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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.

Chapter List
- 6
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- 8
The Human Stain:
Chapter 7
It's the perfect time
of year

Somewhere far away from here

I feel fine enough, I guess

Considering everything's a mess
- Barenaked Ladies,
Pinch Me

��.
Before she existed here, she existed before, in memory.
��.
She is standing in the
Santa Cruz High parking lot, a place she hadn�t been in a great while. She is
sixteen, nearly seventeen now. These things she knows just as much as she knows
her own name.
�Claire.�
Claire turns, seeking the
one who sundered the silence. The sun is bright in her eyes and she blinks
rapidly.
�Jen?� Her voice doesn't
echo across the lot, instead, it is swallowed by the sunlight, seamlessly
slipping into eerie silence.
�You can do it.�
Claire glances down at her
new plastic leg, surprised to find that she is surprised to see it. How did�
Oh�
A switch goes on in her
head, and it is suddenly clear why.
�I c-can�t go in,� Claire
stammers, �I�m not the same. They will point and stare.�
�You haven�t changed,� her
best friend says, stepping closer.
�I�m not good enough,� she
insists desperately, �I can�t face them, I don�t have a choice.�
There were always choices,
and none of them easy, but she had always known that.
There is still time to
walk away.
Her brain goes cold.
Jen�s smile is slow and
simple. The brunette shakes her head, and Claire wonders why her childhood
friend seems so much older.
�You�re holding on too
hard.� The meaning doesn�t seem to apply to returning to school anymore, but
there is no quick answer as to why this is so. Her mind is foggy.
�Why are you here?�
��For you.�
�I�ve never done anything
like this before. How will I know what to do?�
Jen cocks her head to one
side, and a waterfall of hair streams over one shoulder.
�But you have. That�s why
we�re here.�
That�s why we�re here.
The words were familiar,
even if Jen�s placid expression wasn�t.
Claire stares at nothing,
all the memories flooding down, threatening to sweep her away, the memory of
loss, and then the memory of the present, and then the memory of before,
and �
��.

