Chapter 1: Caecus

(Latin: blind, unseeing)

AN: I don't own Transformers, and that disclaimer applies to this entire story.

I smiled at the tall boy; he pushed his glasses up, a small smile on his lips.

"Liam, you finished that physics worksheet already, right?"

He nodded once, eyes fixed on my face.

Liam was pretty much gorgeous, and he was the sexiest thing I'd ever seen. Cropped black hair, deep, dark eyes and square black glasses perched on a straight nose, over pale skin.

"Did you complete the assignment as well?"

I nodded quickly, and dug around in my bag for a pen. "Yeah, I just had problems with number six, on the tension in the cable."

He nodded once, eyes still focussed on mine. "That one was at a more advanced level; I estimate that at least half of the class would have difficulties deciphering the correct equation. What answer did you come up with?"

"Nine point three Newtons."

"You are not in the percentage of the class to have difficulties with the question."

I grinned widely at him. He was such a nice guy – super formal and not so great with social customs, but a true friend once you got to know him well enough. I'd known him since he moved here, which was getting on seven years ago.

When I met him, he was really shy, and quiet, which worked for me, because I was too. We had been assigned together for a history project, and discovered that we were quite similar. I accidentally trashed his geometry set, and in buying a new one for him, we became best friends.

Well, he states that I merely annoyed him into speaking. Which people might believe, but I knew better.

Watching him carefully, I smirked when I noticed his attention lingering just behind my right shoulder. About a year ago, I had realized that I really, really liked him. But his attentions were focused on Rebecca Williams – a super nice, athletic, smart girl. Who was probably talking with her friends, behind my right shoulder.

"Pig alert?" I purred at him, ignoring the clench in my own stomach. It hurt to think of his crush.

"She is hardly a pig, Alexandra."

I shrugged. "It's code; from that movie about the pig called Babe. You think she's gorgeous, hence, a babe. So I call her pig." Not to mention I wanted to hate her guts because Liam likes her, but couldn't, because she's the nicest person I've ever met.

"It is not very flattering, none the less."

Another shrug. "Eh. What she doesn't know won't hurt her."

He gave me a level look and then returned to Becky-watching. His favorite past-time, apart from studying.

In some ways, he was still such a shy little boy, and in others a mature, responsible young man. I liked both sides to him. Which is why I needed to make sure he was happy – and if that included chaining him and Becky together, or locking them in a closet, or rigging the partner system in our shared history class, well, so be it.

It hurt though, no doubt about that.

I smacked Liam in the shoulder. "Later!"

Jogging off to my car, I sat in the front seat and clenched the steering wheel for a few moments, knuckles white, before reversing and pulling out. My scant notes on multiculturalism were grouped together in my bag, ready for me to pull them out and create a kick-ass essay that would blow my history teacher away.

Ha. That was Liam's forte, not mine. I wasn't good in school. I wasn't athletic. I wasn't even good at talking to people. Eh. Eventually, there'd be something that I was good at.

I pulled into our driveway, and parked. Grabbing my bag from the back and snatching my phone from the front, I trotted to the house and ducked inside.

"I'm home!" I hollered, and heard Mom welcome me in the kitchen. Our house smelled good, like chicken and fresh-baked bread.

Ducking into the kitchen, I snagged a little piece of warm bread. Mom bopped me on the head with a wooden spoon.

"Make sure to save room for supper."

I nodded, ecstatic. Mom was great at cooking.

Jace came by my, smacking my head "accidentally" with his laptop when he moved behind me to snag a massive hunk of bread.

I elbowed him in the stomach, hard. He merely smacked my head with the laptop again.

Mom bopped him on the head with the spoon as well.

Jace was my older brother by six years. He was from Mom's first marriage, so he was really my half brother. At first, we hated each other, but now, he was one of my best friends.

I smirked, eating the rest of my bread in the kitchen, lounging against the wall, watching my family (other than Dad) move and eat and make sarcastic comments.

Jace started tapping at something on his laptop again, chewing unseeingly on his bread. I flicked a pen from my bag at his head, and looked innocent when he glared and chucked it back.

