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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 5
Once my life was plain and clear

I recall

Once my ignorance was bliss

Nightfall came

Like a serpent�s kiss

To my troubled mind
-Kamelot, Abandoned

Claire whirled to face her own mirror
image � save this one was ten pounds lighter, ten years younger, and ten times
more pissed off.
Moments marched by, and all Claire could do was stare at her younger
counterpart with severe cognitive dissonance. Her injury forgotten, Claire opened
her mouth to speak, but it was too dry. Closing it, she swallowed, licked her
lips, and tried again. �Who��
The girl � her younger self � scowled. It made her instantly ugly and
unapproachable. Claire had never produced such an expression herself before �
she never could. This facial contortion radiated hate. Belatedly, Claire
noticed that this other incarnation had two perfect legs - no prosthesis.
�We finally meet.�
�What do you mean, we finally�� Claire didn�t get to finish. The girl was
suddenly on her, and bearing her down with strength she couldn�t possibly
possess.
�I wanted to see my organic donor before I dispatched them,� hissed the
girl, raising her fingernails high overhead.
Organic donor?!
The back of Claire�s cranium rapped sharply against the porcelain tile, and
it took her all of two seconds to realize she was now on her back with her
attacker leering just above.
Dazed, the older woman stared up into the face � her face � and noticed
first the pale skin. At that age she had been heavily tanned. Everything else
seemed shockingly distinct. There was the unblemished complexion, the fine brow
and rounded features. The only niggling difference was the eyes. They weren�t
gray, not exactly. They were mottled with bits of gray, steely in their regard,
but behind that burned spots of red. Claire felt her stomach sink into a pit of
unease and ignored the throbbing at the back of her skull.
�Who the hell are you!?�
Her mirror-self sneered and then tipped her head back to laugh. The voice
was hers, but even this had a slight fluctuation that made it somehow wrong.
�Do I not look familiar? I should. I wear your skin.�
Okay, she could definitely say she never spoke so formally in her life, and
never at that age. �How do you look like� how did you get in here? You�d better
leave or� or I�m calling the police!�
Should of done that already.
�Do you really think you can save your pitiful hide?� the other blonde
sneered. Her hair was cropped short, a mod style Claire had never personally
worn. The hair was smoothed down flawlessly, so much so that it could have been
a wig. �Say goodnight, you sack of guts.�
She had been called many names in the twenty-six years she had been on the
planet, but this one was a first. That factor somehow made it the most
offensive one to date.
Sack of guts!? Now just wait a darn minute�
Anger drove her forward, just as her younger stunt double brought her hand
down. Faintly, Claire heard the whirring of gears and the scraping of metal.
Claire brought the knee of her good leg up, catching the teenager in the lower
gut. I hope your sack of guts hurts for that.
If her attacker was in pain, it didn�t show. She appeared surprised that
Claire was fighting back, however, and was momentarily knocked off kilter when
Claire�s knee connected with her abdomen. Claire rolled to the right, out from
under the girl.
Crunch.
Claire turned her eyes in time to see a steel claw where the girl�s
perfectly manicured hand had been. All five talons had driven themselves into
the tile floor, creating tiny craters where her head had been seconds before.
The world as she knew it split apart, and everything Claire had ever
considered feasible within the realm of reality was now a pipe dream.
The young Claire was turning her head. For the first time, the older Claire
noticed what seemed so off about this
girl, besides the obvious metallic claw. Her actions were fluid.
Inhumanly so.
As if to prove the point about Claire�s new observation, the girl � no, the thing
� spoke again. The voice it used was shifting away from anything remotely homo
sapien. �Do not vex me, human. Submit.�
She would have screamed, would have liked to, but her adrenal glands were
once more in full production mode and had somehow forgotten that step. Instead,
she was scrambling for the door. Dissecting the impossibility of the scenario
would have to wait. She had to get away.
Oh fuck oh fuck.
The thunder of her heart struck against her rib cage, making her feel like
her chest would burst. She scrambled along the floor, crawling like a baby for a
few feet before heaving herself upward.
She stood, then promptly fell.
The Terminator wannabe had its freehand wrapped around her prosthesis. She
gave a swift, backward kick that knocked it in the head, and Claire swore she
heard a reverberating clang.
The thing let go.
Taking whatever strength she had left, the human woman got to her feet and
skidded around the corner, out into the hall and down to the front door. She
had locked it, she knew she had. It was still closed, which meant that the
thing in the bathroom had gotten in via some other route. Claire�s hand closed
around the doorknob, and she yanked the door aside before rushing into the cool
air outside. She held herself suspended in time, staring out between the car
from hell and the listening for the creature behind her. It was coming, she knew this, so it was with little choice that she
raced forward.
The car was no longer on, and the keys were inside. Running up the block to
a neighbor�s house seemed to be the only option left.
She was just passing the Datsun on her way to
supposed safety when the car started.
Slowly, she turned her head around. Her body naturally followed.
The door opened � by itself.
�Get in,� the car demanded.
She was going to pass out.
�Hurry,� the car added.
Claire wavered in place like a reed. Her vision was going crazy � everything
was blurring and weaving in front of her.
- a stolen car, a female Terminator, and now
said stolen car was a possessed talking car -
Eyes rolling into the back of her head, Claire�s body crumpled to the
concrete as her knees gave out.
She thought she heard the car curse, and then there was sweet, noiseless
bliss as she knew no more.

