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Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
The Human Stain:
Chapter 14
Well you filled up my
head

With so many lies,

Twisted my heart

'Till something snapped inside

I'd like to give it one more try

But my give a damn's busted
You can crawl back home

Say you were wrong

Stand out in the yard

And cry all night long

Go ahead and water the lawn

My give a damn's busted
-Jo Dee Messina, My
Give A Damn�s Busted

The
White House, Washington D.C.

General Richardson entered
the Oval Office.
It had taken quite longer
than expected to acquire the necessary clearance into the president�s formal
workspace. He had been summoned, but naturally even direct orders from the
President of the United
States experienced a ridiculous delay in
time due to tightened security measures.
The aging general was
ushered inside the dimly lit chamber without much fanfare. The three
ceiling-to-floor windows behind the president�s engraved desk had the thick
velveteen curtains drawn so that only the most minimal amount of daylight
slipped in. The man�s polished leather shoes sank into the plush blue rug that
carpeted most of the room. The floor was truly expensive hardwood, but the rug
hid everything save for the edges along the walls. Within the center of the
floor covering was a large emblem of a bald eagle encircled by fifty stars and
a red outer ring.
It was none other than a
replica of the Seal of the United
States.
In its left talon, the
eagle clutched thirteen arrows � these represented the thirteen original
states. In its left, there was an olive branch. The olive branch had exactly
thirteen leaves and stood for a representation of peace.
There would be no such
thing � not anymore.
�Sir, I came as quickly as
I could.� Richardson
put himself just before the symbol on the floor, almost reverently. He could
never bring himself to step on it.
The man in the brown
leather seat was facing away from the general, so only the top mop of his
graying hair was visible over the edge of his chair. Slowly, he turned. The
room was poorly lit, which effectively cast the president�s face into long
shadows. There was an awkward silence, and then the leader of his country
stood.
�General,� he
acknowledged. The shadows shifted, and the president�s lips tipped upward. ��So nice to see you.�
�Sir, there is much I need
to tell you about the Orbiter 2,� General Richardson gushed,
uncomprehending of his superior�s smirk.
�Oh, I know everything.�
The president was a smaller man than his visitor, but there was a fluid,
catlike grace as he wound his way from behind his desk.
�You were briefed on it
already, then?� he asked hopefully. This would save them more time, if it were
true. Time was one thing they did not have enough of. A quiet rustle of fabric
to the left alerted the general to the presence of an audience in the room. He
shouldn�t be surprised, really. A Secret Serviceman stood unobtrusively in a
darkened corner, and by glancing to the right the general could confirm the
existence of another. They stood tall with their hands folded neatly in front
of their tailored black suits. They appeared non-threatening, but he knew
better. They were the best the country had, and when it came to them � well,
looks were always deceiving.
Oddly, they wore shades
despite the dark conditions. The mustached man considered this unnecessary, but
he was not one to question the president�s personal entourage.
�You could say I was� �briefed�.� The man across from General Richardson crept
closer with a predatory nature. The general could not discern exactly why the
president was acting so strangely. If it was a joke, it was a severely sadistic
one. Now was not the time to play pranks. It did not look good for the United States
if its leader was attempting humor in the most dire of situations.
�Sir�� he tried again.
The president paused, and
lightly touched a few fingertips to the polished surface of his executive desk.
His hand came up again to press both digits to his lips. His mouth grew larger
behind the fingers, but his eyes were cold.
�You will do whatever you
can to help us with our situation, would you not?�
The general breathed a
sigh of relief he had not known he had been holding. Finally, they were getting
down to business. �Yes, Sir. I will serve you in
whatever capacity you need.�
�Good,� said the man
beside the desk. Without warning, he spat on the emblem at his vistor�s feet and spun on his heel. �Then it begins.�
�Sir, I do not
understand�!� General Richardson began, but it was far too late for that.
�Fill him in.�
The corners moved, and the
president�s personal security detail detached themselves from the penumbras.
They slid silently across the room, heading towards the solitary man standing
humbly before the Seal of the United
States.