Settling down to be productive, I used the pen Jace had so thoughtfully thrown back to me, and started scrawling down ideas to use for the three body paragraphs.

After a while of working on my essay, Dad came in the front door, and hung up his jacket. I looked up, and smiled a litte, putting my essay away. Mom asked me to set the table, and I did a little obligatory grumbling before snapping to, and setting it as quickly as I could. I also placed a few hot-pads for the meat and vegetables. Wasn't I just the greatest daughter ever?

After we ate, Jace had to clean up, and put the dishes in the washer. Mom called it his obligatory rent. He was in university, and the parents had said he could stay at home still as long as he did some chores and helped clean up.

Pretty simple, and free rent. I knew that he didn't really mind. He was going to make some girl really happy someday – could (sometimes) cook, clean and even do laundry. My big brother was a catch and a half – if he'd ever get off his laptop and get a real job, instead of the computer-geek stuff he did on there all the time.

I waved goodbye to my family, smirking at the still busy cleaning Jace. He smirked at me, and waggled his eyebrows.

"Tomorrow's your turn, and she's making stew."

I groaned on my way out, checking to make sure my laptop was in my bag. Mom was the most notorious woman at making stew ever. She'd manage to use nearly every pot in the house, almost all the cutting boards and knives, as well as make a mess of the counters.

It was delicious when she was done though.

Jumping into my old car, I started it up, and putted down to the little café on the corner of main street, the sun setting slightly in front of me.

Inside the little green café, tinted by the sun, I ordered a hot chocolate, and made a bee-line for the farthest booth, slipping into the seat.

After an hour or two, the sun was completely set, and the moon was almost visible from my angle.

I hummed slightly, fingers curling around the yellow mug. The other hand tapped on my laptop's keyboard, inputting my thoughts for the essay on multiculturalism that my history teacher wanted. This little café, hidden in plain sight on the corner of our town, was perfect for studying, writing and people-watching. Maybe not so much people watching now that it was late, but during the day it was great.

I took a deep draught of the now-cold hot chocolate, and returned to the fantastic world of history. Note sarcasm. With relish, I tapped in the few last sentences, pressing down the keys with aplomb. I hit save, and sighed heavily, slumping back in my booth and hitting 'save' repeatedly.

Last essay of this semester, now completed. Pure bliss shot through me as I reread the prose-heavy document on my blue Acer.

I had had such good luck today – my laptop, the prissy little thing it was, had behaved perfectly, and not conked out on me in the middle, nor had I had any problems with thinking of the words for the essay.

Clicking my laptop shut, I stuffed it into my messenger bag, and stood to leave.

The wall exploded. I froze, in startled horror. It seemed like metal shot through the wall, and pieces of mortar and brick crumbled down, breaking through the glass counter. I fell to the ground on my butt, heart racing.

Rylie, the lady who always worked the Wednesday shift, screamed loudly. My eyes flashed to her, and I screamed when a piece of metal sliced through her stomach, spilling out blood through her previously-white, crisp uniform shirt. The center was stained red, and her eyes were empty, dead and gone.

She crumpled, cut like an abandoned puppet's strings. The woman vanished behind the counter.

A massive wave of shiny, glittering silver metal crashed through the remnants of the wall, landing on the table where the old lady had sat. She disappeared in a crash of steel, and sparks from where the metal grated against each other.

Was it a terrorist attack? A bombing?

I desperately looked around, wanting a door or something to escape out of. My fingers scrabbled for purchase on the smooth tile of the floor, slipping backwards as fast as I could move. What the hell was going on?

Hooking my fingers around one of the booths, I peered around the corner, and stared at the flashing silver metal. It looked like…two large metal people, fighting. But that couldn't be right – perhaps their programming was glitchy?

Well that was one hell of a huge freaking glitch! Now two people were dead!

I stared some more, and then heard, through the massively loud clashing of the two robots, a human scream that trickled off into a little groan. What if Rylie was still alive?

