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The Human Stain	By : Subtext Category: S through Z > Transformers (Movie Only) > Transformers (Movie Only) Views: 2378 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Transformers movie, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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The Human Stain: Chapter 12
Debbie just hit the wall

she never had it all

one Prozac a day

husbands a CPA

her dreams went out the door

when she turned twenty four

only been with one man

what happened to her plans?
-Bowling For Soup, 1985

Miguel frowned, shifting his eyes over the poorly lit interior of the
�Tranquil Rest Motel� that he was to share with Claire that night. From the
roadside, the sprawling, one-story motel had weaved about the property like a
snake. The building�s pink plank siding was littered with peeling paint, random
acts of graffiti, and overgrown shrubs. The neon sign announcing a vacancy from
the road was in dire need of repair as well. The �y� was completely burned out,
and the first �a� was threatening to follow suite. The parking lot was
noticeably empty, and the sole source of light came from the glowing face of a
vending machine and the interior lights of the cramped office behind it. Too
tired to refuse, the two had stumbled out of the Subaru as Bumblebee parked
nearby with Sam and Mikaela. The rest of the Autobots had dispersed, seemingly left to their own
devices.
�You sure this is where you want to stay?� Sam called from the open window
of the Camaro. Bumblebee�s engine was running
quietly, and Mikaela was tipping her head around
Sam�s to watch the proceedings.
�Yeah, we�ll be ok,� Claire waved back. �See you guys in the morning?�
�Yeah, we�ll be here.�
�Great, see you.�
Truth was, there was not a damn thing available
besides this quack shack. They had not thought ahead to make reservations
anywhere else, and only the more expensive hotels in town had rooms available.
Since they both worked at a large box store on very
little pay, it was a no-brainer as to which place to select.
It was ugly, but it would have to do.
It was easy enough to book a room with two double beds. Modesty called for
separate motel rooms, but their budget would not bend. Now as he stood in the
dingy, cramped quarters of the �Tranquil Rest Motel�, Miguel�s mind began to
turn over just how many bodies were buried beneath the mattresses. It sounded
like something you would name a cemetery, not a place for living people.
The carpet was well worn, complete with runs. The owner had made a valiant
effort at disguising the worst parts by careful placement of the furniture, but
even these were an eye sore. There was a small table with an ashtray near the
door, but the maid had not seen fit to remove the last ashes left behind by the
previous occupant. The television set was something from the early-nineties,
complete with circular antennae. There was a bathroom the size of a walk-in closet
towards the back, as well as a metal pole stretching wall-to-wall with a few
emaciated metal hangers dangling from it. The beds � well, they were the nicest
thing about the place. Two queen-sized sleepers sat apart from one another at
the distance of three feet, both outfitted with (hopefully) clean sheets and
bedspreads. There was a small nightstand between them with an even smaller
lamp, and Miguel stepped across the room to open the top drawer. Predictably,
there was a pocket bible inside.
�You have got to be kidding me,� he heard Claire say.
��Fraid not.�
He heard her duffel bag drop heavily to the floor. �Do we know how long
we�ll be here?�
�No idea. Didn�t that tall freak say something about waiting?�
She held both hands out from her location near the doorway, and then stepped
closer to Miguel. Neither bothered to remove their shoes � it would be an
insult to their socks. �But how long? We can�t
stay here indefinitely. What if we lose our jobs? Then what? I don�t have
enough money to carry me beyond two months.�
�Same here,� he admitted grimly.
He wasn�t sure what they would do. They surely didn�t have the money to go
racing off towards an unexpected adventure, but here they were. If it involved
anything less than robotic aliens from space, Miguel would have simply stayed
home. As it stood, he wasn�t sure if staying home had been such a bad idea
after all.
He shook his head a little, jarring his senses back into focus. He noticed
Claire had extracted her cell phone from her purse. She was frowning deeply as
she stared down at it and pressed a small key over and over.
�Shit,� she swore.
�What?� he asked.
�It�s the Boyd garage. They�ve called five times and left three messages. I
never heard anything since the phone was on vibrate
the whole time.�
�Isn�t that the place Smokescreen followed you to?�
�Yeah,� she hedged, glancing out the curtained window that faced the parking
lot. The Subaru � Smokescreen � was still parked in the stall right outside
