FIC: Interruptions in the Key of C (Human Series)
Interruptions in the Key of C
By Keelywolfe
Bumblebee/Sam, Others
Rated R
Summary: A continuation of the ‘human’ series, which are in order:
Forms of Life
Too Human
Experiments in Human Nature
Public Education
Knee-Jerk Reaction
Nervous System Hypothesis
Different Applications of Moral Support
This Body Electric
The Unconscious Mind
Subliminal Messages
Greeks Bearing Gifts
In a Dark Ruby Stain
Notes: I worked hard to get this chapter out today because I think fyredancer needs it. ;) Enjoy, folks!
~~*~~
Of all the duties that Ratchet performed, calibration was one of the most delicate. On a weapon, the tiniest flaw or error could determine the lifespan of one of his fellow Autobots. Adjusting the energon output of a fuel capacitor was particularly delicate; energon being highly volatile, particularly in the more impure form they were forced to use until the refining process was perfected. It required the steadiest of hands, the sharpest concentration, to make the minuscule changes without causing it to literally blow up in his face.
"Is he awake? They said he was awake, is he all right?"
And before he began again, Ratchet was going to make sure every door to the infirmary was locked.
"He's resting now, Mikaela," Ratchet said, glancing up just long enough to see her expression wilt. Before he could return his attention to his work, the figure standing next to her caught his notice, obviously a holo form, as the humans had dubbed it. Hardly an appropriate term but none of the human languages had a word that Ratchet would consider an equivalent. How they managed to accomplish anything with such limited vocabularies was a question for another time. That this particular holo was holding Mikaela's hand made him narrow his gaze, running a quick scan and if he'd had eyebrows, he would have raised them. Prowl was an unexpected companion, particularly so quickly after Jazz had fallen--
Ratchet dismissed it as none of his concern. He'd involved himself in the intimate lives of more than enough beings at the moment and he had little interest in any other entanglements. Prowl could handle his own affairs.
"I just wanted to see him for a minute," Mikaela asked, her eyes pleading and Ratchet nearly relented. He'd allowed only select visitors this past week and Mikaela had not been on that very small list. A few moments wouldn't hurt and yet...
He switched his inner visualization to include the recovery room and frowned to see his patient was not where he had left him, was, in fact, curled up sleeping with the other patient. On top of the other patient and in a moment, Ratchet would return him to his own bed. Not that he believed Bumblebee would let the boy fall but they both needed their rest and Bumblebee was unlikely to do so if he was busy protecting his...there was hardly a word for that in the Human languages either.
"I'm afraid he's asleep and I refuse to disturb him when he has only just started recovering from his ordeal," Ratchet hedged, trying to weigh Mikaela's disappoint with Sam's embarrassment at being caught in such a position by his former girlfriend. More and more, Ratchet was wishing he'd simply let Bumblebee fry a few circuits and never involved himself in their relationship. It would have been easier to spend an hour every morning replacing them than to detangle himself from this wreck. But since he was involved, he would be involved and keeping this from getting any messier would be the best option.
Mikaela's disappointment was palpable and Ratchet relented slightly, offering, "If you like, I shall contact you when he awakens again? If Prowl will be with you, I can send the message to him," he added, ironically, and the way Prowl flushed and glanced away was almost interesting enough to question. Almost.
"That would be fine," Prowl said hurriedly, interpreting the sharpness in Ratchet's gaze correctly and he gingerly tugged Mikaela away as quickly as she would allow. She followed him reluctantly, pausing to shout back, "You better call me, Ratchet, you've been putting me off for days!"
"Yes, yes," Ratchet agreed absently, already focusing back on his calibrations. He had just begun the delicate process of soldering the transmogrifier when the door slammed open again and he nearly cut off his own finger with the laser knife.
"Have you powered him back on yet?" Sideswipe asked anxiously, his optics glowing sharply with his concern.
With great deliberation, Ratchet turned off the laser knife, set it aside, and turned to face Sideswipe before he spoke, clearly and slowly. "No, I have not, and as I didn't contact you to tell you I had, I fail to see why you are here checking. Would you care to explain?"