Crawling across the floor, I slipped slightly, accidentally staining my pants with dark fluid that smelled coppery. I wasn't going to pry into what it was – I knew. One of the robots was directly above me with one strong push from the other, darker robot. As I was frantically dodging the flashing feet, equipped with wheels, I leapt forwards, trying to make it through the feet and to Rylie.

Perhaps she was still alive, and needed me.

As I moved, a shard of piercing hot metal landed on my shoulder, and a thick pain went through my shoulder as something dug in. My hand clasped to my shoulder as my left hand hung limply at my side, and a hot fluid coated my collarbone, making my fingers slippery.

I was almost to the counter when a ripping sound above me made me pause. Hot, blue liquid trailed over me, burning every inch it touched. I screamed shrilly, the pain making me nearly black out. I lay still on the ground, and more blue fluid trickled over me, causing more pain, so much so that I couldn't move. A few drops landed on my face, and the pain caused my eyes to open for a brief second. Some splashed in, and I started screaming even more, hands coming up to paw at my eyes frantically, the pain feeling like I was being stabbed in the eyes, over and over and over.

The two robots were still fighting, and they smashed through the front of the store, into the street. It was a quiet street, and no one else was there. I lay in the destroyed café, screaming as loudly as I could – I felt my voice shaking, and knew that soon I wouldn't be able to make noise.

Rolling over on the floor, I felt like ripping my eyes out, and tearing my skin off if only I could make the pain stop. Stop, stop, stop.

I kept my eyes clamped closed, rubbing them with my fists, dragging my nails down my face in an attempt to rake out my eyes.

The pain mounted even more, and then I felt the world dim, the pain receded, and I felt it wash over me. Peace.

I passed out, gladly going into the darkness that whispered promises of no pain, only rest.

When I woke, it was to blackness. I couldn't open my eyes; something was over top of them. My right hand twitched, and pain flared up my arm. I lifted the burning limb, and touched my face, feeling the thick material covering my eyes. I pulled at it, my actions gaining intensity until I was nearly clawing at the cloth with my right hand – my left wasn't moving.

I started breathing quickly, nearly hyperventilating as I started squirming and pain flared up my whole body.

A hand gripped my right hand from tearing at the bandages anymore. I started, and then relaxed at the pressure – I knew this hand.

"Mom?" I tried, and then winced, and swallowed. My throat felt raw, which was understandable, considering I…what had I seen again?

The pressure on my hand tightened, and another hand joined it, rubbing over mine. It stung, and I bit my lip harshly to distract from the feeling.

"I'm here, honey," I heard her say in a shaky voice, and the hand rubbed a little more firmly, causing a larger jolt of pain to hit me.

"Mom…how long have I been here?" My voice was raspy and dry.

"Almost four days," she said softly, like she was afraid that this was a dream. Her hand increased its pressure on mine. She called outwards, "George, Jace, come see Alex – she's awake!"

I heard something open, and the noise from the hall temporarily entered the room. My brother's voice was loud in the quiet room.

"Hey, about time you woke up."

A smack from mom and a few harsh words, and Dad came over. "Hey kiddo, good to see you awake."

The pain was mounting again; building in me the longer I was awake.

I coughed, and felt something burning at my insides. "What…what happened?"

Mom spoke, still crushing my hand. "Oh, honey, they found you in that café you like so much, unconscious. They brought you here. They said that the gas line exploded and you were caught in the blast…" she spoke quietly, like she was afraid I was going to fall to pieces if I learned the truth.

Confusion laced through me. Had I dreamed up the giant robots? The massive, silvery robots that destroyed the building?

Mom moved; I could hear her jacket slide over her arm and she let my hand go with one of hers, to something beside me.

"I'm just calling the nurse in to check you out – they'll want to know you're awake, love."

I hummed slightly in agreement, still confused. There was no way I simply "made up" two giant metal robots duking it out in the middle of the café. Gas line, my ass.

Someone else came into the room, and I listened as she spoke to my parents, like I wasn't even in the room.

"Alex…I don't know how to say this…but, you won't be able to see anymore…the doctor said some of the flames reached your eyes and burnt them badly enough that they…" Mom broke off with tortured sobs.

