I Will Still Rise (Transformers Bayverse)

Chapter 2

The one hour it had taken for the product to arrive was also when Katherine and Anthony had left. According to one of the guys who helped her home, I learned that his name was Dominic, they had left saying that they needed time to cope with her loss of memory. I snickered at the bullshit excuse, they could try and say that all they wanted to. The voice and I knew the real truth as to why they didn't want to be here. Since Remington didn't remember them nor who they were to her, they couldn't craft her into the perfect tool like they had originally planned.

Which actually fell into my favor. If I could get both of Remington's parents to back off, that means that I could focus more on the events of the first movie. If Sam sold me the glasses, that means that he had already bought Bumblebee from the crap car dealership, drove to the lake party, and then drove Mikaela home. This also means that the soldiers have already been attacked by Blackout and Scorpinok, the Secretary of Defense has asked for help on identifying Frenzy's signal, the soldiers are on the run with Mahfouz back to his village so that they can call the Pentagon for a ride back home.

If I had a way, maybe I could hack into one of the call centers over in Qatar to intercept the call and give Remington's credit card information. Wouldn't that be something? Getting a call from a little girl you don't know who gives you her card info and connects you to the Pentagon? That would surely get me on Sector Seven's radar for sure.

But right now, I had more pressing matters. Like going to the mailbox and getting those glasses.

I was startled when a tan box came into my line of sight and I lit up when I realized that it was the glasses I had bought off of eBay. I looked up at Dominic and gave him a bright and wide smile before I briefly hugged him and ran back to my room.

I carefully opened up the box, making sure not to cut myself with the sharp edge of the box cutter, and rummaged through the tissue paper. I had found return shipping labels in case I had found the product to be unsatisfactory. I chuckled at that thought and listened to the impatience of the voice in my head telling me to grab the glasses. 'Patience, they aren't going anywhere at the moment.' I chuckled rather amused by the all of the buzzing around the voice was doing inside of my head before I came into contact with the frame of the glasses.

I pulled them out of the box and stared at them with awe. I'm pretty sure that the Hallelujah chorus was singing somewhere off in the background somewhere, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that right now, I had the coordinates for the Allspark even though I didn't need them. Which hopefully made me part of the story. I smiled and put the glasses on top of my head before opening up my laptop.

I typed into the search engine for the Qatar call center and immediately my happy mood went down the drain. How many call centers did they have? How in the hell was I supposed to find the right one before the soldiers made a call? I groaned and slammed my head down on the table, greatful that the glasses hadn't broken, but nonetheless very upset.

"Why couldn't I have Remington's smarts? She's a genius. I'm sure that she could figure out how to not only hack into the call center, but enter her card information easily for Lennox to use to contact the Pentagon." I grumble, upset with myself. I stayed like that for a few seconds before I heard the voice make a sound as though she were clearing her throat. 'I can help you. Let me take over.' She said confidently.

I considered my options for a moment before giving her an answer. Should I trust the voice in my head? What if she does something that will ruin the plot of the first movie? Will we be able to get to Lennox and his team in time? There was so much uncertainty filling up inside of me, and I knew that I had to rely on the voice even if I didn't like it. I don't like to depend on others unless I absolutely have to. I have been independent my whole previous life, and I don't know if I really want that to change.

But I knew that it had to. Not just for me, but for Sam, Mikelea, the Autobots, Will and his team, but most importantly Remington. I owe Remington everything that I have. I made her loose her arm and her set of lungs without even meaning to. I killed her when I entered this world, and took over her body. I've done so many terrible things to her that I've essentially ruined her life.

The least I can do is let her take the wheel and trust that she won't steer the both of us wrong.

The least I can do is give her a chance to prove herself. Not only to me but to herself as well.

The least I can do is let her lift up my weaknesses with her strengths and defend her weaknesses with my own strength.

With that in mind, I knew that she would keep us safe. I know that she will help us aid those who are stronger and more experienced than we are.

I know that she will help lift us up.

When I was given back the wheel, I could feel Remington's anxiety as though it were my own. She was nervous as to whether or not she did a good job and intercepted the call center to take Lennox's call immediately to the Pentagon. So I looked at the screen and I smirked when I saw that we had hooked him up with little to no difficulty and that the line was going strong and steady.

"Good job, hon." I praised her quietly, feeling better when her anxiety dissolved into pure happiness. I stretched and slowly stood from the desk chair that I hadn't realized I was sitting in and popped my back, relishing in the delightful way the tension had faded.

I slumped for a moment when I realized that there was nothing for me to do at the moment and huffed at the thought. I pouted when Remington's laughter filled my ears and turned my head to the side playfully.

She could tell that I wasn't truly upset and that made her happy. I smiled gently and recalled that at some point after Lennox and his team were given a lift in the helicopter that we either focused on Sam with Bumblebee driving away to contact Optimus and the other Autobots, or we directed our attention to Maggie who stole a chip from the Pentagon and went to go and ask her friend Glenn to decode it for her. I snickered at the thought of the scene in the movie, because realistically she wouldn't have been able to leave the building without someone catching her or without her computer letting out an alert.

Maybe there was something that I could do about that.

I poked at Remington before letting her into my plans. "Hey Remy, are you interested in hacking a hacker?" I asked her only to receive a sarcastic and enthusiastic "No." before she burst into giggles.

I smiled at her antics and checked the time. It was currently 22:00 and I had realized that neither of us had really eaten anything. I had also realized the importance of actually eating now that this body wasn't only for one person or one mind anymore.

"I'll tell you more later, but right now is food time." I said as I walked out of the room with the sole purpose of finding and eating food. Thankfully Remington and I had the same thought in mind.

Sourdough Bread bowl.

With soup.

I can taste it now.

Though there was one thing I had forgotten about on the way down the stairs and into the kitchen for our search for a bread bowl.

"Excuse me, miss." A voice called from behind me making me flinch and smack my hand harshly down on the marble counter tops of the large kitchen island. I hissed in pain as I turned around to face who had called me.

The person I turned around to see wasn't who I expected. Who I expected to see was a maid of sorts with hair pressed tightly into a bun, a sour expression on her face, her eyes dull, wearing a long apron around her waist along with the stereotypical maids uniforms that one would see in movies or in TV shows, and staring at me while creepily polishing a candlewick. Though who I see instead leaves me thoroughly disappointed.

Standing before me is an average Caucasian female in a white button down shirt, a white waist apron, black slacks, and black dress shoes. Dark hair, thick eyelashes, wide glasses looking hipster-chic, and freckles over a wide, beautiful grin. I try to place who she is and what she does in my mind, but for whatever reason no matter what I think is wrong. Though this woman's name can't be Morgan!

There was a laugh coming from Remington as she nudged me. "Hello, her name's Morgan."

AND THE PLOT THICKENS!