Sideswipe had the grace to look embarrassed. "I just thought--you said that you might be able to today and--"
"He's going to be fine, Sideswipe, but as of this moment, he still has some damage that needs seen to. Fried circuitry, stripped gears, overstressed struts," he ticked each one off on a finger. "This list goes on. And much as I would like to spend all of my time working on him, it's better to let his internal maintenance do some of the repairs before I begin ripping out parts. Everything I remove, I have to replicate to replace and we do not have the resources on this planet for me to do that efficiently. Better to repair than to replace at this point."
"I know," Sideswipe murmured, "I do know."
"I'll contact you as soon as I have him back online. For now, I have a great deal of other work to get done. But first," Ratchet added, coolly, before Sideswipe could turn away. "I'll thank you to not discuss what you believe to be my status as an emotional cripple with the human multitudes."
For a moment, Sideswipe said nothing, his confusion obvious, then awareness dawned. "Sam is hardly a multitude."
"Be that as it may, I'd prefer that you keep your perceptions of me to yourself.""
"Oh, come on, Ratchet," Sideswipe said, exasperated. "Sam was upset. I had to tell him something. Did you really think that you'd be able to give Bumblebee a quick training session and Sam would understand, and it would end at that?"
"My concern was with Bumblebee keeping his circuits intact, not with the status of their relationship. I expected that Bumblebee would take care of the emotional aspects and once again, I was wrong. I continually find myself playing the role of counselor when my focus is supposed to be on physical repairs!"
Sideswipe laughed, softly, "His circuits are probably the least of your concerns. You have no idea how strong the emotions can be in a simi relationship and they are far more dangerous than any blown circuit." He leaned against Ratchet's work table and every item on it wobbled dangerously. "You've never tried it, you have no idea how it feels to have one of them love you."
"Oh, yes. I'm certain Sunstreaker felt nothing but pure emotion for every organic being he imitated in order to coerce them into a sexual relationship."
Sideswipe flinched, recoiling physically and internally from his words, strongly enough that Ratchet felt the strength of his firewalls increasing instinctively.
It was a rare thing for Ratchet to regret his words. He knew that others thought of him as curt and perhaps even uncaring but what he said, he meant. In this case, however, his honestly could have been gentler. "My apologies; that was uncalled for."
"It's true." Sideswipe said, so softly. "But I wish you wouldn't use Sunstreaker as a measure for Sam and Bumblebee. Call me when he's awake?"
"I will," Ratchet agreed, and part of him still ached in regret over his words. But he had little enough time as it was and none at all to wallow in his regret and instead he returned his attention to his work. One component was properly adjusted and he was beginning on a second when a soft, deep voice came from the other door, startling him. "You were quite short with him."
Ratchet slapped down his laser knife in exasperation. At this rate, he'd be working on the same fuel capacitor until the return of Primus. "I do not need personal assessments from someone who can't even handle their own entanglements and I certainly don't need him to share those assessments with others."
"Part of those entanglements was by your recommendation." Prime reminded him.
"I'm well aware of that." Ratchet sighed. He set his work aside and stood. Better to be far away from a volatile fuel source when he relayed this information. "As fascinating as it would be to discuss this, Sideswipe isn't the reason I contacted you. I preferred to speak of it in person." He and Optimus were not of a height, but few Autobots were. Ratchet had to tip his head up to look up at their leader, studying his form. With his facial protection removed, the lines of his face exposed and faintly reflecting the light of his optics, it was easy to see his concern. So much of his emotions were exposed in his face; perhaps that was why Optimus preferred to wear his facial gear even when he wasn't actively engaged in battle.
Anxiety was inching its way into that concern and Ratchet did a quick scan of the area to make sure no one was in listening distance before he said, low, "When Bumblebee was infected, I discovered that Sunstreaker had a firewall that I couldn’t access. A particularly effective one; if he hadn't been so engaged in assisting Bumblebee, I might not have been able to bypass it."
Prime frowned deeply and switched to wifi, allowing Ratchet a private access. Did you run a scan on him?
Of course. It didn't turn up anything particularly incriminating. If he erased it, he did a very effective job of it. It's always possible he was simply uncomfortable with me having complete access to his systems, Ratchet offered.
He doesn't have the luxury of his discomfort. Remove it.
I already did and I inserted a back door program that only I can access if he decides to create another.
"Fine." Prime said curtly, returning to normal speech. "Disable any capacity he has for outgoing transmissions and run another scan on his databanks. From now on he will partner with Ironhide when he is on duty. Off-duty, he is confined to quarters."