Apparently, the nurse was motioned to go ahead and tell me. "The burns on your skin, however, we are still treating. How is your skin feeling?"

Through a sore throat, I muttered, "It hurts, a lot. Like someone is slowly cooking me."

"Can you tell me, on a scale of one to ten, what the pain is? Ten is the worst ever."

I didn't even have to think about it. "7."

She made a small noise, and moved closer, tinkering with something on my left. After a few moments, I felt the pain numbing.

A deep breath was exhaled, and I slipped away into the black place that felt so warm, and comfortable.

I woke, and immediately tried to open my eyes. It took me a few seconds to realize that I wouldn't be able to see again. Right now, it seemed like an alien concept.

My skin felt like someone was taking a blowtorch to it, and my eyes were searing hot, cooking in their sockets.

Clicking was coming from the corner, and I smiled slightly. Jace.

I heard Jace's voice speak from the corner of my room. "You're awake?"

I nodded in response, and fell silent. He moved (I think he stood) and his voice came again, with the clicking stopped. "The parents'll want to know you're awake."

My right hand lifted, and I spoke rapidly. "No, don't – I think Mom nearly crushed my hand the last time."

He chuckled, and I heard him move again, and the clicking started up again. "So. How are you feeling?"

"You must be a dumbass if you have to ask me that."

Another chuckle. "Thought I'd throw it out there; see if you were still you."

"I'm wishing right now that I wasn't, actually."

"I could see that. I'd be doing the same thing." His voice was a lot more serious.

I wondered if he believed the gas-leak story. I wondered if I was going crazy, and had dreamed up the robots fighting in the middle of the café, and that blue fluid leaking over me.

"Jace…It wasn't a gas leak." I spoke softly, but I knew he heard me due to the stopped breathing.

"What was it then?" His voice was still serious, and I knew that he believed what I was telling him.

"Robots. Giant, silver robots with flashy guns and massive silver blades. One had wheels for feet, Jace."

My right hand came up and touched the bandages covering my eyes, and a flare of heat sliced at my eyes. The clicking had stopped again.

"I was going to Rylie, the lady who always works on Wednesday, when one of them was injured, or hit with some sort of fluid weapon, and it all fell on me, in my eyes and on my skin. It burned like acid," I mused, voice soft and barely discernible from the room. I could tell Jace was listening intently though from the way he hadn't made any noise at all.

With Jace, no noise meant that he was really listening to what you were telling him. He was such a techno-freak, always clicking or tapping away at something.

The nurse came in again – I knew it was her due to the loud noise she made in shutting the door. My parents had been carefully shutting the door, and tiptoeing around like I was made of glass. The clicking started up again.

"I'm here to change your bandages. How are you feeling, Alex?"

I sighed; my throat felt a little less raw now. I must have been out for another few days.

"A little better, but my skin is still burning, and my eyes feel like two hot pokers."

I could almost hear her frown. "Hmmm. The pain meds you're on should be numbing the pain entirely…" The tapping of the keys started to slow.

She came over, asked me if it was alright to touch the bandages, and when I nodded, she started to unwind the ones on my right arm.

Clucking slightly, she hissed. "These look very painful, and quite unusual for burns."

"How does it look?"

Jace answered, cutting the nurse off. "It looks like you got into a fight with a blowtorch, 'Lex."

I winced, easily visualizing that lovely picture. "So…No Ms. United States for me, huh?"

Jace snorted. "Like you'd've ever won that one in the first place." His voice was closer when he spoke again, and a hint of curiosity and concern laced his speech. "Hey…why are they blue in the centers?"

"The doctors are working to figure out what they can do to help heal it faster – they haven't seen burns like this before."

I swallowed. Fantastic. So, I was the first one to have robots spill their juice on me, or whatever.

Wrapping my arm in fresh bandages, the nurse swiftly did the same to my left, and my face. When she lifted the bandages off my eyes, she spoke to my softly.

"Alex, can you try to open them a little bit? If it hurts too much, let me know, alright?"

I nodded, and tried to open my eyes slightly, but it was still black. The last shred of hope, dreaming that I couldn't see only because they had covered my eyes with the bandages disappeared.