their room. He was completely immobile, seemingly a harmless parked car.
�Then��
�It�s Mick Boyd, the owner. He called first and left a message telling me
that my car was ready and he was sorry for the delay. He also said I was
welcome to bring back the �loaner� so they could report it to the police.�
�Uh� wait, back up. He�s reporting his own loaner car to the cops? Why would
he do that?�
Claire made a high-pitched sound that escaped from the tight seal between
her lips. Frustrated, she ran a quavering hand through her tangled hair and sat
on the bed. Holding her hands helplessly before her, the woman narrowed her
eyes. �You see, it wasn�t his car. I stupidly talked him into loaning me
it since he had nothing else and I had to get to work. He said we�d report it
to the police once I had my car fixed and we would all pretend like we had
never seen it before.�
�How could you not see it before? He�s tricked out!�
Wild eyes shot up to Miguel�s face. �He wasn�t, though. He was just an old
beater before. Something called a Dat-son or
something. He was really old and the paint was faded. When I picked you up
after the bar fiasco, he just� just changed into something better somehow.�
�Are you telling me he just turns into whatever car he wants to look like?�
Miguel inquired rapidly.
Claire dropped her eyes to the stained carpet. �I guess�?�
�Sweet.�
�Shut up!� the woman across from him cried. �This isn�t a joke. Think� I�m
in real hot water now. We�re going to have to call in sick tomorrow, and not only that� I have to explain to Mick why I
can�t pick up my perfectly good car and return the one none of us owns. He put
me into his confidence, and � he�s just been so nice to me, and I feel like I
destroyed that.�
Miguel was suddenly quiet. Claire stood up.
�We�re supposed to be responsible adults now, Miguel. We�re supposed to be
responsible, mature adults. Yet, here we are, jumping down the rabbit
hole to play a waiting game against the Queen of Hearts. It� it doesn�t work.
We need to call this off.� She was gesticulating in front of him now, her gray
eyes hard.
�Yeah, really, what are our options!� he countered, a bit annoyed at her
obtuseness. �You want to go back and have that thing find you? You�re currently
being hunted, I hope you know.�
�It� it� I KNOW!� Claire flung her hands up once, and then feathered them as
they lowered like she was treading water and drowning anyway. �This crap is not
supposed to happen. It�s just� not. I hate that I�m being forced into a
pocket and left to sit there sifting through some really crappy options. Do you know how that feels?�
Miguel was now in her face, full of contempt for her loss of control. �Yeah,
I know how that feels! I�m here, ain�t I? I�m fucking
stuck just like you and you introduced me to all of this fucked up
shit!�
Claire reared back like she had been struck. In a way, she had.
Oblivious to her reaction, Miguel jabbed a finger in her direction. �I just
find it really funny that you come across all high-and-mighty about what
we should do when I should be at home. Don�t saddle your problems on me,
I have my own.� That said, he whipped around and stormed off towards the
bathroom.
�Miguel, I�� He heard her voice falter behind him, but ignored it.
The cheap door slammed behind him, closing him off from any further tirade
of hers. He was fuming, and felt entitled to it. Yeah, it wasn�t fair that the
world had bequeathed them this knowledge of aliens and all that went along with
it, but he was the kind to believe that what was done was done. Stuff happened
along the way, stuff worked out or it didn�t - but in the end you couldn�t
reverse what had already happened. Then, here she came, telling him off
about �mature, responsible adults�. Who the hell would be a mature, responsible
adult in a situation like this one?
He splashed some water on his face after turning on one of the faucets. The
surge of water was slightly comforting, but not enough. He thought back to
those two kids � Sam and Mikaela, was it? It would
have been so much easier to be their age again, to shirk responsibility with
the knowledge that your parents would be there to catch you if you fell.
Unfortunately, Miguel had a mortgage, car payments,
insurance payments� the bills were nothing to be ignored. He lamented the fact
they were here instead of where they should be � at work. In this, he
understood Claire�s frustration.
What Miguel would not tolerate was her attitude. She was a neurotic
creature, he was certain of that now. He had seen it at work in the way she
followed Zebrowski�s orders perfectly, unwavering in
what the mole-man set as guidelines. Claire always had a stick up her ass, and
he was nearly close enough to telling her tonight. He figured he would,
someday, if she pushed him that far.
Grimly, Miguel patted his face dry with one of the motel�s towels and
thought back to life as a teenager.