Tranquility, Nevada

�You wouldn�t.�
�I would.�
�Wouldn�t!�
�Would.� Claire gave a sage nod.
Smokescreen looked beside
himself. It was three o�clock in the afternoon and they had been bickering back
and forth like petulant adolescents over Claire�s insistence they return for
her Eclipse. The Autobot had staunchly refused to
grant her one wish, which only led to more clamor from her end. Finally, hands
tied, the human woman whipped out the big guns.
�So help me god, I will
buy a soda,� she had declared.
It led up to their present
�conversation�, which the robot was rapidly losing. He told her it would break
the truce, and that she shouldn�t go back on her word and blah, blah, blah.
Honestly, she had no intention of breaking the contract � she was smarter than
that. Claire was merely betting on the Autobot
believing that she would stoop so low, which turned out to be the case. She
felt somewhat offended that he thought so low of her scruples, but hey � this
was for her benefit. Beggars could not be choosers.
He had a poor image of
humans in general, or at least she speculated so, and therefore he would have
to believe that she would break the truce if she didn�t get her car back. He
never gave any good reason on why they had to stay, either. Boulder City
was only about an hour or so away at most, what would be the problem?
He had resisted for as
long as possible, but eventually she won out on her threat. There was one
dubious part of her mind that questioned whether she had really cowed him or
not � after all, he was a twenty foot tall robot with laser cannons and shape
shifting abilities. If he did not want to be around when she held up a can of
soda, he wouldn�t be. This only led to the inevitable conclusion that he had
humored her all the while because he enjoyed arguing with her. The very
idea that he could be that twisted � to get his jollies off seeing her pissed
off - she didn�t like the thought at all. It was downright wrong.
She had stuffed the theory
under some dusty files in the back chamber of her brain, forbidding herself
from ever entertaining it again. Sullen, Claire rode with Miguel in Smokescreen
on the way back to the motel from the lookout. They dropped Miguel off for
another night, and Claire promised to be back within a few hours. From there
they drove in a southerly direction, headed for Boulder City
and the Boyd garage. The entire ride was met with silence, something Claire had
perfected in the short time she had known Smokescreen. He did not try to
initiate conversation with her, seemingly preferring the silence to anything
else.
By the time they had
rolled up to the Boyd garage, Claire could clearly see her 2004 Eclipse parked
out front. She wanted to laugh, cry, or do a dance for joy � she thought she
would never be that happy again to see a normal car that was just a car.
Mick Boyd had already left for the day, and she had to accept her keys from
John. Mick�s oldest son never spoke much beyond the necessary anyways, so it
was a relief to leave the garage behind with nothing but a glare. She still
mourned the fact that she had put the Boyds through
hell and risked their livelihood by entangling them with her problems, but that
was the reality of it. Claire would have done anything to go back and time and
make amends, but some things couldn�t be fixed.
Time was one of them.