I was blind. And it wasn't a dream at all. My stomach seemed to drop into the bed.

My parents were frantic with worry. They didn't say as much – to me, at least – but I could tell when they started yelling outside my room, Mom shrieking at the doctors to do something, anything, if it meant I wouldn't die.

Die? Hmmm, that seemed quite possible right now. Every part of me hurt, it burned and smoldered like someone had forgotten to shut off the barbeque and I was leaning over it.

Death seemed quite inevitable at this point. What was the point of living if I was blind, and in excruciating pain for every moment that I wasn't on pain-killers?

About those. They had been getting less and less effective lately. I wasn't sure if it was due to the pain increasing by that much, or if my body was simply metabolizing them. Which should have been impossible, which is what a nurse kindly informed me when I told her the morphine wasn't working at all.

Something about how my brain's signals to interpret the morphine as 'all's fine and dandy, no pain here' were screwed up. So then they put me on something else, to 'enhance the effect of the morphine'. That only helped for a few hours, and after that it burned again. I didn't tell them until it was so bad I could barely breath.

A doctor had come in, and told me that the vitreous humor, basically the clear jelly in the middle of my eyes had solidified, and was now opaque. I wasn't sure how that was possible, but the doctor was insistent. Jace told me that my pupil was white. I bet my eyes looked freaky right now – reddened sclera due to irritation/whatever had fallen in my eyes, brown irises, and white pupils. Oh, and don't forget the creepy burns too.

I was a walking (well, not yet) freak-show.

He had also asked Jace to leave the room, and told me that they weren't able to find a cure for the burns, and that right now they were researching as fast as they could, blah blah blah, I might die. At that, I had sort of perked up. Death was pretty permanent after all.

After some more platitudes about letting my parents know about different burn specialists, and how they were working as fast as possible to look into treatments, he left, and Jace came back in. He parked himself in the corner chair, and the clicking started up again. After a while, the door slid open again.

Mom tentatively came into my room, saying, "Hey love, it's Mom."

As if I couldn't tell her nervous steps from the nurses and doctor's purposeful strides, or Jace's lazy ones.

"Hi Mom," I said softly.

"I brought you some of that pasta you love so much, from the pizza place down the street from your school."

The mere thought of food made my stomach clench and nausea sweep through me. I didn't really want to hurt Mom's feelings, and I knew this was really hard on all of us, but I just couldn't muster up the strength to give a shit.

"I'm not hungry," I murmured, turning my head to the side.

Jace's ever-present clicking of the keys stopped, and I could tell he was annoyed with me. Well, screw him.

Mom faltered a little, and then mustered her strength. "I'll put it in the fridge then, and if you want it, Jace can heat it up for you."

I heard her opening the fridge, placing something inside, and then sitting down on the chair beside my bed. A warm hand gripped my right hand.

I merely lay there, thinking about nothing, not really wanting anything. The pain inside me grew, stronger and stronger, until it felt like I would explode from it, merely burst into little blue-tinted scraps of flesh and blood, eyeballs bursting apart.

The nurse came in then, and checked my IV drip. She asked me a few questions, but I didn't answer.

Mom moved her grip on my hand, and a wave of pain raced through me, searing and torching my arm. I cried out, and the nurse startled a little, as did Mom. Mom dropped my fingers, and I could almost feel the guilt oozing off of her as she realized she had caused me pain.

I felt sort of guilty – it wasn't just Mom, it was my whole body, rebelling on me.

After a little bit, maybe it was the next morning, maybe it was the late evening, a doctor came in. He sounded quite young from what I could hear, but maybe I was mistaken.

"I'm Doctor Ren, I'm here to take more pictures of the burns, and of your eyes, Alex."

I nodded once at him, and heard the click of the shutter some seconds later. He asked me to move my arms, and I could only move my right one. I winced a little, and he immediately stopped.

Jace spoke up once he was gone. "The parents have decided to get you a specialist. You're starting to scare them, 'Lex."