Ratchet stared, taken aback. "That's a bit extreme, don't you think?"
"No, I do not or I wouldn't have ordered it."
Ratchet's silence spoke volumes and Prime sighed, relenting. "I have always been grateful for Sunstreaker's assistance when every available weapon was needed. But I have never trusted that weapon to stay facing the right direction."
"Sideswipe hasn't reported anything untoward," Ratchet said neutrally.
"Sideswipe has his own entanglements, as you noted, and his opinions where his brother is concerned are biased. Be that as it may, I will speak to him. I don't want to lose two soldiers if he chooses to side with his brother."
"He won't."
"You seem very confident."
"After you spend the equivalent of years wrist-deep in someone else's circuits, you get to know them quite well," Ratchet said wryly.
"Understood. I've never thought Sideswipe would abandon us for the Decepticons but the dedication one has to a brother...that I understand all too well." A hesitation. "I've been meaning to speak to you about another matter. We've received a few more transmissions from other Autobot contingents."
"Have we?" Ratchet sat back down at his work bench and turned his attention to his tools. Perhaps the smaller laser knife would be more effective; at the very least it would lessen the chances of his removing his own limbs by accident. He heard Prime moving behind him, stepping closer.
"We haven't received any transmissions from Ark-36 yet."
"Nor have we for a long time," Ratchet said calmly. "I am aware. Prowl updates me frequently."
"Does he?"
"Like so many others, he seems to feel I require a keeper." Acidly. "And since his detachment was the one most recently in contact with Ark-36, he seems to feel some responsibility towards it."
Large hands settled on his shoulders, stilling him with gentle pressure. "When was the last time you recharged?"
"There is nothing wrong with my energy banks." Ratchet shrugged off his light touch. Such a human gesture. "Do not attempt to engage me in intimacy after bringing up my former relations."
Prime sounded chagrined. "I wasn't--"
"You were and I'll remind you that you just assigned me extra duty. To use a human turn of phrase, don't get your hopes up."
"I'd like to think I was offering comfort to an old friend."
There was the lightest of rebuke to his tone and it was difficult not to respond to that, to gentle his own tone. He'd injured enough companions with his voice modulator for the day. "You were. And you do. Now, if you want me to get those scans done, I'll need to get started."
"Very well. Don't forget to get take care of yourself or the next patient here will be you."
He waved off the caution impatiently but before Optimus could leave, Ratchet called out. "Prime."
He heard Prime hesitate, kept his optics on his work. "I gave up on Wheeljack being alive some time ago. I don't need any of you to continually coddle me about it."
"Ratchet--"
"You may live in hope. I prefer reality and I am content in it. These continual reminders of what isn't do not comfort me. Please, stop. If there is a transmission from Ark-36, I will join everyone in rejoicing. I do not care to hear when there are none."
"Of course," Prime murmured.
"Besides, I'm trying hard enough to blow this damned fuel capacitor up on my own. If Wheeljack was here, we would already be cleaning up the remains of the table."
He looked up enough to see Optimus's mouth quirked into a smile. "There is some truth to that."
The door closed quietly behind him and Ratchet focused, again, on the fuel capacitor. Something seemed to be wrong with the laser knife, a faint tremor that could have explosive results and he finally pushed the capacitor aside, resting his head in his hand. He'd meant his comment on Wheeljack to be amusing, a diversion.
With a vicious gesture, he shoved the capacitor on the floor and the explosion was loud enough that his scanners detected his patients stirring uneasily. Very softly, he whispered, "I would be happy to rebuild this entire building, Wheeljack. The entire city wouldn't be too high a price."
His words echoed dully in the empty room and he stood, bending down to salvage what he could from the twisted, smoking pile of circuits half-buried into the floor. A few chosen tools, a few parts and he began the tedious process of rebuilding the fuel capacitor. It was not quite an hour later when yet another being interrupted his work, but with the same quiet thoughtfulness as they had every day that Ratchet had allowed them to visit. He nodded at her politely, a gesture that was returned, and he didn't bother to watch her slip through the doors to the recovery room.
His sensors told him that today was not going to be a day like any other, an alarm warning him that the heart rate of his patient had soared and Sam's raised voice was loud enough to be heard through several doors even by a human.
"Mom?!"
