Listen, I'm reeaaaallly sorry about the wait, I haven't had access PROPERLY to a wifi connection in months, and I know that I am being a bitch for uploading this and a new story when I have other outstanding stories but please, give a fangirl a break, I keep coming back to my first love, Transformers!

Please forgive me, suimasen, for the wait, but here is another chapter!

Yours in Fandom

~Dethia

Chapter 1

Melancholy. Enter: Cybertronians.

'They were so cocky when they came back.' The woman with sea-green eyes thought happily as she stood in a room cluttered with random tools and scraps of metal. She was staring out the window but wasn't really seeing anything, lost in her thoughts and memories…

Laughter as red eyes looked upon a small organic child with uncharacteristic softness…

Hard eyes threatening the child as she, older by a few years now, ran back to the place where the Giant of Smooth Silver and Red Eyes was…

Tears falling on rapidly cooling metal as a dying light came from the torn up chest of the Giant…

A small hand reaching towards the dying light…

The sound of tires on gravel roughly jolted the woman from her memories. A large smile over came her face as she spotted the rickety old red truck coming down the, albeit long, lane to her house.

"Mr. Gards!" She cried out gaily. "What brings you here?"

"Isis, my dear girl, I need your help on this laptop thing-a-mah-gig." Jonathen Gards stepped out of the truck grumbled good-naturedly. The old man was about 60 years but it was obvious he was once attractive from his broad shoulders, the brunette at the roots of his graying and thinning hair, and the gleam that still lingered in his blue eyes.

Isis' laughter rung in the air as she walked out of her workroom and into the gleaming sunlight. She gave the old man a hug and grinned at hi. "What did you do to that poor thing now, Mr. Gards?"

He gave a annoyed huff as he gave the offending "thing-a-mah-gig" to Isis while being led back into her workroom. "I don't know. I was putting up one of those blasted posts on the Facebook thing so I could talk to my grandchildren and the thing went blue while making this god-awful keening noise before just shutting down." The old man gave a annoyed harrumph as he sat in a spare chair. " You're Miss Tinker, fixing all the gadgets and doodads around our little town of Melancholy, but for the life of me I can't figure out why in the world you would set up shop in the middle of a abandoned airfield!"

Isis gave the old man a amused glance as she popped open the laptop to see it's inner workings with practiced ease. It was unusual, she admitted silently, but when it came to dealing with those three, she need all the space and isolation she could get.

Mr. Gards continued his rant aware the young woman fixing his computer was only half listening. "The strangest thing is that you didn't even take the Government's offer up when they offered to clean the place up! 'Nooooooo,' she says, 'I like the remains of all those planes there. I can tinker to my hearts content!' Phooey! It's hell to drive through, though that sad excuse of a driveway helps." He admitted sullenly only slightly alleviated by the girl's laughter.

In truth, the old man was worried for the girl. About 25 years of age, Isis Michealis lived a good mile or so from town, not counting the too-long drive to get to her workshop. Her house was even farther beyond! She lived alone and didn't spend much time in town. Just enough to be considered a member of the community.

With her mocha colored skin and almond shaped eyes told all that she was of foreign descent. About 5' 6", she towered over most of the other women in town and was almost eye to eye to most men. When the pleasant girl was angry-which was rarer than Haley's Comet most said-her voice kinda had a slight lilt behind her words.

The strange thing that had made most people wary of her had been her elusive past. The most people knew now was that she hadn't been wanted by her parents and had been taken in by a kind woman who died a long time ago.

But the girl was pleasant and had good manners, interacted well with the children. Isis had quick hands and a mind that matched, which put off many of the local studs. Soon she was fixing things all over town, and wouldn't have taken anything for it if it hadn't been for the town members' insistence. Other than her obvious like of solitude the town had no complaints about her.

"Mr. Gards, I've fixed your laptop." Isis' voice broke into his deliberations, and the old man flushed embarrassedly when he realized he'd been caught staring.

"What was wrong with the blasted thing?" Mr. Gards' voice was rough with embarrassment.