Something tickled her face. She swiped
a hand at it. That seemed to do the trick.
Another scratchy caress.
Her hand rose and reacted as before, but the persistent sensation returned
after a brief intermission.
There was a pregnant pause, and then Claire cracked one eye open. Something
long and sinuous was rubbing up against her cheek. She batted at it again, and
as her vision came into focus she realized it was a long strand of grass
blowing in the breeze.
When her bearings came to her, she realized she was laying flat on her back,
staring up at an open sky. For a moment fear rose in her gut, and she couldn�t
remember where she was or how she had gotten there. The young woman rose,
bending at the waist, and shifted so that she was lying on her side. Her weight
rested heavily on a crooked elbow.
Where am I�?
She had had the craziest of dreams. There had been haunted cars and monsters
disguised as herself. She got a good chuckle from that.
That was, until she realized she was still in her damp, dirty pajamas �
and that she was lying out in a weed-choked field
in the middle of nowhere �
and that there were two large, plated sculptures
some fifteen feet away �
and that by raising her gaze from the beginning to
end, she could ascertain they weren�t sculptures after all, but �
Her mind blanched from the visual overload that her eyes presented. Life
just sucked when reality didn�t conform to the expectations you had for
it.
It was the car. Emphasis on was.
At the base, brown weeds swept against a bumper. Above that were rear
headlights, and still further up was the Datsun�s
rear window. She instantly recognized it, because WASH ME had
been halved in two. The rear window now appeared to be part of the plating on
two massive legs. Above the window �shields�, the bipedal thing had two robotic
legs that connected to a similar waist. Its chest consisted of the hood to the Datsun, and she could plainly see the faded �38�. It had
two massive arms, and the Datsun�s driver and
passenger door were swept out on either side of its broad shoulders like wings.
Two behemoth cannons rested above its head, somehow connected to its back.
They moved independently of each other, and swiveled this way and that like an
ant�s antennae. The head of the giant monstrosity was not in proportion to its
enormous bulk, but it definitely had humanoid features.
Two glowing blue orbs flickered at her, and it took her a second to realize
that it might have been its way of blinking. It was gray of face, and atop its
head was a blue helmet. Whether or not that came off, she could not know.
Golden extensions that resembled horns adorned the top of the helmet. The
features on the thing were best described as sculpted or chiseled, all the way
down to the pronounced chin. It was all metal, after all.
She had to tip her head back all the way to get these last little details.
The mechanical leviathan had to be at least over two stories high.
Holy�
She reached over, her jaw still slack, and pinched herself - hard.
Nothing.
Claire was still in the middle of bumfudge-nowhere
staring up at a good wrestling match for Godzilla.
�Uh�� she began meekly, not sure where to begin. There weren�t
exactly instructions on this. Technically, it shouldn�t be possible. None of it
should be. Technically, she should just snap awake, safe at home in her own bed
where giant talking cars and killer clones did not exist except in nightmares.
But no, this� this was the waking world and she was not dreaming.
�Uh��
�You have a very eloquent way with words,� it said.
That alone was enough to get her to her feet. She stumbled
a step or two, and then took off running. She couldn�t take any more of the
Twilight Zone. Sooner or later she would run into a nice officer of the law and
he could politely tell her she had been hooked on the hookah all along before
carting her off to the funny farm.
It seemed sure seemed like a pleasant idea at that point, God willing.
She staggered away a bit more, putting as much distance between them as her
battered body would allow. Her head was warring with a migraine, and her foot
still needed that band-aide. Not only that, she was aching all over.
�What are you doing, human?� the giant asked boredly.
Claire stopped, and then pivoted around to face the former Datsun. She wanted to scream, cry, throw herself down
beating the dirt in a fit of compounded emotions, but she didn�t. Instead, she
tried to rationalize the thing�s presence.
Cool it, Claire. Think. This thing isn�t real� can be rationalized. Your
car got stolen and you hit your head when you fell.