-finis-
Read Next Chapter
PS: My husband is a huge Transformer fan and he insisted that I had to use the word 'transmogrifier' somewhere. So I did, just for him. ;)
By Keelywolfe
Bumblebee/Sam, Others
Rated R
Summary: A continuation of the ‘human’ series, which are in order:
Forms of Life
Too Human
Experiments in Human Nature
Public Education
Knee-Jerk Reaction
Nervous System Hypothesis
Different Applications of Moral Support
This Body Electric
The Unconscious Mind
Subliminal Messages
Greeks Bearing Gifts
In a Dark Ruby Stain
Notes: I worked hard to get this chapter out today because I think fyredancer needs it. ;) Enjoy, folks!
~~*~~
Of all the duties that Ratchet performed, calibration was one of the most delicate. On a weapon, the tiniest flaw or error could determine the lifespan of one of his fellow Autobots. Adjusting the energon output of a fuel capacitor was particularly delicate; energon being highly volatile, particularly in the more impure form they were forced to use until the refining process was perfected. It required the steadiest of hands, the sharpest concentration, to make the minuscule changes without causing it to literally blow up in his face.
"Is he awake? They said he was awake, is he all right?"
And before he began again, Ratchet was going to make sure every door to the infirmary was locked.
"He's resting now, Mikaela," Ratchet said, glancing up just long enough to see her expression wilt. Before he could return his attention to his work, the figure standing next to her caught his notice, obviously a holo form, as the humans had dubbed it. Hardly an appropriate term but none of the human languages had a word that Ratchet would consider an equivalent. How they managed to accomplish anything with such limited vocabularies was a question for another time. That this particular holo was holding Mikaela's hand made him narrow his gaze, running a quick scan and if he'd had eyebrows, he would have raised them. Prowl was an unexpected companion, particularly so quickly after Jazz had fallen--
Ratchet dismissed it as none of his concern. He'd involved himself in the intimate lives of more than enough beings at the moment and he had little interest in any other entanglements. Prowl could handle his own affairs.
"I just wanted to see him for a minute," Mikaela asked, her eyes pleading and Ratchet nearly relented. He'd allowed only select visitors this past week and Mikaela had not been on that very small list. A few moments wouldn't hurt and yet...
He switched his inner visualization to include the recovery room and frowned to see his patient was not where he had left him, was, in fact, curled up sleeping with the other patient. On top of the other patient and in a moment, Ratchet would return him to his own bed. Not that he believed Bumblebee would let the boy fall but they both needed their rest and Bumblebee was unlikely to do so if he was busy protecting his...there was hardly a word for that in the Human languages either.
"I'm afraid he's asleep and I refuse to disturb him when he has only just started recovering from his ordeal," Ratchet hedged, trying to weigh Mikaela's disappoint with Sam's embarrassment at being caught in such a position by his former girlfriend. More and more, Ratchet was wishing he'd simply let Bumblebee fry a few circuits and never involved himself in their relationship. It would have been easier to spend an hour every morning replacing them than to detangle himself from this wreck. But since he was involved, he would be involved and keeping this from getting any messier would be the best option.
Mikaela's disappointment was palpable and Ratchet relented slightly, offering, "If you like, I shall contact you when he awakens again? If Prowl will be with you, I can send the message to him," he added, ironically, and the way Prowl flushed and glanced away was almost interesting enough to question. Almost.
"That would be fine," Prowl said hurriedly, interpreting the sharpness in Ratchet's gaze correctly and he gingerly tugged Mikaela away as quickly as she would allow. She followed him reluctantly, pausing to shout back, "You better call me, Ratchet, you've been putting me off for days!"
"Yes, yes," Ratchet agreed absently, already focusing back on his calibrations. He had just begun the delicate process of soldering the transmogrifier when the door slammed open again and he nearly cut off his own finger with the laser knife.
"Have you powered him back on yet?" Sideswipe asked anxiously, his optics glowing sharply with his concern.
With great deliberation, Ratchet turned off the laser knife, set it aside, and turned to face Sideswipe before he spoke, clearly and slowly. "No, I have not, and as I didn't contact you to tell you I had, I fail to see why you are here checking. Would you care to explain?"
Sideswipe had the grace to look embarrassed. "I just thought--you said that you might be able to today and--"
"He's going to be fine, Sideswipe, but as of this moment, he still has some damage that needs seen to. Fried circuitry, stripped gears, overstressed struts," he ticked each one off on a finger. "This list goes on. And much as I would like to spend all of my time working on him, it's better to let his internal maintenance do some of the repairs before I begin ripping out parts. Everything I remove, I have to replicate to replace and we do not have the resources on this planet for me to do that efficiently. Better to repair than to replace at this point."
