Tough Love

OUT OF THE SHADOWS

Static.

Everything, staticky.

Systems are slowly coming back online.

Optics are restored to working order, just barely.

Gray floor, gray walls; rather monotone. Oh, look, a light! Red? Usually not a good sign. Let's see, what else? Ah, stupid visual feed, work! By the Allspark, there we go!

As his vision cleared, the mech noted the finer details of his surroundings. He was lying in a large, square cell, of which the three seemingly open sides were blocked by a near-invisible energy barrier. He reached out to touch the closest one, to test power output.

"PRIMUS!"

The mech bolted upright onto his knees, cradling singed digits close to his chassis.

"That hurt!"

He flicked his servo, attempting to cool it off. The movement stung, but it had the desired effect.

"Okay, never doing that again."

Except maybe in an emergency.

The mech shuddered at the thought.

I hope it doesn't come to that.

Crackling static – not from him – alerted the mech to another presence. In one corner of the cell is a speaker and a video camera. Optics narrowing, the mech rises and approaches the devices.

"Hello?"

{Uh... I, hello? Can you hear me?}

"Yes."

{Oh. Good! Glad to hear! Standby for a moment.}

"It's not like I can go anywhere."

The response wasn't immediate.

{R...Right, sorry. I mean, not really, but... uh... oh, Captain! I...I was, uh... just about to... I... yes, ma-am, I'll shut up now.}

Silence fell for about a minute, then, suddenly, a whole other room, filled with humans and machines, appeared before the mech's optics.

"What the..."

{I would explain, but it's all pretty self-explanatory, really, and honestly, I don't have the time to go into detail. I am much more interested in what your kind are doing back here, Autobot.}

Bumblebee nearly jumped out of his plating. Not wanting to give these humans the satisfaction of scaring him, he merely blinked and forced himself to stand still. Except for his helm, which lowered so he could look at whoever he was conversing with. The set-up closest to his cell had a man positioned on each end. A third man, the one he was most likely talking to before, stood at attention behind a woman in the center. Pale skin stood out against a dark, sharp suit, and even sharper, darker eyes. Her hair is short, black with silver highlights, possibly due to aging despite appearing to be somewhere in her thirties or forties.

"And you are?"

{Jane Doe.}

Bumblebee cocked an optical ridge.

"Why do I have the feeling that isn't actually your name?"

{It isn't, and I plan to keep it that way. We don't need to know each other personally for this relationship to work.}

"Considering I'm pretty sure I know who you are, and you know that I know, I'd say we're far past personal. Your group left quite the nasty little impression the few times we swapped unpleasantries."