Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. I merely borrow the characters to weave my own tales.

She called herself Alleycat Scooter because that was the only name she knew of. Sometimes she thought she remembered hearing a woman call "Ali! Ali, don't forget to feed the cat before you go out!" and someone else saying, "C'mon, Scooter, let's get you fed."

Alleycat thought she remembered a lot of things. Jumbled images and voices, some of giant robots, others of humans. She thought she saw blood and some strange glowing liquid—Energon—being spilled, and the bodies of both the humans and the giant robots. Her dreams were filled with things she thought she remembered, names, places, dates, voices, faces . . . She saw horrible things in her dreams, but none made her more afraid then the maybe-memory of sharp needles, faceless people, and sharp metal tools and the faint echoes of pain and terror that followed her into the waking world.

She didn't know who she was. She lived on the streets, hardly ever staying in one place for more than two days. She knew that she had really dark brown skin, black hair, and dark blue eyes, but she didn't know how old she was, where she came from, or her real name—if she even had a name.

Alleycat sighed and paused in her scrounge for something to eat. Finding some decent food and hastily consuming it, she wandered through the alleys, searching for a place to sleep for the night. Her only company was the alley cats, and the voice that sometimes talked in her head.

She briefly wondered where she came from, who she was, but those thoughts were swiftly overtaken by the maybe-memories. Shivering, she slipped behind a dumpster and curled up into a ball.