"I know," Sideswipe murmured, "I do know."
"I'll contact you as soon as I have him back online. For now, I have a great deal of other work to get done. But first," Ratchet added, coolly, before Sideswipe could turn away. "I'll thank you to not discuss what you believe to be my status as an emotional cripple with the human multitudes."
For a moment, Sideswipe said nothing, his confusion obvious, then awareness dawned. "Sam is hardly a multitude."
"Be that as it may, I'd prefer that you keep your perceptions of me to yourself.""
"Oh, come on, Ratchet," Sideswipe said, exasperated. "Sam was upset. I had to tell him something. Did you really think that you'd be able to give Bumblebee a quick training session and Sam would understand, and it would end at that?"
"My concern was with Bumblebee keeping his circuits intact, not with the status of their relationship. I expected that Bumblebee would take care of the emotional aspects and once again, I was wrong. I continually find myself playing the role of counselor when my focus is supposed to be on physical repairs!"
Sideswipe laughed, softly, "His circuits are probably the least of your concerns. You have no idea how strong the emotions can be in a simi relationship and they are far more dangerous than any blown circuit." He leaned against Ratchet's work table and every item on it wobbled dangerously. "You've never tried it, you have no idea how it feels to have one of them love you."
"Oh, yes. I'm certain Sunstreaker felt nothing but pure emotion for every organic being he imitated in order to coerce them into a sexual relationship."
Sideswipe flinched, recoiling physically and internally from his words, strongly enough that Ratchet felt the strength of his firewalls increasing instinctively.
It was a rare thing for Ratchet to regret his words. He knew that others thought of him as curt and perhaps even uncaring but what he said, he meant. In this case, however, his honestly could have been gentler. "My apologies; that was uncalled for."
"It's true." Sideswipe said, so softly. "But I wish you wouldn't use Sunstreaker as a measure for Sam and Bumblebee. Call me when he's awake?"
"I will," Ratchet agreed, and part of him still ached in regret over his words. But he had little enough time as it was and none at all to wallow in his regret and instead he returned his attention to his work. One component was properly adjusted and he was beginning on a second when a soft, deep voice came from the other door, startling him. "You were quite short with him."
Ratchet slapped down his laser knife in exasperation. At this rate, he'd be working on the same fuel capacitor until the return of Primus. "I do not need personal assessments from someone who can't even handle their own entanglements and I certainly don't need him to share those assessments with others."
"Part of those entanglements was by your recommendation." Prime reminded him.
"I'm well aware of that." Ratchet sighed. He set his work aside and stood. Better to be far away from a volatile fuel source when he relayed this information. "As fascinating as it would be to discuss this, Sideswipe isn't the reason I contacted you. I preferred to speak of it in person." He and Optimus were not of a height, but few Autobots were. Ratchet had to tip his head up to look up at their leader, studying his form. With his facial protection removed, the lines of his face exposed and faintly reflecting the light of his optics, it was easy to see his concern. So much of his emotions were exposed in his face; perhaps that was why Optimus preferred to wear his facial gear even when he wasn't actively engaged in battle.
Anxiety was inching its way into that concern and Ratchet did a quick scan of the area to make sure no one was in listening distance before he said, low, "When Bumblebee was infected, I discovered that Sunstreaker had a firewall that I couldn’t access. A particularly effective one; if he hadn't been so engaged in assisting Bumblebee, I might not have been able to bypass it."
Prime frowned deeply and switched to wifi, allowing Ratchet a private access. Did you run a scan on him?
Of course. It didn't turn up anything particularly incriminating. If he erased it, he did a very effective job of it. It's always possible he was simply uncomfortable with me having complete access to his systems, Ratchet offered.
He doesn't have the luxury of his discomfort. Remove it.
I already did and I inserted a back door program that only I can access if he decides to create another.
"Fine." Prime said curtly, returning to normal speech. "Disable any capacity he has for outgoing transmissions and run another scan on his databanks. From now on he will partner with Ironhide when he is on duty. Off-duty, he is confined to quarters."
Ratchet stared, taken aback. "That's a bit extreme, don't you think?"