Yes, that was most likely the reason for the thing�s presence. She had
struck her head when she tripped over her neighbor�s sprinkler. The mechanical
monster was just a figment of her imagination, brought about from too much
emotional toil. People created multiple identities, why couldn�t she have a
talking car?
The more she thought about it, the better she felt. She compartmentalized
her fears and used logic to tuck them away into a neat, tidy bundle somewhere
in her brain�s basement.
�Okay, first thing, don�t call me �human�.�
The huge humanoid raised what looked to be a
shutter over one eye. A skeptical look? It opened its
mouth, as if to speak further.
Claire held up a hand, effectively silencing him. �Second, since you are
just something my subconscious created, I want to please ask that you go away.
Vanish, poof.�
The metal ridge above one of its blue eyes rose even further.
�Got it? I don�t want to see you again. I can understand you coming around
after the car got stolen, but it�s high time you moved on. I can handle it from
here, thanks.�
Claire waited, and tapped her foot impatiently against the dusty desert
floor. She browsed the scenery with a meandering gaze, and then looked up
again.
It was still there. Not only was it still there, it was shaking. It shook so
hard it sent vibrations along the ground that made her jitter in place.
Oh my god. It�s laughing at me.
�HEY!� Claire snapped her fingers several times, attempting to capture the
thing�s attention. Its head was tipped back slightly, mouth open. The sound it
made was somewhere between a steady thrum and a male chortle. It didn�t seem to
notice her, which sparked her ire even further.
�DOWN HERE, FATSO!�
The laughter died just as soon as it had begun, and the creature took one
step forward. The result echoed throughout the nearby area, and left Claire
keenly aware that despite it being part of her imagination, it was rather
large.
Large things with big feet just have to go stomp stomp
stomp and it�s goodbye
Claire.
It loomed over her. �What did you call me?� She forgot to breathe.
It�s just your imagination. Imaginations can�t hurt you. It sounded
like she was trying to convince herself of that theory.
�You� heard me,� she replied rather dumbly.
�Did you just call me fat�?� Then, to her surprise and chagrin, it started
to look itself over. It inspected itself to the left, and then to the right, and
then it looked down one arm.
Oh yeah, this is definitely a part of my mind.
�Uh�� Maybe the thing was right; she was awful at words.
The giant stopped examining itself long enough to frown. �I think your
processor is in the pit.�
�Say what?� Claire blinked.
�You�re wrong,� it explained dryly.
�I just said it to shut you up!�
�Fleshlings are such funny creatures.�
�Creatures!?� her indignation was back full force. �I think you need
to take a look in the mirror, buddy.�
It bent over, and gazed down over its lower legs where the Datsun�s rear window was located on each massive trunk. Its
�eyes� flickered several times, and Claire began to form the idea that it was
attempting to see itself in the grimy glass. After a matter of seconds, it
straightened once more and shot her an accusatory stare. �I would have been
able to if someone had seen to it that I was clean. I did ask.�
Her jaw fell open.
�YOU wrote that?�
�Who else?�
�I thought�� Oh no, she was NOT having an argument with an emotional crutch
formed by her stressed subconscious. This situation was getting more bizarre by
the second, and she didn�t need to be a raving basket case even more than she
already was. She could deal with the fact that she had blacked out and had
dreamed up a Terminator that happened to look like herself. It was merely the
fear of being hurt by the carjacker, and somehow that had insinuated itself in
her mind. She was certain there was some psychological phenomenon out there
that explained that. Claire could also grudgingly admit to creating a robotic
giant to save her from said killer (another function of the subconscious, of
course), but the thing she could not handle was conversing with it. It
had to go.
�Whatever. If you aren�t leaving, I am. Screw this acid trip.�
Its features registered what might have been confusion. �Why would you want
to trip in acid?�
She just stared at it balefully. �Yeeeeahhh� like
I said, I�m outta here.�
�You�re leaving after I saved your life, Claire?� The thing had a bass voice
as one might expect from something of its stature and girth, but it wasn�t an
intimidating or booming modulation.
One eyebrow hooked high on her forehead. �You know my name?�
A pause, and then she snorted.