The doorbell rang.
Claire threw a long look
out in the direction of the sound. Who could that be?
They had made a pit stop �
pun intended � back at Claire�s house so she could gather a few more personal
possessions. Smokescreen had driven off, citing something about inspecting the
nearby area. He had parked in the driveway while she had gone through her
entire house, checking for intruders. The Autobot had
told her to scream if she needed help, and she told him she would be all too
happy to oblige. When all seemed inconsequential, he pulled out of the driveway
and began to scope the neighborhood out.
Now that he was gone,
Claire made her way to the front of the house and paused. Did she really want
to open the door? Smokescreen was no doubt nearby, policing the streets in his
own way. Besides, it wasn�t typical for a killer to politely ring the doorbell
� they generally preferred the element of surprise. Shrugging, the blonde swung
the door open and was promptly presented with the visitor on the other side.
Simon.
He hadn�t changed much in
the years they had been apart, honestly. There was nothing about his appearance
that threw her off guard, save for the tiny fact that he was, oh, well, hm, there. She stared at him like a slack-jawed
yokel, eyes wide and disbelieving. His brown eyes collided with her own,
leaving her to blink rapidly at his hard stare. They stood three feet apart,
but it might as well have been three thousand miles. She had never hoped to see
his face again, but the stark reality of his countenance before her converged
with her memories and made the divorce seem like only yesterday.
�Claire,� he said. His
voice was warm. He smiled brightly at her, and then took a step forward.
Immediately, she took a
step back. Her eyes were liquid and her mouth was partially agape in shock.
�Simon� what are you doing here? How did you find out where I lived�?�
Another
step. �I had a
private investigator look into it. I hope you don�t mind.� His smile was
unwavering, perfectly placed like his gaze on her face.
�Simon�� she warned,
stumbling back further. This was not like him � well, yes, in a way it was � he
had always been determined and domineering, just never towards her. His goals
seemed misplaced.
�I decided to take the day
off. I hopped on the first flight out of California
and rented a car. I got here as soon as I could.� He hesitated, the first crack
in his aggressive posture, and then returned full bore, �I realized after all
these years I was wrong. I have returned to bring you back. I can�t live
without you, Claire.�
Simon never admitted to
being wrong�
She didn�t have much time
left to analyze the discrepancies that the scenario presented, because in the
next moment he was on her. He pushed her back into the wall behind her and
closed the front door in one fluid motion. The barrier slammed hard enough to
rattle the walls, hinting at strength she had not known Simon to possess. He
pinned her to the spot with both body and gaze, and she stared wide-eyed into
his eyes from inches away. They were still the brown ochre tones she
recognized, but something was, well, off. His irises were brighter, more ruddy then she remembered, almost as if lit from
behind.
Those eyes burned with
their intense regard. Simon had given her more than enough glares in his day,
but it was never with such fiery scrutiny. Something about the demonic light in
his eyes seemed beyond mere human capability.
�Si--�
she tried again, but was effectively quieted. His mouth descended on hers, hot
and heavy. There was possessiveness to the forced contact, and his lips were
brutal.
For a lost second or two,
she was brain dead. Simon was there with her, not Jen, kissing her with
more desire than she had ever witnessed in all the accumulated time they had
been together. Her eyes threatened to flutter shut, to give in to the familiar
but unfamiliar course of actions when her mind kick-started itself again.
Wait.
Jen.
Indignation and rage rose
up in her gut, as well as disgust. It wasn�t towards Simon specifically, but
more towards herself for nearly giving in. Claire�s head snapped back so fast
that a sharp crack emanated from the spot where the back of her skull hit the
wall behind her. It hurt instantly, creating wildfires on her nerve endings.
Despite this, the pain was ignored. Claire brought her good knee up at exactly
the same time, lodging the cap right into Simon�s groin. �Bastard,�
she hissed between clenched teeth. �Who the hell do you think
you are, marching in here and acting however you damn well please with me?!�
Simon flinched visibly and
reversed both from the pain she inflicted and the press of her palms against
his shoulders. He did not curl into a fetal position as most men would have,
however, which made it all the more impressive to watch him stand there, almost
completely unaffected after a matter of seconds. The man�s face schooled itself
into careful lines, watching her warily.
She stared back in much
the same manner, save for the feral scowl darkening her face. �You have some
fucking nerve to stalk me. People are looking for you back home. Jen is looking
for you.�
�What about her?� His
question was calm and collected, and he straightened further. His shoulders
rolled several times, and Claire swore she could hear a creaking noise.