Outside in the bedroom, Claire crumpled to the coverlet upon the bed.
Folding her head in her hands, the twenty-six-year-old woman allowed a long
shudder to rack her body.
Claire couldn�t think. All the burdens suddenly became too heavy, and the
weight of the world settled between her shoulders. She did the one thing she
had postponed for so long, the thing she could no longer suppress.
She cried.
More tremors rode upon her muscles, causing her to quake as she sobbed. She
wept into her lap quietly, attempting to keep it from Miguel�s attention. She
faintly heard the water running in the bathtub before the shower burst to life,
and she figured it wasn�t likely he would hear anyways.
As the tears ran in messy rivulets down the planes of her cheeks, she lifted
her head long enough to stare towards the table where she had left her purse.
There was a vending machine outside, and the idea of a Mountain Dew wouldn�t be
so horrible. Coughing and wiping the back of her hand against her face, Claire
lifted her body and the burdens both and got up.
Rummaging through her bag, she managed to scrounge up three quarters, two
dimes and a nickel. An extra quarter would have been nice, but it would
suffice. Sniffling, she slipped past the motel room door.
The cold night air was shocking. The outside air temperature stole the heat
from her tears, making her feel like someone blew shaved ice into her face.
Shivering and trying valiantly to abate a fresh new crop of tears, Claire made
her way down to the office and passed the quiet Subaru in his parking stall.
She kept her head turned towards the motel as she did so, just in case he might
use her appearance as fodder for later insults.
The office was still lit, and the shadow of the older man that had checked
them in moved about inside. Claire scanned the selection of soda as her face
was cast into a ghastly yellow light from the machine. An estranged bystander
would see a hollow-eyed woman, someone who appeared older than her years. The
lighting did her no favors.
Obviously disappointed that the vending machine sold only coke products, she
inserted the coins and punched a bar labeled �Mello Yello�.
It wasn�t as good as Dew, but it was similar enough that she could pretend.
Nothing happened. Something �clinked� within the bowls of the vending machine,
but otherwise there was no reaction.
�Oh, c�mon,� she murmured. She made a fist and rapped soundly against the
large apparatus, and then again harder when that proved to have no effect. �You
are freaking kidding me. C�mon!� Now she was gripping the defiant
machine by both sides, attempting to shake her soda loose. If she was much
stronger and the vending machine was not bolted to the cement, she might have
had more luck.
Claire awarded the contraption with a swift kick, but only ended up hopping
around in circles for that one. �Owww!�
Eff this. I�ll just go back into the room and find
more change. I bet it�s stuck, so now I have to buy two to knock the first one
loose. I bet the motel manager has it rigged that way, anyways. Crook. Sometimes the voice inside her skull was a rather
pessimistic one.
Turning away with an unintelligible oath, the blonde was stopped in her
tracks by the warm heat of a motor fanning her fingers and torso. Lifting one
eyebrow, she spun around fully and was met with high beams to the face. �Auuugghhh!�
Flinching, she closed her eyes and turned her head away at the sudden burst of
blinding light.
�Need help?� a certain Subaru asked.
Still keeping her eyes averted, Claire used one free had to shoo him back in
the direction he came. �No one gave you permission to leave your parking spot!�
She sincerely hoped no one saw her right then, dismissing a car with words and
motions. She�d be locked up for sure. Smokescreen had somehow sidled past her
