Halve Of A Whole

Abby Ebon

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Disclaimer: I couldn't own it all even if I tried to claim it all.

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FatesShadow83

~ Harry is a metamorph or an animagus ~

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In For A Wag

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ACWO Jorge Figueroa - Fig to his friends - knows there are some things he'll never understand, but with the 'Bots, it's simple, it works. They are soldiers, he's a soldier, and there aren't good guys or bad guys in life: in life there is just living and dying and the dead. He'd be dead if not for the 'Bots, he'd be dead too many times to count without Wild Bill Lennox or Bobby Epps watching his back – so, when Lennox shoved his gun into the face of that S-7 agent, and ordered him to take them to the kid's 'Bot, Will's men had done just as he had. It'd worked because they hadn't had anything to lose: they'd had everything. Life and death, it counted for something – loyalty, the threat of his mama's cooking, a comrade in arms in life and in death.

Life was good only so long as you were living it.

Far as Fig could figure, the 'Cons wanted nothing more then to see the 'Bots beaten… and the rest of the world's worth of people – well – they'd seem like ants, yeah? Short lived, small, and fragile in comparison to hulking giant robots. It was for damned sure none of them would like the results. He sure doesn't like to think about it – and does not really want to know. It's enough that they killed Patrick Donnelly, stabbed him in the back and dragged him down: buried him still screaming and bleeding in the sand.

'Bots aren't 'Cons, and 'Cons aren't 'Bots: he thinks he gets it –that difference despite the similarities of them being from the same planet, created from the same AllSpark. He doesn't understand, doesn't really get it – why? – why that war between 'Bots and 'Cons. That's the mystery that Fig never thinks he'll see solved, ever get more then whispers and pieces of. It's too big a mystery, and he's a simple soldier with simple needs.

So he lets it lay: and doesn't worry about why.

He's human, is Fig, so curiosity is in him, and that wars with soldier's caution and obedience to orders without much question. It gets to him, that there's this boy on the base. He looks about the same age as Fig's own kid brother, who his mama calls her baby, and who Fig has always watched out for and protected.

It isn't right, is what it is, that a boy that age, with no military experience, no prior experience with the 'Bots or 'Cons walks onto the base and isn't being looked out for. So Fig takes it up in his own hands and goes looking. He doesn't find a boy – he finds a dog, slinking around the shadows and shy.

Fig whistles, and the dog with its wide green eyes freezes – he takes a step forward and then, just like that - the dog is gone, scampering off. Fig knows better then to scamper off after the dog, instead he makes steaks. They aren't alligator, but they'll do fine. He checks back on the plate at the end of his shift, finding its contents gone; he's quite content to continue feeding the stray.

Of course, the NEST base being what it is, he can't keep what he's doing a secret – it seems sometimes that keeping the biggest secret in the world (aliens on Earth, here to stay) throws any other's worth to dirt. Fig gets heckled like hell for it. Half the boys think he's bullshitting them, and the other half voice (mostly joking) worries about the dog dying from his cooking.

"You're serious about this?" Bobby Epps's voice is painfully amused, and Fig knows he's but a finger away from laughing. He's also hovering a bit in the kitchen, just getting in the way. Fig pays him little attention as he cooks up something real special, chicken and biscuits (the bread kind, not the English cookie kind) – with only pepper for spice. It's for sure the dog's probably never had something like it.

"Look, man, a dog's got to eat." Fig explains, while Bobby rolls his eyes.

"Did it look hungry?" Bobby prods, but Fig shrugs. He knows a dog like that it's probably got someone, and he feels a bit guilty about luring it in with cooked dinners and company. But what none of the boys of NEST argued with was the possibility of having a dog around; it got damned lonely seeing people everyday in and out, the same company and companions. If he could get the dog – they would keep it: usually the dogs came from home, already trained up into proper soldiers, but NEST being a secret kept them off the lists.

"Ate the steaks, so must be." Fig reasoned, and with that bit of logic, Bobby didn't argue.

"What'd he look like?" Bobby asks, more then half curious, a look crosses Fig's face – and it's like remembering his mama's cooking, or when Bill talks about his wife and baby girl. Bobby's never asked if Fig's got pets at home, or has always wanted one.