�She called earlier today
and told me what you never had the balls to.� The fury in Claire�s voice was
scalding.
Simon merely looked bored.
�I told you, I want you. I do not care about her.�
�Oh, is that it? You�re
dropping her like a load of bricks after a few years, too? You saved my life,
Simon, and I�ll never forget that. But, unfortunately, I think you need to
leave.� Claire skirted around his person, and reopened the door. �Go back to
Atherton, while you still have people who are worried for you there. I know I�m
not.�
�I told you, I want you.�
He was relentless.
��And I�m telling you, I
want you gone,� she countered snippily. �I won�t tell Jen you just pulled this
stunt on me if you leave right now. I have enough problems without adding this
crap into the mix. You made your choice a long time ago� now be an adult and
stick to it.�
�Be rational, Claire. You
like living like�� he arced his hand over his head to
illustrate his point, ��this?�
Oh, hell no. Estranged
ex-husband or not, he was not going to stand there and give her a lecture about
the small scale of her home. She bought it herself and was struggling to make
ends meet to keep it, but to have him show up and begin to compare her old home
in Atherton to the one she currently owned was out of the question. He was
either very brave, or very stupid.
She was leaning towards
the latter.
�OUT,� she
commanded, jabbing her index finger towards the door behind him. With the door
out of the way, she could see the vehicle he had arrived in. She expected a
rented Lexus or BMW, not the empty squad car parked in the driveway behind her
Eclipse. Her hand dropped to her side, and she tipped her head to the side. Her
anger subsided, replaced by rampant confusion. �Simon� did you come here in a
cop car?�
Claire�s ex-husband
glanced over his shoulder at the vehicle in question, and a wry smirk tipped one
corner of his mouth upward. �Let�s just say a friend gave me a ride.�
�Simon,� she said. Her
tone was calm, but not the typical type of calm � there was a psychotic pause
to it, the kind that let the one listening know that the speaker was about to
scream. �You said you rented a car. You cannot rent a cop car.�
�Oh, did I?� The
businessman seemed pleasantly surprised by her prior observation. �I apologize,
I usually rent them. Slip of the tongue.� He licked his lips, and she looked
away.
Claire took a deep breath.
�Who is your friend? I didn�t know you knew any police officers in the area.�
She modified her word usage, carefully dropping �cop� from her vocabulary in
case they were being overheard. Suspicious now, Claire stepped around Simon and
went outside. She turned a sharp left to look down the front face of the
garage, but no one was in sight. Her nerves were beginning to fry, and an
uneasy feeling roiled in her gut. �Seriously, where did you get this thing��
Strong arms seized her
from behind, pinning both of her own arms to her sides. Claire froze up for a
second, too shocked to move. When she realized she was being propelled forward
by Simon�s bulk from behind, she began to fight. �This could have been easy,
dear, but we�ll just have to do it the hard way.� Simon�s voice was a mocking
growl, something she had never heard from him in all the time they had been
together.
Not only that, but the
inconsistencies seemed suddenly very clear at the moment � Simon never called
her �dear�, either. The realization of her predicament began to settle in like
a cold snow upon her mind, and she fought all the harder. Twisting and turning,
she began to shriek for help for all she was worth. It wasn�t very brave and it
wasn�t very pretty, but time was of the essence and she was no hero.
Simon�s imposter grunted
with the effort to keep her subdued. He was far stronger than she, but she
still bucked against him and attempted to lodge an elbow into his lower abdomen
whenever the chance presented itself. The pair made a jerking, graceless path
towards the squad car.
Claire momentarily stopped
struggling when she saw it fire up on its own. Her eyes widened, and her cries
for help became more insistent. �SHIT, HELP, HELP!!� If there was
a god, then Smokescreen would hear her.
No one came.
The Trans-Organic finally
managed to keep her pinned with one arm just under her chest. The other came
around to wrench her wayward elbow back into a painful hold, nearly twisting
her arm to the point of breaking. She gave a pained yelp, and then hissed with
a quick intake of air.
�Be a little quieter, hm? We wouldn�t want you losing another limb.�
�Fucker,� she
swore. Red pinwheels of pain dotted her vision. They were parallel to the squad
car, and one of the backseat doors swung open. There was a metal grate
separating the front from the back of the car, which was a feature in all
police cruisers. It was meant to keep the suspect contained � which meant they
were going to lock her up in a backseat birdcage.
The thing behind her
wearing Simon�s face shoved her through the open gap and towards the dark cab.
�Get in, gutsack.� He tried to shove her again, but
was having some difficulty in manipulating her position so that she would go
in.
It was slowly sinking in
that this was going to happen, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Claire was absolutely helpless. She was just some woman in her mid-twenties