"No, I do not or I wouldn't have ordered it."
Ratchet's silence spoke volumes and Prime sighed, relenting. "I have always been grateful for Sunstreaker's assistance when every available weapon was needed. But I have never trusted that weapon to stay facing the right direction."
"Sideswipe hasn't reported anything untoward," Ratchet said neutrally.
"Sideswipe has his own entanglements, as you noted, and his opinions where his brother is concerned are biased. Be that as it may, I will speak to him. I don't want to lose two soldiers if he chooses to side with his brother."
"He won't."
"You seem very confident."
"After you spend the equivalent of years wrist-deep in someone else's circuits, you get to know them quite well," Ratchet said wryly.
"Understood. I've never thought Sideswipe would abandon us for the Decepticons but the dedication one has to a brother...that I understand all too well." A hesitation. "I've been meaning to speak to you about another matter. We've received a few more transmissions from other Autobot contingents."
"Have we?" Ratchet sat back down at his work bench and turned his attention to his tools. Perhaps the smaller laser knife would be more effective; at the very least it would lessen the chances of his removing his own limbs by accident. He heard Prime moving behind him, stepping closer.
"We haven't received any transmissions from Ark-36 yet."
"Nor have we for a long time," Ratchet said calmly. "I am aware. Prowl updates me frequently."
"Does he?"
"Like so many others, he seems to feel I require a keeper." Acidly. "And since his detachment was the one most recently in contact with Ark-36, he seems to feel some responsibility towards it."
Large hands settled on his shoulders, stilling him with gentle pressure. "When was the last time you recharged?"
"There is nothing wrong with my energy banks." Ratchet shrugged off his light touch. Such a human gesture. "Do not attempt to engage me in intimacy after bringing up my former relations."
Prime sounded chagrined. "I wasn't--"
"You were and I'll remind you that you just assigned me extra duty. To use a human turn of phrase, don't get your hopes up."
"I'd like to think I was offering comfort to an old friend."
There was the lightest of rebuke to his tone and it was difficult not to respond to that, to gentle his own tone. He'd injured enough companions with his voice modulator for the day. "You were. And you do. Now, if you want me to get those scans done, I'll need to get started."
"Very well. Don't forget to get take care of yourself or the next patient here will be you."
He waved off the caution impatiently but before Optimus could leave, Ratchet called out. "Prime."
He heard Prime hesitate, kept his optics on his work. "I gave up on Wheeljack being alive some time ago. I don't need any of you to continually coddle me about it."
"Ratchet--"
"You may live in hope. I prefer reality and I am content in it. These continual reminders of what isn't do not comfort me. Please, stop. If there is a transmission from Ark-36, I will join everyone in rejoicing. I do not care to hear when there are none."
"Of course," Prime murmured.
"Besides, I'm trying hard enough to blow this damned fuel capacitor up on my own. If Wheeljack was here, we would already be cleaning up the remains of the table."
He looked up enough to see Optimus's mouth quirked into a smile. "There is some truth to that."
The door closed quietly behind him and Ratchet focused, again, on the fuel capacitor. Something seemed to be wrong with the laser knife, a faint tremor that could have explosive results and he finally pushed the capacitor aside, resting his head in his hand. He'd meant his comment on Wheeljack to be amusing, a diversion.
With a vicious gesture, he shoved the capacitor on the floor and the explosion was loud enough that his scanners detected his patients stirring uneasily. Very softly, he whispered, "I would be happy to rebuild this entire building, Wheeljack. The entire city wouldn't be too high a price."
His words echoed dully in the empty room and he stood, bending down to salvage what he could from the twisted, smoking pile of circuits half-buried into the floor. A few chosen tools, a few parts and he began the tedious process of rebuilding the fuel capacitor. It was not quite an hour later when yet another being interrupted his work, but with the same quiet thoughtfulness as they had every day that Ratchet had allowed them to visit. He nodded at her politely, a gesture that was returned, and he didn't bother to watch her slip through the doors to the recovery room.
His sensors told him that today was not going to be a day like any other, an alarm warning him that the heart rate of his patient had soared and Sam's raised voice was loud enough to be heard through several doors even by a human.
"Mom?!"
-finis-
Read Next Chapter
PS: My husband is a huge Transformer fan and he insisted that I had to use the word 'transmogrifier' somewhere. So I did, just for him. ;)