Isis' laughter was quiet. "Ohhhh, a bunch of technical mumbo-jumbo that would have you cursing it and never touching it again." Her grin however was not in anyway subdued. "Let's just say I relocked the doohickey with the thingamabob and rewired the thingy so it clicked right."

Jonathen Gards laughed. "Still haven't got a clue, kiddo." He grinned as he collected his things only to stop in the doorway, oblivious to Isis' impatient fidgeting and hurried glances at the window. The old man had been so deep in thought that he had been oblivious to the F-22 engines that seemed to be systematically circling her house. "Ah, before I forget, the Missus wants you for dinner Thursday." His grin had grown. "Be prepared. It's another attempt at match-making."

Isis groaned in horror. Samantha Gards had been trying to set her up with some boys around town ever since Isis had fixed the TV in time for her stories. "Thanks for the warning." She called out to Mr. Gards as he climbed into his decrepit truck. "Drive safely!"

In response she got a hand airily waved back at her from the driver's side window. She sighed, then scowled as a F-22 engine rumbled overhead. Quickly she gathered a the necessary tools, and rushed to the old jeep she kept for on property travel. Throwing what she had in the back she started up and drove deeper into the airfield she owned. The only time the Mechs she knew were that persistent was if one of them was hurt and they couldn't take their wounds to Scalpel or Knockout, the Decepticon Medics.

About half a mile out from her home was a airstrip where 3 F-22 Fighter Jets sat, innocent as can be, if not for the energon dripping from the one in the middle and the rips, tears, and dents decorating the exterior like the Cybertronian tattoo's already there.

And all Isis did was snort. "Screamer," she told the middle F-22 blandly, "If all you want me to do is cosmetics, then you should've called. Could've had a whole wash set up." The sounds of clicking and hydraulics filled the air as each F-22 transformed into 15 ft. tall alien robots.

Starscream was in the middle, sporting the armor the color of a light grey with dark purple Cybertronian markings over his chassis and wings, visible despite the deep puncturing scars that covered his bi-pedal form.

Thundercracker stood to Starscream's right, a light grey like his Trine leader's but his markings were a more subtle indigo. One could easily tell Thundercracker was the voice of reason due to the carefully controlled expression on his facial plates, unlike his brothers' who both bore smirks. Isis could tell she was happy to see her because of the gleam in his ruby optics.

Skywarp was dark a dark grey with practically neon purple markings, and bore a very conspiratorial smirk on his faceplates. Now, with Skywarp, few know where they stand. Starscream and Thundercracker were obviously viewed as brothers to him, and Isis was considered his sister, a combination of her circumstances and her personality, which was just as varied as his. Most considered him insane, but as his Brother's and Sister knew, it was simply the strain of War that caused his constantly changing moods.

"Awwwwwww I told ja Screamer!" Skywarp cackled. "Told ja she wouldn't just have it handy!"

"Silence, Skywarp!" Starscream, reminiscent of his name, screeched out at his Trine mate. "I didn't want one of those infernal washes. I just want these patched up!"

Isis watched this for a few moments before turning to Thundercracker with an classic 'uppie' motion. Thundercracker chuckled slightly as he laid a clawed servo on the ground next to her, just n time for Screamer and Skywarp to roll past in a fight, Screamer screeching and Skywarp cackling.

"One of those organics was here when we arrived, but he didn't respond to our circling." Thundercracker duly informed his sister. "What was going on?"

Isis laughed at his terribly hidden suspicious and protective tones. "No need to worry, TC. It was an older one already with a mate not trying to, as you put it, 'court me with sickeningly inferior methods'."

Thundercracker looked pleased and was about to respond when suddenly Skywarp snatched Isis up and began to beg for attention. "Iiiiiiiiiiicccccceee, Screamer hurt me!" He whimpered out pathetically and nuzzled her with his helm to show off the new dents, while sending smug feelings through the Trine bond he had with Thundercracker and Starscream, making both Mechs scowl heavily.

Isis went immediately into 'Big Sister' mode. "Aw, are you okay 'Warp?" She cooed at the youngest member of the Trine. When he shook his head in a negative, Isis continued, "Did you hit him back?"

