, feeling the heat on her palms coming from the mug. "Thank you." She replies. "It's good to finally meet you in person, Mrs. Darby."

"The feeling's mutual, (Y/n)." She takes a sip of her tea then looks back at her. "How are you finding the city? What brings you here?"

Setting down the mug on the coffee table, (Y/n) entwines her own fingers together, trying to push the emotions in her heart down. "It changes a lot, though not surprising." She begins her answer. "But I'm actually here to put a criminal to jail on behalf of my brother."

The look given by the older woman clearly tells her of the confusion. Before Mrs. Darby can respond, (Y/n) continues. "Mrs. Darby, I found your address in a logbook belonging to the said criminal."

Then, her eyes widened in shock.

"How...?"

That part of the question, she finds, is hard to answer. (Y/n)'s eyes rest on that worried yet motherly gaze that the other person has—it reminds her very much of her own mother. For a few moments, she glances at the one photo frame on the wall with her young self in the picture; her and Smokescreen.

"Do you remember those two street children in that photo right there?"

Mrs. Darby instinctively turns to look at the same frame she did, her eyes soon dart back and forth from it to the young woman a few times.

(Y/n) smiles without hiding the pain in her own eyes. "We all ate and loved the cupcakes."

She reaches out for her bag to take out her phone, scrolling through her gallery to show her the photo of the ledger page. The photo is focused on a particular entry detailing a transaction; a transaction of organ purchase, written with her brother's name and Jack's.

"No, it can't be possible." Mrs. Darby muttered in disbelief, looking up to (Y/n). "The doctor told me that the heart came from an in-patient who passed away! I-I just had to pay a little extra to push his name up the list, and I—"

(Y/n) retracts her hand and smiles sadly. "You didn't know." She replied. "Neither did Jack. He needed a new heart, I understand."

Though, it doesn't change the fact that the truth torments her.

"I loved my brother." (Y/n) continues, trying to keep the tears at bay whilst Mrs. Darby across from her is covering her mouth to muffle her own sobs. "I still do, even now that I finally learned that he's gone without living out the rest of his childhood."

Her dam finally breaks as she covers her face with her hands, trembling.

(Y/n) thinks how she can ever face Jack now without feeling this overwhelming ache in her heart.

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a/n: dang I haven't updated in forever ;-;