Claire
woke up before the sun.
A cool breeze blew across
her skin, drying the sweat of fear that had bubbled up as she dreamed.
Processing her senses into
some semblance of order, the woman grimaced when she moved. She was layered in
a thin sheen of perspiration from head to toe, the product of night sweats. Her
pajamas were sticking to her in stiff patches, breaking only when she moved her
aching limbs. In short, she felt pretty disgusting. She needed to pee quite
badly, and a shower wouldn�t hurt. The results of last night�s events hit her
like a slap upside the head, and she ran a frustrated hand through her matted
hair. Oddly enough, it wasn�t panic or a barrage of solutions that first came
to mind.
I bet I smell something
awful.
Bracing herself for the
worst, she raised one arm and smelled the concave area just below her left
shoulder.
Affirmative, Captain.
Scrunching her nose and
sighing in defeat, Claire glumly lanced her gaze over at the source of her
frustration. The Datsun was once again nothing more than a vehicle sitting
solidly upon all four wheels like cars did. For a split second, she felt a
small hope flicker within her that there was nothing amiss, and that all should
be as it should.
Why were you sleeping
out here, then?
Good point.
Pulling herself to her
feet, Claire attempted to dust herself off when a dull pain coursed its way up
her nervous system. The bleeding on the sole of her foot had long since crusted
over, but standing had reopened the wound. Great, just great.
�I need to go home,� she
said suddenly. Yes, it was quite possible home was no longer a safe place, but
she would take her chances. There was no way she was going around like she was,
simply no way.
As if on cue, the car �
Smokescreen, was it? � replied to her. �They know to find you there now.�
A cacophonous quiet
settled between them, and Claire could hear a coyote declare his presence
somewhere along the western range. From her right, she could hear the steady
din of cars. A highway was nearby, which indicated people were as well. If
there were people, there weren�t shapeshifting cars.
Well, possibly. It was
also possible too that those people weren�t really people � maybe they were all
transforming androids like the thing from last night.
The world seemed to rise
all around her, swallowing the shadows of all that seemed safe. She was
underneath a warming sky, but there was neither shade nor shelter from the
harsh reality she found herself left with.
She was wracking her
brains swiftly, trying to think of a response that wasn�t as disheartening as
what she was really thinking when Smokescreen started his engine.
�I don�t care,� she
finally said. A rattle of sound escaped her lips as she breathed out a sigh.
�Why did that � Decepta-whatever try to kill me? Did you know it was coming?�
�I will attempt to inform
you of everything in due time.�
�Why not now?�
�Because�� it began.
Claire suddenly cut the
car off.
�I need to go to the
bathroom.� Some part of her was still in some suspension of disbelief that she
was talking to something-that-should-not-be. Not only that, she had just told
it she had to find a toilet.
�Bathroom?� it questioned,
and there was a bad moment when Claire thought she would have to explain
herself. Heat rose in her neck, flushing the skin beneath her dirt-caked
cheeks. Her modesty was just about to be impugned upon.
It didn�t allow her enough
time, however.
�Oh,� Smokescreen rumbled.
�Oh?� she said, turning
his single word into a query.
�I just looked it up. I
would have rather gone on in my own ignorance, but we can�t have everything,�
the car remarked dryly.
She was going to die. �You
just looked it up?�
�I am connected to your
Internet.�
Claire wanted to dig
herself a deep hole and never emerge. �What did you��
�It was an instructional
video for sparklings of your species.�
The thin line of Claire�s
mouth stretched tight and pulled down. She did not know what a �sparkling� was,
but the context gave her a pretty good idea. �Eh�� Her face was on fire.
�It seems to be a very
private matter to you humans, yet you go into great depth about various aspects
of it. You put all knowledge possible pertaining to it on your Internet, but
you seem to find it disquieting now. You are very contradictory creatures, you
know.�
She blew a wisp of hair
out of her eyes and leveled the car with a dark look. Her embarrassment began
to seep out of her stiff shoulders, leaving her a bit miffed. The way the car
went on made her sound like some curious zoological organism. She was a person,
damnit, and she would make it see that.
�Don�t call me
contradictory, Franken-car.�
�Franken-car? An
interesting conjunction.� The motor continued to run steadily, uninterrupted.
Several seconds slipped by, as if it were thinking or browsing �their
Internet�, and then it did the unexpected.
The windshield wipers
arced, making a single pass.
There wasn�t a drop of
water in the sky. Claire glanced up, ascertained the burgeoning dawn was a
cloudless one, and then lifted an eyebrow at Smokescreen. It took several
moments for her mind to process what it might have meant by its strange action,
and then it hit her like a brick.
The damn car had just done
the equivalent of an eyeroll.
Of course, in vehicle form
it did not have eyes. � but this was just something that could be worked
around.
�Did you just��
�I find your creativity
lacking.� It sounded bored.
�Look, I never said
I was creative.�
�Yes, you did,�
Smokescreen countered.
Stumped, she dropped the
accusing digit she had been sticking in its general direction. After rewinding
through a bit of their conversation yesterday, she made a strangled sound from
somewhere in her throat. �That�s because I thought you were something that my
mind made up, because this WHOLE THING is surreal!�
�What is so unbelievable?�
She gave a derisive snort.
�You�re talking, for one.�
�I find it more compelling
that I would have the capacity for language when compared to a pulsating muscle
locked inside a calcium container.�
Flustered and having no
recourse for that statement, she aimed low. �Y-you�re such an asshole!�
�On the contrary, I would
feel it more appropriate that you carried that designation.�
�What!?�
�It�s simple. You have
one, I do not. And, if I am correct, you need to use it.�
It took her all of eight
seconds to pop her jaw shut after that.