I shrugged. It didn't really matter to me, what they thought. I was dying,

He spoke again. "I've been looking into those robots you said you saw, and so far, the best footage is this one site called therealeffingdeal dot com only some of the things are totally photoshopped. Some seems pretty legit though."

"Therealeffingdeal? What are they, six?" I noted sarcastically.

"I know, but, information's information. And the faster I can get to the bottom of this, the better." He started playing one of the clips, and a particular sound caught my ear. The schick of metal blades sliding out, and the smash of weapons.

I froze, body clenching tightly as my eyes ached suddenly, fiercely, a throwback to what I had gone through a week ago.

Jace must have noticed, as the noise cut off suddenly. "Hey, you want me call the nurse in here?"

I shook my head, eyes squeezed closed tightly. "No, I'm fine."

He sighed. "You know…the parents are taking this really hard. And you aren't helping, 'Lex, they just want to help you."

With pain still shooting through my head, I snapped at him. "Yeah, well, some help they are when I'm dying."

Jace's voice was pissed when he spoke again. 'You aren't going to die, 'Lex, stop being so dramatic."

He was wrong. I could almost feel the poison corroding my body, weakening my muscles, burning my skin off slowly.

I didn't answer. Let him think what he will, but I knew the truth.

Later on, Doctor Rec came back in, and asked me if I wanted my family present when he told me all they had figured out about the burns and my eyes.

I shrugged. If they weren't in here, then it would just be more hassle later. "Sure."

Mom came in, and so did Dad.

Doctor Ren began. "We have looked into the bloodwork, and the biochemistry of the burns, and, frankly, they do not look promising. The blood is being corroded by the foreign substance, and we have no idea yet what Alex had been in contact with to contract such an agent. The best case scenario is, obviously, one where we are able to figure out what the agent is, reverse it, and you'll be able to walk out of here on your own power.

"Worst case scenario…well, we are looking at intensive hospital care, and the distinct possibility that she may not be able to fight it off."

My mother made a choked noise, and I heard some movement. Dad was probably wrapping an arm around her consolingly.

Jace's keyboard was clicking at a ferocious pace.

I spoke, and everyone was intently listening. "So I may die from this?"

I clenched one fist in the pause that followed, almost welcoming the angry pain that flowed up my arm from the movement.

There was a pause from the doctor, and it was as if everyone was holding their breath.

"At this point, it is a possibility, but we will do everything in our power to prevent that from happening. We have specialists around the globe working on it as we speak, and they might be able to find an antidote."

Mom spoke next. "Keep faith, Alex, being positive helps your body recover."

I felt like snorting. Seriously. It wasn't like they'd discover a miracle cure. Pain flared along my eyes from clenching them.

Damn robots.

The door burst open again, and I listened a little to see who it could be.

"You look terrible."

I smiled a little; Liam always was honest. "Why thank you. I've heard blue is in this year." A pause. "Joking, Liam."

"Oh. Of course. I brought the homework you missed in your vacation in the hospital."

"Thanks." It came out dull. I didn't really care.

I could tell from the silence that Liam was analysing me. Trying to figure out why I wasn't responding like I normally would. After a little bit, he spoke again, voice a little less loud.

"I also brought you your iPod. It was cluttering up my room."

"Thanks."

He placed it on the shelf beside my bed, and then was silent.

I was too. There wasn't a lot to say, and to be honest, I didn't give a damn.

The pain flared in my arms again, making me clench the muscles tightly in an effort to relieve the pressure. It didn't work.

"Prime, an interesting case has come to my attention. A female in Reno's General Hospital is suffering from what appears to be burns, but… I'm sending the pictures to you now."

"Hmmm, yes I can see why this would be worth looking into. These 'burns' are highly indicative of a severe reaction with Energon."

"Exactly what I thought. Without the antidote, she'll die within a few earth days. And this isn't even the worst of it."

A small pause. "Yes, I see what you mean. This human…she will have a difficult life now."

"I agree. But it is also up to her what she does with it."

"Very well – Ratchet, make sure this human doesn't die due to contact with one of us. And see what she remembers from the incident. Take Sideswipe with you."