Unforeseen

Chapter 5

I do not own Transformers, only my OC's.

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Chapter 5

Wind whipped at my face. Hail pelted my skin. Rain soaked me to the bone. Lighting danced upon the clouds and thunder clapped ferociously.

It was only ten in the morning but the sky was black as night.

I saw it, that dark spiral arcing from the heavens. I heard its menacing howling. Its will for destruction.

My eyes snapped open and I shot upright. Next I knew I was on the ground with a mighty crash. All about me the world spun.

There was a sharp bang and my uncle's face danced in my vision, his voice lost in the roaring winds.

Why was he here? We had to get somewhere safe! It was coming!

I could hear the howling. That dreadful howling.

I felt my uncle's tight embrace. I felt the rocking. Was it here?

Slowly I came to realize the howls were my screams and the rocking from my uncle. He was speaking softly, reassuringly, to me.

Choking on sobs I clung to him, afraid if I let go he too would leave me.

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I awoke several hours later to the sun shining on my face and bandages wrapped around my head. Groaning I looked over at the clock.

12:23

Cursing I launched myself out of bed. I was incredibly late for school.

Not the brightest idea I had ever had. The world erupted into sparks and spun around me. Disoriented and light headed, my legs gave out and I crashed upom the wooden floor. Thankfully I did not land on my bad arm.

Footsteps raced up the stairs.

Crud.

I could not see who burst through my door. I only felt the strong arm that wrapped around my waist and helped me back into bed.

It wasn't until the sparks began to fade that I saw two faces before me. I didn't recognize either.

My heart plummeted and I was struck cold. Who were these strange men and why were they in my bedroom?

One of the faces came closer to mine.

Bam!

My fist collided with his face. He yelped and stumbled out of view. The second figure looked up momentarily before very gently pressing his hand on my forehead.

"It's all right, no need to be frightened." His voice was kind and soothing.

When my vision finally stabilized I was able to get a good look at him. He had light colored hair, an olive complexion and brilliant blue eyes glittering from behind a pair of spectacles. "Who are you?"

"You may call me Doctor Ratchet." He retracted his hand.

A doctor? Well, that explained the medical coat.

"You fell from your chair last night and hit your head," he explained, "Luckily there wasn't much damage."

A grunt came from across the room. "You sure about that?"

I realized it was the man I had wailed. "Ah! I'm so sor-" I sat up and found Ron resetting his nose. "Oh, it's you."

"You punch me and that's all I get?"

Doctor Ratchet chuckled, "A rather impressive punch I must say."

Ron growled and stalked out the room, muttering about something or another.

"Don't worry about him," the doctor stuck his hands in his pockets. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," I touched the back of my head and cringed. Ratchet had not been joking when he said I hit my head. I could feel the bump through the bandaging.

"I would normally tell you to rest, but I understand you don't like sleeping."

I sighed. "I like sleeping, I hate dreaming."

Doctor Ratchet nodded. Whether he actually understood or not I wasn't sure, but I didn't feel the need to enlighten him either.

"Thank you," I said, "for your help I mean."

"You're welcome," He looked out the window. I heard a truck engine and the crunch of gravel as it backed out the driveway. When the rumbling was gone Ratchet smiled down at me. "Try and be nice to Ron. He's a bit of a grump but he means well."

I nodded dumbly.

"Take it easy," Ratchet reminded me before leaving my room, shutting the door softly behind him.

For the remainder of the day I sat at my desk tinkering with Little Ironhide's faulty cannon starter. Other than Aunt Sarah popping in a few times I was more or less left to my own devices.

Ron remained a no show. I was beginning to feel bad about punching him.

By the time my uncle returned that evening I had the issue with the mini cannon solved. It only took a few minutes to put back together before I headed down to greet him.

"Hey you," Uncle Will wrapped me into a tight hug. "How're you feeling?"

"I'm fine." I returned the gesture. "Sorry for worrying you."

Uncle held me at arm's length, "I'm sorry I wasn't here today. I wanted to be, but we had training for the new recruits and –"

"It's alright," I cut him off. Rude, I know, but I felt the need to reassure him, "I understand."

"How's your hand? I heard you hit Ir – Ron."

I caught the stumbling, but I could not figure out what it meant. "I hit him and you're worried about me?"

"I'm more worried about your hand than his face. Ron's fine anyway. You hurt his pride more than anything."

"I didn't break his nose?"

"Not even close."

I sighed with relief. I felt better knowing he was mostly alright.

"He gave the twins a beating though." Uncle picked up Annabelle when she tugged on his pants.

"He what?" I was sure my mouth was hanging agape. And to think I had just been feeling bad for the punk.

Uncle chuckled, "they had it coming. The twins have a habit of acting up and don't stop until hit. It's normal."

The military really did enlist anyone these days.

"Mel," Uncle turned serious. "Ron is only looking out for you. Trust me when I say this, if he ever hurt you he'd find himself drawn and quartered."

The idea was somewhat reassuring.

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That night after everyone had gone to bed, I snuck outside. The truck wasn't in the driveway.

It turned out to be a rather lonely evening.

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