They drove
along in silence. Claire had her hands crossed over her chest in the driver�s
side seat while she seethed. She refused to talk to the thing, or even
acknowledge it existed save for the fact she was sitting in it as it drove. At
first it had been rather unsettling to watch the steering wheel move of its own
accord, but her continuing anger overrode any qualms her sensibilities
presented after a minute or two.
She hadn�t known it very
long � and she used the word �it� as anyone rightly should � after all, it was
a machine. Machines did not have genders. She had read about a robot that was
created in the likeness of a Japanese female once, but it didn�t make it
female. Claire did not care how many life-like qualities they gave it; it
didn�t have hormones or a reproductive system. Smokescreen sounded male, but it
was all an illusion � just like the Japanese robot. It seemed to have a keen
intelligence, and she briefly mused over what built it. It had called itself an
Autobot, from what she recalled � what was the higher creator that molded them?
Was it an alien? One of flesh and blood? Why would the giant car talk so
casually of �fleshlings� if it was? It would seem to her offensive to the one
that made it.
Then again, this
Smokescreen seemed to be an offensive entity by his very nature. What kind
of name was that, anyways? It made her feel slightly better in a most peevish
way to think his name stupid. It sounded like something you would set up in a
fireplace, anyway.
Her eyes were drawn out
the driver�s side window, and she watched the lines of scenery blur by. They
had pulled onto the highway just as the sun was coming up, and no one had
suspected anything amiss. The cars and trucks they passed were all given
suspicious appraisals by Claire, even while she refused to talk to the alien
life form encasing her in its cab. She had many biting questions at the back of
her brain, each begging in its own way to be answered. There were so many
things she did not understand, but she felt she would in time � but the problem
was not the time, it was the lack of it. Both then and now, the world seemed
shattered and poorly glued together, almost as if it was an accident and
someone was trying to cover it up. No one noticed that everything was suddenly
off-kilter, but she did. No one could point out the fault lines suddenly
running through her life, the fractured edges where everything had broken
apart.
But Claire could see them.
The need to urinate was
growing stronger by the second, and she did not know where Smokescreen was
taking her. She just knew that it knew that time was of the essence.
�We had better be heading
for my house. Are we almost there?� The clich�d question that popped from
between her lips earned her another pass of the windshield wipers.
Balling her hand into a
fist, Claire brought the lower end down hard on the dashboard. �Stop that!�
�Why?� The question was
genuinely curious, and he seemed unphased by the blow.
�Because it�s rude,� she
supplied.
�As is striking the one
transporting you. I know humans are subject to violent tendencies, but��
�I�ll show you violent��
She would have said more,
but something stopped her mouth from forming the rest of her sentence.
The scene that unfolded
through the driver�s side window was quite chaotic. Rubble littered a square
patch of land where she had known a small bar to have existed. She couldn�t
quite recall the name of it, but she had passed it by several times since
moving to Nevada.
It had recently been renovated, upgraded from the status of hole-in-the-wall to
happenin�-hot-spot, if there were such places in Boulder City.
Now, though � it was just
a fractured mess of wood, concrete, glass and other objects strewn in disarray
about the landscape. Small pit fires burned in spots where the debris was piled
the highest, and Claire could make out the imprint of the building�s foundation
at the center of the mess. Oddly, there was a deep orifice nearby the remnants
of the foundation, almost as if someone was digging a deep pit next to the
building. The cavity was still smoking, leading her to wonder. It was like
ground zero, and she could only reason that the bar�s boiler had exploded
during the night.
I hope everyone got out
safely.
There were people present,
too. Flashing lights sat beneath three ambulances, two fire trucks, and at
least five police cruisers. What looked like battle-worn refugees congregated
in close clusters, speaking animatedly with officers. Claire was surprised to
find that Smokescreen had slowed, but upon looking forward she could see why.
The sparse traffic along the highway had created a blockage as people slowed to
gawk. The car ahead of the Datsun was inching along at less than five miles an
hour as it passed through. Some small part of Claire was thankful for this, and
she indulged her curiosity by staring out at the scene once more.
�I wonder what happened,�
she asked quietly.
�You wouldn�t believe it
if I told you,� came her answer.
�You know?!� Eyes
widening, the young woman straightened in her seat and tapped the steering
wheel. �Do tell!�
�You humans are really a
nosey lot.�
Irritated, Claire chuffed.
�You are not helping.�
�I never claimed I would.�
They began to speed up as
the drivers ahead of them lost sight of the fiasco, and Claire was just about
to slump down in defeat when something � no, someone � caught her eye.
Miguel.
She would know his face
from anywhere � the tanned skin, the shock of blue-black hair. His angular
features and aquiline nose suggested at a more Spanish ancestry than anything
else, and it was all these things that led her to recognize him. He was
standing next to the road, along the shoulder where the asphalt turned to
gravel. Next to him was a plump woman who made the Boyd men look positively
waifish. Both Miguel and the woman wore the expressions of holocaust survivors.
They were slumped slightly forward, as if standing straight caused them a great
deal of discomfort.
�Stop.�
�Why?�
�Just do it, okay? I know
that man.� She pressed a finger to the driver�s side window, and leaned her
face close to the glass.
The engine sputtered like
a first-generation Ford Model T. �You�re secreting oil all over me!�
�Slow down or I�ll breathe
all over you too.� Her lips were dangerously close to the window.
That brooked no argument.
The engine made a high, tinny sound before pulling to the side and slowing to a
stop. Claire leaned away from the glass, satisfied with the result, and opened
the door. The car�s exhaust was emitting charcoal-gray smoke in noxious clouds,