"Big fellow, black all over, and has these green eyes." Fig teases, aware of Epps own good looks. Bobby claps Fig on the shoulder with a laugh, on his way out.

"Sounds like your more then half in love with him already, so don't let him get away and break your heart, Fig. I'm sure the boys will love him too." Fig watches Bobby go, thoughtfully, he was sure now the rest of NEST wouldn't say no to the stray.

That night, he stayed with the chicken and biscuits, but fell into a doze. He woke to the sounds of the dog eating up the dinner Fig had set out. If not for that, the chomping sounds and the swallowing, soft sounds as they were, Fig wouldn't have woken up at all. With a closer look, Fig saw how well the dog looked his black fur smooth and clean his teeth white with black gums, by his paws he was still growing.

An ear flicked, and green eyes flinched forward, looking surprised to see Fig awake and staring.

"Hi there fella, you're getting bold." Fig keeps his voice soft, almost a whisper. He doesn't reach out a hand, or make any sudden movements; canine and solider watch each other, calm. They take the measure of each other in those moments. The black dog, he finishes the plate, licking it clean, and nods his head as if to say thanks and goes off on his way.

"You're welcome." There is a pause of darkness in the shadows as Fig takes the plate away.

The next day is one of the bad ones, and he doesn't get free of it till midnight comes and goes. It's with a heavy dose of heartache and guilt that he brings cold fried chicken. Fig doesn't wait up for the dog to show, isn't sure that the dog hasn't given up on him. Fig might have, if he was made to wait so long for so little, Fig fears he's lost his chance with the dog. A friendship between soldiers is built on trust, and today Fig's failed the dog, and what's worse feels he's failed his fallen comrades too. It'll heal, that hurt, but he's sick with it at his heart and eating all the softness in him.

He wakes toward noon, with NEST stirred up like a hive.

"What's going on?" Fig asks groggily, as Dunham goes by in a rush.

"The boy's gone missing." There is only one boy on base, boy because though he's close to the age of the NEST's folk, he hasn't been in combat with them yet. Fig hopes that isn't about to change yet, not when he hasn't any training with them and who-knows-what kind of skills.

Fig goes with the rest, because this is important, there are questions to account for – how'd the boy get off the base (is he off-base?) without NEST knowing is a big one. Fig shouldn't be thinking about the dog, about the chicken, but as the storage unit looms up and one look in can't hurt.

The plate is bare save for bones, and Fig isn't alone.

Fig doesn't find a dog, he finds the boy. He hadn't really noticed before, that black hair.

"Hey there..." Fig crouches next to him, waking him with a touch to the shoulder. He bolts up like lightning, wide green eyes glaring. Fig can put the two together, the boy is the dog, and the dog the boy, how – well that's like the question of 'Cons and Bots – he doesn't really need to satisfy his curiosity, only needs to know it works.

"Come on, your friends are all out looking for you, we've made quite the fuss." It's a right mess that Fig has to sort out, all tangled up in his head – no wonder the boy's never showed up in the mess-hall, Fig's been feeding him all along. Fig helps haul the boy up onto his feet.

"I'm Harry – what's your name?" Those green eyes are grateful, no doubt, that Fig doesn't ask why he spends the nights roaming about like a dog, hiding, or what he was doing waiting up for Fig's food (it isn't, he knows, as good as his mamas).

"Fig." There's a point where no one needs to know last names, this is a bit awkward around, and might get worse before it gets better.

"I've found him." Fig tells the rest of NEST by radio comm, who call off the search and Harry gets sent to speak with the likes of Optimus Prime and Wild Bill. Fig knows better then to wish him luck.

He's not really surprised (but he is glad and grateful) that the black dog comes around the mess-hall and heads straight for Fig. It's his secret to keep, but the company isn't bad, and as a dog or a boy, Harry has that with them.

(There really are dogs in the American military: they aren't merely mascots, or for morale, they are valued team members as when SEAL Team 6 killed Osama bin Laden they had with them Cairo, a tracker. The most common breeds being Belgian Malinois, Dutch shepherd, German shepherd and Labrador retrievers. I think Harry looks a little like a Dutch shepherd, and the idea of his "training" and going on missions with NEST – without them knowing just who he is save for Fig - it just makes me grin. )