notice and had trapped her between his headlights and the vending machine by a
small space of five feet.
Smokescreen�s voice was most amused. �I told you I was autonomous. Do you
understand the meaning of that?�
No, but screw you anyway, her mind shot back vehemently.
�Just go. I don�t need your� HOLY
CRAP.� She leaped sideways, and just in time � Smokescreen spun
squealing wheels and flew forward. He hit the resistant vending machine
squarely in the middle, shaking it to its core.
Ka-chunk.
Slowly, the car eased forward. A 20oz. Mello Yello
was sitting in the black soda slot, just as it should have been earlier.
Sorrow was quickly replaced by anger. �You� you� you nearly killed me!�
�I had faith your reflexes wouldn�t be that bad.�
Snatching the plastic soda bottle from the slot, Claire settled Smokescreen
with a nasty glare. �Here�s what I think of your faith.� Twisting the cap off,
Claire held the container over the car and felt awash with thin victory as the
fizz burst past the bottle and showered Smokescreen with foam and tiny droplets
of carbonated soda. She had counted on the soda being pretty shaken up after
getting rammed by a car like that, and luckily it had.
�My PAINT!� Smokescreen gunned his engine
and zipped backwards faster than she had ever seen him move forward. It was
possibly 0-60 in two seconds flat.
�That�s for scaring the shit out of me.� The soda was running down her wrist
and arm, but she hardly took notice. All she was concerned about was gloating
over the fact that she had finally got the better of him. After he was no
longer under the umbrella of spray, she waited for the sizzle to settle and
then took a quick swig of the drink.
�You know what that liquid does to exterior paint jobs, don�t you? It�s acid!
It will leave spots!�
�Exactly.�
�What are you thinking, human!� The Autobot was enraged, to put it lightly. Claire found she
didn�t care. She felt a lot better, actually. The blonde
sauntered away, past rows of doors and windows to other rooms, and tipped back
another gulp of her half-depressed drink. Behind her, she heard a roar
of indignation from Smokescreen�s engine. He wouldn�t be too stupid to change
in plain sight, not there, and that fact did not do much to abate his rage. �I
have to get this off, now!�
There was a small chance he would run her over for this transgression, but
she would take her chances.
�Better start rollin�, then,� Claire answered
coolly without turning around.
�Slaggin� squishie!�
�Rattletrap.�
She couldn�t tell if he had heard her or not. He was already peeling out of
the parking lot, lights aimed for locations unknown. If she knew any better, he
was most likely on a beeline course for Lake Mead
to wash the soda off his precious paint job.
Serves you right. Still, in hindsight, why
was she beginning to feel bad? It hit her suddenly like a pinprick, unexpected
and unwanted. She really shouldn�t care, not after all he put her through. He
played with her like a cat with a mouse, and this was where she put her foot
down. She drew the line here. In fact, maybe he wouldn�t come back. If there
were a higher power, he would see it fit to have mercy on her then and there
and absolve her of all her sins so she could return home without fear of
certain death.
It would be nice to believe, in theory. In practice she was just as much a
joke to the man upstairs as she was to Smokescreen.
Claire re-entered her room and found Miguel watching PBS. He glanced up
calmly when she made her presence known and motioned to the television set with
the remote. �No cable. This place is a hole.�
�Did you know the dirtiest thing in a motel room is the remote?� Another sip.
Miguel made a face, and she laughed. Maybe things weren�t so bad, after all.