At this Skywarp avidly shook his head in the affirmative, making Thundercracker grin slightly and Screamer just look confused.

WHACK! Skywarp blinked confusedly when a screwdriver met with the side of his helm. "Then why are you whining to me?! Be a mech, fraggit!" She scowled at him before pointedly walking off his servo and into Starsceam's, where she immediately began to climb all over and under his armor to survey the damage.

"What did you do now?"

Starscream scowled at the organic climbing all over his armor. "Why do you assume it was MY fault I am damaged?"

Isis didn't bat an eye as she tugged at a energon line and made the mech flinch. "Because one: You are a not a youngling that can't hold his own in a fight and two: You tend to do foolish things." Starscream was going to comment but gave out a un-mechly squeak as she viciously tugged a bunch of wires. "No lying to the organic who's climbing in your armor."

Skywarp cackled at the pout that adorned Screamer's faceplates. "You heard 'er Screamer!"

Thundercracker dealt the younger seeker a blow to the helm, giving him a new dent for his ever growing collection. "Please ignore him. He just wants to be coddled."

And soon ensued a verbal sparring match, Warp's reply's heated while TC's were calm.

Isis popped out of Screamer's leg platting long enough to get some rubber gloves, a welding mask, and her welder, before diving right back in to weld together some energon lines. "You were saying?" Her voice was slightly muffled.

Starscream scowled again, but grudgingly told his sister. "Sadly, I was reporting the status of our troops and the state of our hatchlings, and our Lord Megatron," Starscream practically spat out the name of the Leader of the Decepticon forces. "Was unpleased with my news. After my beating he ordered Scalpel not to repair me."

"And lo and behold, you find yourself on my property." Starscream turned surprised optics to his sister, who was busy putting up her tools, as his nanites were taking care of the punctures in his armor with most of his internal injuries tended to. "All done." She smiled at the battered Seeker. "How long until you all are expected back at the Nemesis?"

Thundercracker looked up from where he had Skywarp pinned beneath his pede and a servo on each wing. "Megatron will be expecting Starscream to curl up somewhere and lick his wounds. It won't be for a while. A few solar cycles maybe?"

Isis' smile was radiant, and it conveyed just how lonely she really was. "Good." She pointed to a shack to the small building sitting innocently at the tip of the airstrip. "You three grab energon, and when I get back, maybe I'll have the necessary things for a good wash."

Skywarp threw off TC with a excited "Hurray!" before warping over to the building and pulling off the roof and setting it down casually, as if he had done it before, which he had.

Thundercracker sighed, before casually walking over to where Skywarp was happily pulling out Mid grade and High grade energon.

Starscream looked carefully at his sister, before scooping her up and allowing the bond he had with her to open and flood it with affection. His spark hummed happily as she returned the gesture, while also sending some to Thundercracker and Skywarp, who stiffened in the unexpected volley of love, but returned it none the less.

~Stop your worrying.~ She told them solemnly through their bond. It was strange to them and made their armor bristle as they paused and looked at her as she sat solemnly in Screamer's servo. Her spark-speak voice was much more aged and mature than that of her physical voice. It echoed with wisdom well beyond theirs. Now they understood why she mostly refused bond-speaking. ~I am stronger than I appear. I will not fall because I am lonely.~ She gave them swift hugs through their bond before dropping out of Starscream's servo and walked to her jeep, smiling and waving at them over her shoulder.

"Don't destroy anything you can't fix, or I swear that I'll paint you pink and shove a rusty bar coated in disgusting organic wastes up your tailpipes!" She cheerily called out to the three as she drove away.

Skywarp let his usual demented smile cover his facial plates as he replied. "HelLOOOOOOO, we're DECEPTICONS! Of course things are gonna break!"

They could just make out the middle finger sticking out at them as she drove away, making Thundercracker chuckle. "Do you really think she'd do it?" He asked his brothers and they all paused thinking about the other threats she made good on, before exchanging nods.