and she faintly wondered if Smokescreen was acting huffy.
No matter.
�Miguel!� she held up one
hand. The Hispanic man turned, eyeing her with a weary look. He did not appear
to make the connection in his mind immediately, but as she stepped closer
realization dawned on his haggard face. She noticed that he had a deep scar
streaked across one cheek. His skin was darker than normal, and it took her a
moment to see why � he was coated in ash.
�Claire�?!� he said
in disbelief.
She limped to a halt a few
feet away, still favoring her prosthesis.
Time skipped a beat, and
then Miguel filled the pregnant pause before she could. �You look like hell.�
She was about to say the
same of him. Glancing down at her dirty pajama top and bottoms, she lost
herself to a nervous laugh. She had been so concentrated on how bad helooked
that she hadn�t factored in how she might appear.
It was like some big,
cosmic joke. Someone up there was getting his jimmies out of this.
�I�ve been through hell,�
she said solemnly.
�Us too,� he agreed,
gesturing to the woman next to him. �This is Teresa, she was with me when The
Broken Spoke� broke.�
�Nice to meet you,� the
short woman next to him offered. She had the same sort of accent Miguel had �
nothing thick, but there was a resonant quality that bespoke of their Latin
origins.
Claire began to work her
fingers through her scraggly hair, attempting to straighten it. She was
barefoot, dirty, and she smelled bad � but suddenly it became inanely important
that her hair was free of knots. Nodding to Teresa, Claire once more returned
her focus to Miguel�s weary face. A deep line had been created in the space
between his thick eyebrows, and Claire wondered if he would ever be able to rid
himself of it.
�What happened here? It
broke�?�
�It�� Miguel trailed
uncertainly, trading a quick look of indecisiveness with Teresa. They both
seemed very troubled by something.
�It�� Claire encouraged
him on.
�It�s too loco. I
don�t even think I remember it right,� Miguel said helplessly.
Claire fell silent. It
sounded quite consistent with what she would like to tell him.
It was Teresa piped up
next. �It was a monster.� Her voice was grave and thin, eyes downcast. Somehow,
that explanation was all Claire needed.
�Was it about my height,
looked kind of like me? Metal talons, like Freddy Krueger?�
She could not possibly
expect the backlash that she received for that.
Miguel was not amused.
�What the hell, do you think this is some joke to us!?� he spat in disgust.
�This really happened. We really saw something. If you�re not here to help, I
think you�d better go.�
Both of them were glaring
at her, and it took Claire a moment to realize that they might have encountered
something besides her killer clone. Her face registered surprise.
Wait, that means there
are more than just�
�Leave us alone.� Miguel
was turning away, one hand slung over Teresa�s low shoulders.
�Wait!� Claire lunged
forward, encircling her hand around Miguel�s free bicep. �I didn�t mean to come
across as sarcastic, I mean that��
�What did you mean,
Claire?� Miguel glanced back over his shoulder, eyes narrowed and dangerous.
�I mean that I saw
something that looked like that. It tried to kill me. What did you see?� Her
gray eyes met his brown ones, entreating upon him to hear her out. There was a
certain hopelessness to the way she held on to his arm, as if losing whatever
tenuous experience they both shared during that night was the last thing they
should do.
Slowly, his body followed
the direction of his head. Teresa, by extension, also turned on her heel and
faced Claire once more. The woman was still staring at the ground. �You�re
serious?�
Claire nodded, once.
�You know how fucking
nuts that sounds, right?� he continued.
Again, she nodded.
�I wouldn�t be even close
to believing you if I hadn�t been through that shit last night.�
Teresa began to tremble, a
fine shake that shivered through her body quivered her lower lip. �It was El
Diablo,� she whispered.
�Might have been,� Miguel
agreed. �Whatever it was, it was huge. It picked The Spoke right off the ground
and threw the entire thing on top of the owner. He had a gun, he tried to shoot
at it�� Miguel paused and his eyes momentarily lost focus. He was still looking
at Claire, but not at her � through her. He was seeing something else. He
stayed like this a second longer, and then suddenly jerked. �Didn�t do a damn
thing,� he finished. �We ran for it, and woke up later on the side of a hill.
That�s when the cops started showing up.�
Claire listened to Miguel
in disbelief. �Are you sure?� she questioned when he finished.
He gave a simple nod.
�Unless I got hit with something and dreamt it all� but, the thing is�� he
glanced down to Teresa as he said it, �she saw it too. Everyone did.� One of
his calloused hands swept outward towards the larger mass of people still
gathered around the emergency vehicles. Claire, Miguel and Teresa stood twenty
feet away from them, but even with the distance Claire could not mistake the
doubt in the voices of the officers or the panic in the eyes of the witnesses.
�I think I know what that
was,� Claire finally said.
Miguel had followed her
gaze, but whipped his head around when he heard this. �You�ve seen metal giants
too?�
�Yeah, I guess I have.
I�ll explain� in the car.� Her tenor turned cryptic. �Do you guys have a ride?�
�Naw, my truck and her car
were completely destroyed. We were going to call for a ride.�
�I�ll drive you,� Claire
offered.
�That would be great,� he
said. He sounded exhausted.
It was about then that
Claire remembered that the Datsun was a two-seater, and this realization made
her curse aloud. �Oh, wait, I forgot� my car can only fit - �
About the same time, she
had been turning around to regard said car � only it wasn�t the way she had left
it.
There, in the place she
had left the 1979 Datsun, was a 2003 four-door Subaru Impreza.
� � four people,� she
finished with a wheeze.

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. All
recognizable characters are the property of HasTak. All original characters are
mine.
A/N: This was a fun chapter for me,
especially the beginning. I like how Smoke and Claire�s relationship is
forming� or maybe how it�s taking a sudden nosedive. Either works. At any rate,
I just type as I go and the characters �tell� me how they would react to their
interaction with one another. Their conversation in this chapter just had me
grinning.
- 6
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- 8
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The Human Stain