Disclaimer: Transformers are not mine, but Destiny is.

Chapter 4

I came to when someone slapped me hard in the face.

"Wake up, little girl!"

I managed to drag my eyes halfway open to see a man with curly dark hair leaning over me. He was dressed in black army style BDUs, but the logo on his his clothes was nothing I'd ever seen before. Slurring, I said, "What do you want? Who are you?"

"Before I answer that, where were you? What happened?"

I figured there could be no harm in answering his questions. This day couldn't possibly be any worse. "I was walking home from a party when this holographic metallic robot thing kidnapped me."

"And…" he trailed off.

"And they said that I'm, 'The future of their race' or some bullshit like that. I dunno." I slowly sat up and wrapped my hands around my stomach. Already, something didn't feel right. I didn't want to believe that what that crazy little doctor thing could even possibly be true, that I could be pregnant by that huge evil looking thing, but my body was telling me otherwise. I hoped it was only from being roughed up.

The man shook his head. "That's not good."

"No kidding! Now that I answered your questions, it's your turn. Who are you?"

My words fell on deaf ears. "There's no time for that. We gotta go!"

He grabbed my hand and literally pulled me to my feet. "Hey! What the hell!" I dug my heels as hard as I could into the ground, but my feet couldn't find any purchase.

The man turned back to me, his iron grip still firmly fixed on my hand. "Really, this will be so much easier if you don't fight. I don't want to have to take drastic measures, but I will if forced."

I pulled back with all my might, grabbed his hand and bit down.

"Ow! Jesus, Mary on Mt. Everest! What the hell was that for?" He screeched while examining the damage my teeth had done.

My nostrils flared. "I am not going anywhere with you until you tell me who the hell you are. And what are you talking about?"

He sighed. "Fine. If you're going to be a little pain in my ass, asking 5,000 questions, I'll tell you. My name is Seymour Simmons, and from a radical, top-secret government group called Sector Seven."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Uh, huh. And what does this top-secret government agency want with me?"

"Giant alien robots? Hello? I thought we just had this conversation," he shot back.

"And I repeat, what do you need with me, because I'm not moving one more inch until I know!" I sank down to the ground and huffed.

Simmons rolled his eyes. "All right. You wanna play tough, little girl, fine. I'll bring you home, but I guarantee you'll be begging me to take you in when whatever experiment the Decepticons did to you starts growing."

I felt his arms go around me, and before I knew it, Simmons was lifting me off the ground. "Hey! Put me down, you jerk!"

We walked, well, he walked, I squirmed for another quarter of a mile until we came to Simmons' car, hidden in the underbrush of the forest. He opened the door and literally threw me in the back seat. "Now, don't move. I'm taking you home. I suggest you get some sleep, and then we're going to have to discuss a plausible story for you to tell your mother."

As we pulled away through the trees, I started to wonder how this random stranger knew so much about me.

Though Seymour Simmons of Sector Seven, the government agency that wasn't supposed to exist, scared the crap out of me, he was true to his word. We pulled around the block and I could see the entrance to the trailer park I called home looming in sight. I sighed.

"What day is it?" I scratched my head when I realized I didn't even know.

"It's Saturday."

Well, that was good. I was only gone about 18 hours, then. Not long enough for mom to notice. If I was lucky, she'd have been at work all that time, and wouldn't be the wiser. As we drove closer, I realized I wasn't that lucky. Figures.

"So, what is this big story I'm supposed to come up with?"

Simmons was quiet. "You went to the party and a few people ended up in the next town over afterwards. Everyone was too drunk to drive, so you crashed there. It's a farm with no real form of communication, and cell service sucked."

I ran the scenario over in my head. It seemed plausible enough. "All right," I said as we pulled up to my trailer. I reached for the door handle and had one foot out the door when a hand on my arm stopped me.

"When that little problem of yours starts to show itself, I'll find you." I opened my mouth to deny it, but Simmons cut me off. "Believe me, you're going to want my help when the time comes."