Mikaela Banes was curled up against Sam at home.
Okay, so it wasn�t technically a home to some, but it was a home to her.
Mikaela's room was small, awash with blues and
purples. A single daybed hugged one corner, and a small writing desk stood
nearby. The wallpaper was a sky blue, the bedspread violet, and the carpet
off-white. Her bedroom was possibly the best looking interior space within the
entire trailer � her father was rarely home, and therefore his room was bare
and bereft of life. Mikaela�s mother had run off with
another man when she was six, and the teen barely had any memories of the
woman. Her father and mother had never married, which made it all that much
easier for the woman to shirk the responsibility she had to her fledgling
family and slip away like a shadow.
Yeah, a shadow. That would be the best description
of the woman who gave birth to her. She had a few old pictures, but the
memories were fuzzy and ill defined. They coalesced from the textured corners
of her mind � sounds, sights, and feelings of need. The woman they targeted had
no face, just a figure. They cropped up often when Mikaela
was at her lowest like vengeful spirits, and it was only when her mood shifted
that she could dismiss them.
Her father barely spoke of her mother, which was understandable. Money was
tight when she was young, but despite his criminal history John Banes did care
greatly for his daughter. Instead of leaving her to her own devices when he
went out for �work�, he would take her with him. He couldn�t afford a
babysitter, but he did his best. In that way, Mikaela was very devoted to him � devoted enough to gain a
juvenile record for tagging along with a car thief.
That was all in the past, however. Her juvenile record had been discreetly
cleared after the Hoover Dam showdown. She had Sam to thank for that.
Speaking of Sam, he was currently attempting to slide the strap to her tank
top over one shoulder. She slapped at him playfully, giggled, and flashed him a
grin. He smiled back, and the two radiated in the comfort they gave each other.
They had driven back to Mikaela�s trailer court to drop
her off, but Sam had dallied like always. Bee was parked outside, a sympathizer
of their procrastination. He would be in no hurry.
�C�mon, Sam.� They were both on her bed, leaning up
against the headboard. Sam had to push several of Mikaela�s
stuffed animals aside just to make room for them when they first got there. Mikaela thought they were silly, but idols from childhood
were never easily given up.
�What?� he gave her an endearing look, one too deviously innocent to pass
her notice.
�You know!� They had been dating for a few months now, and hadn�t gone
anywhere past third base. It wasn�t for lack of want � Mikaela
was very experienced with sex but had made the mistake of going too fast and
far with Trent, her last boyfriend. With Sam� well, she wanted to take it slow.
Sam never admitted to it, but she was pretty sure he was still a virgin. He was
always trying to get her to take it in new directions, but his movements and
caresses were unrefined and rushed. She was the sane one when it came to their
moments of physical intimacy, but she feared Sam would take it the wrong way
every time she stopped him from going further.
I wonder if it would ruin everything if we took that last step, Mikaela mentally sighed. She wanted to be with him just as
much as he wanted to be with her, but she just couldn�t allow herself to be the
one to ruin them.
�I don�t know,� the boy said, rolling her over beneath him. He touched his
nose to hers, and she chortled.
�Sam� hey, can I ask you a few things?�
�Huh?� He shifted, and she felt his weight lift. He angled himself so that
he was still bent over her, but slightly to the side. He looked concerned.
�What�s wrong?�
�Just� those people. Do you trust them?�
�Optimus seems to.� Sam shrugged his shoulders, as
if that qualification was all he needed.
�I don�t know� they just� it seems odd that they were brought here by that
new Autobot.�
�Yeah, well, the lady kind of had her DNA stolen. I think it�s a good
reason.� He paused, and appeared to be in a state of thought. Slowly, his slack
features regained their humor. �Heeeey� are you maybe
jealous that we aren�t the only ones that knows about
them now?�
�You�re such a dork.� She reached behind her, pulling a pillow free. She
threw it at his face, and he caught it with a laugh. The brunette giggled
again, and then let out a defeated rush of air from between her lips. �You
know, maybe you�re right.�
�I knew it!� he crowed, pushing the pillow aside.
Mikaela sat up straighter, causing a disappointed
Sam to move away and make room. �I dunno, I guess I
just thought we�d be the only ones.� Her hands caught up with her boyfriend�s,
and she twined her digits into his. �You know?� Mikaela�s
eyes met meaningfully with Sam�s.
The teenager�s face softened. �Yeah, I know. I guess I thought that too� but
hey, inevitably more people will learn about them. They can�t be our secret
forever.�
Mikaela smiled a little at that, somewhat
reassured. �I suppose you will always have Bee, too.�
�You bet. Bee is my guardian, just like you are my girlfriend.�
He�s so corny. I love it.
Mikaela Banes leaned forward and wrapped her arms
around Sam Witwicky�s neck. ��And you are my
boyfriend,� she murmured into his nearest ear as he raised his arms to return
her embrace.
Over her shoulder, Sam smiled and closed his eyes.

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. All recognizable characters
are the property of HasTak. All original characters
are mine.
A/N: And there is chapter 12. I had fun with that soda scene,
admittedly. Will those two ever call a truce?
Oh, and I just want to mention I am actually working on a picture of these
two in photoshop. I�m somewhat of an illustrator, so
you�ll see that once it is done. I am moving in three weeks, so expect a week
of downtime around April 7th-14th. Sorry! I also am curious: Do you guys prefer
longer chapters (about almost double the size of these) or more frequent
updates? Up to you, I can do either.
Timberwolf:�
I am glad you are liking this story, please
stay hooked!� Let me know if it ever gets
too slow for you. =)
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The Human Stain