that worked at a department store to get by. There was nothing special about
her, nothing unique, and the world would not mourn her passing. Those thoughts
sobered her, and she bowed her head to accept her fate like a cow being led to
the slaughter.
Still, if she was so
ordinary, why was everyone and their uncle out to get
her? It didn�t add up. She suddenly thought of Smokescreen just then, and she
briefly mused over the idea that he might miss her. Maybe, if they were capable
of that emotion. If anyone was going to help her, it had to be herself.
�Hey, hey, slow down. I�ll
go easy. Just let up a little. It hurts,� Claire said as calmly as possible.
The Trans-Organic sneered,
and she could feel his breath stirring the wisps of hair curling around the
shell of her ear. He has lungs..? A crazy idea formed in her head.
�What are you proposing?�
he asked.
�Just relax your hold and
I�ll get in the�� she paused, quite aware the police cruiser was not really as
it seemed. Hell, nothing is these days. Swallowing nervously, she
finished her sentence. ��car.�
He raised her arm another
agonizing millimeter, twisted as it was up and against her back. She squeaked,
and tears sprung to her eyes as a new wave of pain hit her senses. If he went
any increment higher he would snap the bone for sure. She had to calm herself
and think fast.
�Please, just� I�ll go
nicely. Just don�t break my arm,� she pleaded, attempting to sound as helpless
as possible. It came quite naturally, really, given the circumstances. She
didn�t expect him to comply � but he did.
The hybrid�s grip eased,
and a dull ache roared up her arm and into her brain. It was much better than
the edge-of-the-knife feeling from moments before, but it still hurt.
Ignoring it, she did what
she had briefly rehearsed in her head. It seemed like a good idea in theory,
but it ended up being a very bad one in practice. With her left arm still
smarting, Claire spun on her heel and used her right hand to sock him squarely
in the midsection. His breath left him, just as she thought it would � if he
was capable of respiration, that part of him had human lungs. The impact from her
blow knocked him over, and he tottered with the force of it while coughing and
holding his sides. Around that same instant, the squad car began to reformat
itself into something else.
She was running, bolting
from the spot. Her arm screamed at her, and she vaguely noticed the detached
feeling emanating from it. Claire tailed it down the street while metric tons
of metal bore down on her from behind. She could feel it rattling the asphalt,
sending small fissures to race ahead of her. Shitshitshit.
Claire glanced over her
shoulder to see her pursuer, and she suddenly wished she hadn�t. It roared, and
she threw everything she had into propelling herself forward.
It was a gargantuan entity
with police logos emblazoned on its plating. She recognized it as a Decepticon, but dear lord � she wasn�t one to call the Autobots approachable, but this thing made them look like
fuzzy Easter chicks.
The world seemed to fade
into slow motion, and Claire recognized the sensation as a response to panic
and shock. She jerked her head side-to-side as she ran, attempting to keep
herself aware. It was nearly upon her, and her small form could only run so far
and so fast. It was much taller than she, and therefore had the advantage of
catching up in a few more strides. Something slammed into the cement sidewalk
just a foot or two away to her right, and she realized it was its fist.
The world exploded. She
was suddenly airborne as the ground heaved upwards, sending her and a few
parked cars rolling. The sound of crunching metal filled the air, and Claire
dimly recognized that she was in dire danger of being crushed by a spinning
vehicle. If there was by chance miraculous intervention, then she must have had
it. Her body narrowly missed a van that collided with the ground topside down. A
shower of sparks rained over her skin, and she felt their fiery pricks just as
she too met with the pavement.
Hurdling towards black top
at a rapid speed should have hurt a lot more than she expected it to. The wind
was knocked from her body, much like she had done to Simon�s killer. For the
few first seconds, she skidded along like a crazy child on a slip-�n-slide made
of gravel. She felt boneless, helpless to control her direction. The friction
between her exposed skin and the ground burned with heat as it ripped away the
first or second layer of epidermis. Darkness swirled just below her
consciousness, and Claire struggled to stay awake.
She felt pain rip through
her, and for a moment she thought she was dying. Then, strangely, the sensation
subsided to a tolerable level. A new rush of adrenaline swept through her
nervous system, and she mentally thanked her adrenal glands.
Slowly, Claire raised
herself enough so that she could crawl. Every movement was pure, ripping agony.
It was much better than the alternative, however. Pain was a nuisance, yes, but
it let her know that she was still alive. Her head lolled around, and she
blinked rapidly to focus on the danger behind her. Her vision was spotty, and
her focus fluctuated in and out. The last, reaching rays of the sun were
suddenly blocked as a mammoth form rose over her smaller one. Her personal