He motioned for me to go and I stepped out. Taking a deep breath, I walked up the steps and opened the door. 'Here comes the onslaught,' I thought.

From inside, my mother's deep voice bellowed. "DESTINY FORTUNA RAVENCROFT, WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!"

Two months had passed since that strange day in the warehouse. I'd been able to keep my pregnancy a secret from my mother, and by this point, I was sure I was pregnant. I missed my period twice, and for the past week, I hadn't been able to keep anything but saltine crackers and water down. I was exhausted, cranky, aggressive and more angry than usual. For me, that was saying something.

No one at school knew a damned thing about what happened that night. I never even bothered to tell Jess, because I knew she wouldn't believe me. I was there, and sometimes even I didn't believe me.

But, as I leaned over the toilet, praying to the porcelain god, I had to rethink my original thought. Whatever that crazy doctor had said might just be true. Was I pregnant? Jesus Christ, can my life get any worse?

I turned around as the door opened. It was my mother. "Destiny, I thought I heard you throwing up. This is the third or fourth time I've heard you doing this in the mornings. Are you okay?"

I nodded and shoved my toothbrush in my mouth. "Yeah, I'm fine. It must have been something I ate."

My mom's eyes narrowed. "You haven't eaten much of anything in the last three days, so I don't understand how can possibly be sick."

I shrugged, rinsed and spit. "I eat at school, mom."

She cocked her head to the side. "When was your last period?"

I paled. "Uh, last, I mean, I think, two weeks ago."

See, the thing everyone needs to understand about my mother is that she's schizophrenic. One moment she's fine, but if something triggers her, just get ready to duck. And she always told me that the only thing that would really piss her off would be if I got pregnant before I could care for a child. Now, unfortunately, she was putting two and two together.

"YOU LYING LITTLE SLUT! You're pregnant, aren't you?" She started toward me. "That's why you haven't had your period, that's why you've been sick in the mornings, and that's why I'm kicking you out of this house! Get out! Right now!" She was screaming at the top of her lungs, advancing on me the entire time.

I squeezed past her in the doorway and ran to my room. I grabbed my school backpack and a huge army duffel bag I bought at a surplus store and began shoving things in to it.

"That's right, you little whore. Grab all you can. You'd better take it all, because you're never coming back!"

I kept shoving clothes and a few books in there. I ran over to my sock drawer and grabbed the sock I kept all my cash hidden in. I had $700 in there, but I didn't want my mother to know about it. I balled it up in my hands and started to stick it in my pocket.

My mother was quicker that I thought. "Oh, what's this? Money! You've been holding out on me, haven't you, you bitch! You're not leaving with this!" She snatched the cash out of my hands, picked up my half packed bags from the floor and shoved me and them out the door.

The last thing I heard before she slammed the door shut was, "If you come back here, you tramp, I'm calling the police!"

I hefted my bags and started walking. I was out of this pathetic cow town. I had no idea how, since I was homeless, uneducated, penniless, and pregnant with an alien species' test child, but hey, I could find a way, right? I remembered two months ago when that strange Seymour guy told me he'd find me when the time was right. Well, dude. The time is right, and it's now. Where are you?

I set my bags down about a mile from my house and sat down in the grass. What was I going to do? I can't honestly expect to support myself, and then there was the danger looming over me. I saw a diner in the distance, and I thought maybe they would let me do some grunt work for them in exchange for some off the books cash. It looked seedy enough. It was worth a shot.

Six hours and the most disgusting pile of dishes later, I had my money. It was only $70, but it was enough to get me going. At least it was summer. I could sleep outside, and the owner of the place told me I could come back if I wanted to for a week and make enough money to get out of whatever predicament I was in. I liked the guy. He didn't ask, and I didn't tell.

Three days after I met Jimmy, the diner's owner, a man in a black suit, with salt and pepper dark hair came waltzing in the diner. He looked out of place there, with his properly groomed clothing and the fact that he'd showered more than once in the last two weeks. He walked in the back, flashed his badge and said,

"My name is Agent Seymour Simmons, and I'm looking for Destiny Ravencroft."

Well, shit.