�Of course you would, duh. You know, I have to commend myself. I didn�t know
I was so creative that I would come up with a hallucination as crazy as you.�
She was prattling nervously now, a bit put off by the fact that the delusional
world she had dreamt up hadn�t yet collapsed around her so she could wake. A
tiny worm of doubt started to crawl through her mind, whispering dangerous
words.
What if this is real?
Whatifwhatifwhatifwhatif�
Her head hurt again, reminding her that she had to wake up, soon. Before she
could tell the giant off one final time, it took another step towards her. A
quietly abrasive chatter of gears filled the air, adding to Claire�s
discomfiture. It knelt on one knee, resting its weight just above one of the
window plates shielding its legs.
�I am called Smokescreen,� it stated matter-of-factly. With its face lower,
Claire could pick up more detail in its �features�. Its �eyes� would pulsate,
growing larger and smaller as if dilating � or adjusting � to view the tiny
human before it. This action alone created a small whirring noise, and Claire
was vaguely reminded of the sound a camera made when focusing in on a subject.
It was nearly the same noise.
�Oooohh no,� she held up a finger, wagging
it in front of the leviathan. �You do not get a name. You are not naming
yourself. That�s over the top.�
�I wasn�t the one who gave me my name.�
Claire�s face flashed it a stricken glance.
Oh god, please do not let me lose it.
�OF COURSE NOT!� Claire threw up both arms
helplessly. �I was! I named you! Some delusional section of my brain created
you, and now you say you have a name. I did that! I�ve lost my marbles! The
second step to insanity is naming the thing no one else can see! The first
is speaking to it!�
Silence filled the empty space between them after she stopped using the
airwaves to let her paranoia be known.
Slowly, the thing �Smokescreen � smiled.
�I am real.�
I am real. The words ripped down her spine, tearing asunder any hope
for reconciliation with the last of her sanity.
�N-n-no,� she refused him, and took an unsteady step backwards.
The heavy weight of knowledge broadsided her, lifting the veil her mind had
construed to keep her from crashing.
The universe shifted again. Some things were gained, and some lost forever.
Ignorance was the one precious thing she could not regain.
She felt robbed.
�Wh-wh-what are you� wh-wh-wh-�
No coherent sentence could be formed.
It seemed to understand this, and centered her with a look that might have
been pity. �I am an Autobot. I found you because the Decepticons would have tried to first� and they nearly
did.�
�Dec� Dec� Autobot?� Her mind reeled.
�Yes, we�re from another planet.�
It was as if the world had been a droplet of water that had suddenly hit the
ground, splashing apart all around her. There was nothing she could do to
collect the fragments, to reunite the whole of the thing that had been taken
from her.
This, she knew, was change in action. Fate, even.
It was too surreal for her to stand. Her breath was coming a little too
quickly, and she consciously tried to slow her respiration. It was no use; her
heart was pounding with her anxiety. She had been through so much in just one
day.
Suddenly, she was acutely aware that she was so very, very tired.
Despite the shock, the fear, the paranoia � her systems were beginning to
shut down and the base need for sleep overrode all else.
She sank into the grass, on her knees. Thoughts of alien creatures and
unknown worlds where man had never gone took a backseat to exhaustion. These thoughts
skipped freely of her mind, and for once that night she felt just a little bit
better.
�Tired,� Claire mumbled.
The large Smokescreen thing was observing her like one would an interesting
specimen. Its expression was unreadable. �You can go offline,� it said idly.
�They won�t find you here.�
Offline. It sounded like a nice place to be
just then.
The world faded away as Claire lay down against a patch of scrub brush. It
didn�t necessarily blip out of existence until the last second, when enough of
it had become incomprehensible to her senses.
Still, even as she lost herself to the safety of sleep, she couldn�t shake
the feeling that she was just finding another way to escape.

Disclaimer: I do not own
Transformers. All recognizable characters are the property of HasTak. All original characters are mine.
A/N: I just wanted to thank everyone for their reviews, you guys are
great. You are what keeps me writing! Well� that and
the story itself is pretty fun.
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The Human Stain