reaper was dark and sleek, and it had come to deliver her to the next
dimension.
Claire read, �to punish
and enslave�� on the Decepticon�s shoulder, which
had really been on the squad car along. It was ridiculous to read it now and
wonder why she hadn�t seen it before, but it was a fitting line for her end.
Slowly, she rotated at the pelvis and swung herself around. Something wet ran
down her lower lip, but she was too engrossed at the vision of the towering Decepticon to notice she was bleeding.
The former squad car
leered closer, balling one of his fists together. He had long, pincher-like
digits with a car tire just behind them on the back of each �hand�. His face
was distantly recognizable as somewhat human in form, with large plates that
served as eyebrows dipping low over small eye sockets. Like the Autobots, his chest was composed of the grill of the squad
car. He had blunt feet that did not match his metal talons, but it did not
matter. Both were terrifying.
The Decepticon
raised his clenched fist far over Claire�s head, apparently readying himself to
crush the human below like the insect she was sure she appeared to be.
With her heart thundering
in her chest, the young woman scrunched her eyes together and waited for the
crushing force that would turn her into quivering blob of flesh and organs. Her
mind helpfully flashed back to the image of the flattened Trans-Organic, and
she accepted that she would look the same minus the metal.
Claire waited.
Nothing.
Sirens wailed in the
distance, meaning someone had either heard her screaming in the driveway or saw
a giant metal robot storming down the street � either would do it. She didn�t
have long to question the source of the sirens, however. Something else blotted
out the sun, leaping at her impending doom and taking him down with it. There
was a dizzying snowball of metal that rolled sideways off the street and into a
neighbor�s house. It drove a wedge straight through the middle of the dwelling,
and then the two burst apart and finished off the remainder of the structure.
More cars were demolished in the ensuing chaos, and car alarms blared as if
competing with the growing scream of sirens.
Claire could not tear her
eyes away from the two robots. Her savior was none other than Smokescreen, and
just in time. A second later would have been too late. Where were you?! her mind cried.
Wiping the back of her
hand over her lower lip subconsciously, Claire did not even look down when she
came away with a streak of red. It smeared her face like war paint, the
consequence of razing herself against asphalt.
Meanwhile, the shit had
hit the fan.
A helicopter buzzed low
overhead, sweeping the mangled hair from her face. A small fear began to grow
in her, and she found she was no longer taking automobiles or any machine at
face value anymore. It nagged on her now, even. How did she know the helicopter
or the police she heard were not more aliens coming to aide the Decepticon? Why was she not surprised that she was even
questioning it?
Claire winced as the wind
burned her face, but otherwise continued to watch the two giants engage in
battle. I hope no one was in that house�
Frankly, there wasn�t a
house left. There was a pit filled with debris that had once been a basement,
but that was all. The two mechanoids were circling
one another, hunched over like wrestlers in a ring. Smokescreen�s cannons were
out and above his shoulder blades, rotating fractionally for every step the
large Decepticon took sideways.
Warring emotions filled
her � anguish at the knowledge that Simon was most likely dead, fear for
Smokescreen (she didn�t want to admit to this one), and fear for her own well
being. Simon�s clone was still around, and she would - no, could not let
herself forget that.
They were going to fight,
and Claire didn�t want to be underfoot in the vicinity when that happened. She
rolled back over and began to crawl away as fast as her protesting limbs would
allow. While doing this, she glanced up. The wind generated by the helicopter
came in waves like the surf on an ocean. It cleared the dust from the air, just
enough for her to make out the local television station�s logo on the
helicopter�s side.
Lights, camera, action!
You�re on, she
thought grimly. If the world doubted the existence of giant robots before, they
were in for a rude awakening.

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. All
recognizable characters are the property of HasTak.
All original characters are mine.
A/N: Hey guys, thank you SO much for
all the reviews for the last chapter. Timberwolf and Marigold - you guys are just awesome. I hope you both keep telling me what you think of the story, be it good or bad!
Oh, and I know you guys
will like this: I
am making character profiles for as many of the characters as I can. Go to: http://quietharm.deviantart.com/gallery/#The-Human-Stain
So far I have Claire and
Miguel�s portrait up. Smokescreen�s hologram form is next, followed by Simon.
I�m doing cel-shading now for a hard anime look
instead of the soft shading like that first picture had. ) Hope you like it!
I�ll be out until the 14th
or a little longer since I am moving to Nebraska (CRAZY) and it�ll get busy for
me. I should have Smoke out for you by this weekend.
- 13
- 14
- 15
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The Human Stain