"Yup." Skywarp grinned. "So I vote Screamer breaks something she won't notice till we're gone."

Starscream glared at his brother while he sipped his Energon. "Why me? Why not Thundercracker?"

Thundercracker butt in before Skywarp could respond. "Because, unlike you two nitwits, I have at least half a processor."

And ensued the bickering and play fighting between the Trine mates.

In the small rural town of Melancholy, on Main St:

A entire line of army issue cars were going down main street, making the walking bystanders stop and gossip.

At front was a Peterbilt that was red with blue flame decal(looking regal despite being a piece of machinery), followed by a black GMC Topkick(appeared threatening, yet amused), A rescue Hummer(seemed grumpy and irritated), a Blue Chevrolet Volt(seemed amused but dignified), a silver Corvette Stingray, and a Gold Corvette Z51(Both of which appeared bored, however that worked). After them were the usual unmarked government vehicles.

=Why are we here again?= The Stingray known as Sideswipe whined for the fiftieth time, making the Hummer seem to raise and fall on his shocks, in the vehicular version of a sigh.

=Sideswipe, ask that ONE MORE TIME and you will find yourself in my medbay for a early maintenance check!=

The silver Corvette seemed to shrink a little while slowing down enough for the gold one to pass it. The gold Corvette seemed to be shaking a little in a silent laugher. =Way to go Sides,= Sunstreaker spoke over the public frequency, so all could hear him. =You got the Hatchet mad, and we haven't even done anything yet!=

The Topkick's frame was shaking now, and the African American male in his interior was grinning with his CO, a white male with brown hair. They could here everything that went on in the public Comm. Frequency through the Radio, courtesy of Ironhide, the Topkick.

Ironhide chuckled over the Comm. As his old friend growled in anger. =We are here to deal with a Autobot landing and to investigate the Decepticon frequencies that have been spotted by the earth government.= He answered the Twin's Elder before they could irritate the medic further. The last thing they needed was to have Ratchet chasing them through this small town.

Immediately, the twins perked up. =So we get to slag some Deceptiscum?= That was Sunstreaker, forever ready to kick some aft.

=Who's signals have you been picking up?= Sideswipe asked excitedly, speeding up till he was practically on top of Jolt, the blue Volt, who was quite disgruntled to have the mech practically rear-ending him.

=We are, as of yet, unsure.= It was Jolt who answered them this time, and Sideswipe got the message and backed off a little.

Lennox grinned from his spot in Ironhide and it took one look from Epps before the two were having a very intense, yet silent, round of rock, paper, scissors. All was quiet for a moment before Ironhide commented on it. "What in the frag are you doing?"

The two men froze before grinning self-consciously at the radio. =What are they doing?= Was Ratchet's curious question over Comm.

=They were waving their arms at each other and making violent gestures.=

Ratchet was going to comment but, Lennox, the loser of the game, interrupted him. "Hey Ratch? We've got a question for ya." Epps gestured to him violently but Lennox just smirked back at his Master Sergeant.

Ratchet had a bad feeling about it but decided to go for broke anyway. =…Yes, Major?=

"Are we there yet?" Was the simple question, and laughter echoed through the Comm. Especially as Ratchet seemed to temporarily loose control and swerved into the opposite lane, almost crashing into Jolt in the process.

A sudden roar of what seemed to be expletives in Cybertronian (due to the angry whirls, clicks, buzzes, and hums) coming from Ratchet over Comm. had the smart 'Bots (Optimus, Jolt, and Ironhide) shutting up and the stupid bots (Sunstreaker and Sideswipe) laughing even harder.

Ironhide lurched forward suddenly before taking off at speeds definitely not approved by the human government bypassing Optimus altogether in a effort to get away from a very angry medic who was trying to get his servo's on both his temporary charges and himself as he thought 'We' had meant all of them.

Once Ratchet and Ironhide were far enough away, laughter again resumed from the convoy, which had sped up, via Prime's order in a effort to keep them in sight, even as he chuckled.

I think it's okay. Your thoughts? PWEAAAAAAAASE?!