After making a supply run to a nearby gas station and grocery store, it was time to hit the open road again. You couldn't have picked a better time, honestly. The locals were beginning to grow leery of the stranger who drove an ambulance and you didn't want any suspicions to arise, which would result in your cover being blown. That being said, you and Ratchet hightailed it out of there as soon as possible.

Now that you were back on the open road, things calmed down a bit. You were finally able to relax a bit, losing your tense posture as you leaned back in the seat. Ratchet had the air conditioning on and a soft tune was playing from the radio. At the moment, things seemed alright.

Ratchet continued driving for three hours or so, during which you fell asleep at least twice. When you woke up the second time, you just managed to spot a sign that said you were now entering Phoenix, Arizona. Huh, you thought you were in Texas before you saw the sign. Phoenix was a much bigger city and therefore easier to hide in, but that also meant that there were more eyes on you and more chances to be questioned. You decided to throw caution to the wind right now and focus on finding a place to lay low while you planned your next move.

———

The outskirts of the city were more spaced out, with less people and traffic everywhere. You and Ratchet both had to agree that this was better than trying to navigate through the heart of the city itself. However, you were somewhat caught off guard when Ratchet suddenly stopped in the middle of the dusty road.

"Hey, what's wrong?" You asked, a hint of concern lacing your voice as you leaned forwards. You found yourself anxiously reaching for your pistol, not sure what to expect.

Ratchet didn't answer right away, the low hum of his engine filling the silent air until he did speak. "I'm receiving an Autobot distress beacon from an unknown location. It looks to be originating from outside the city." He murmured, slowly starting to pull forward while he analyzed the signal.

You nearly jumped out of your seat in excitement when he said 'Autobot'. "Let's go find it, then! There could be an Autobot out there who needs help!" You exclaimed, staring at the radio screen that was now just a faded blue color with the Autobot symbol in the center.

"Decepticons have been known to disguise their signals as Autobot distress beacons, but I don't recall any Decepticons that are online at this moment." Ratchet mused and you could almost imagine him scratching his chin had he been in robot form. "I suppose we should check it out. However, we must be cautious. It could be a trick."

"Alright! Let's go!" You cheered, fastening your seatbelt and sitting back in your seat. You could hardly contain your excitement, but you also felt a pit of dread forming in your stomach. What if this was a trick? What if there wasn't an Autobot out there? What if the Autobots were already dead and you just didn't know? All these what-ifs whirled through your mind, which only made your anxiety worse. You nervously chewed on your lip as Ratchet began to drive, leaving the city and heading off into the seemingly endless desert.

———

Ratchet displayed the beacon on the radio screen so you could see. There was a flashing dot, which you guessed was where the beacon was coming from, and there was another dot that was supposedly Ratchet. Your eyes were glued to the screen as you watched Ratchet's dot get closer and closer to the beacon, your heart pounding away in your chest. You had your pistol laying in your lap just in case things went south. Then, when the two dots finally met, you felt this strange sense of fear overwhelm you.

You looked up when Ratchet came to a stop, seeing that he had stopped a good distance away from an abandoned warehouse. It was rusty, run-down, and pretty much falling apart at the seams. It gave you the chills just looking at it. "The signal's coming from in there?" You questioned, slowly wrapping your fingers around your pistol as you sat up straight.

Ratchet's engine shut off and everything except the radio screen went dark. "Yes, I believe so." He replied, silently studying the building. "I'm not registering any human heat signatures on my scanner."

You drew in a deep breath and sighed, forcing yourself to relax. If no one was in there, then what was sending out that beacon? "I'm going in." You mumbled, already getting out before Ratchet could say anything.

"Y/N, please be careful."

"I know." You mumbled, gripping your pistol tightly as you slowly approached the warehouse. You held your breath as you shuffled along the outer wall towards a door that most likely led inside. Using what you learned in N.E.S.T, you scoped out the area before quietly making your entrance. The door opened with a slight creak and you paused, waiting and listening. When nothing happened, you continued.

The warehouse was fairly empty, only a few run-down machines and scattered tools remained. But, you hadn't reached the main room yet. You silently walked down the dark hallway, holding a flashlight in one hand and your pistol in the other. At the next intersection, you made a left and went down another hallway. By this time, the aura of creepiness that the warehouse was giving off had been sending shivers down your spine and making your skin prickle with goosebumps. Something just didn't feel right.

It took around five minutes of wandering through the maze of hallways to finally reach the main room; a gigantic, open space filled with cardboard boxes, newspapers, and trash. You cautiously poked your head around the corner and took a quick glance around, though your eyes missed something. As you were scanning around the room again, your flashlight caught the glint of something metal in the far corner of the room. You focused on it and narrowed your eyes, trying to see what it was.

Although you were curious, you approached with an air of caution. As you got closer, you began to make out the shape of the object. It was oddly shaped, seemed to be made out of black metal, and.... wait. This wasn't just any object, it was a truck! A GMC Topkick 6500 by the looks of it. Upon further examination, you soon discovered that this was no ordinary truck.

This was someone you hadn't seen in quite some time. Someone that most believed had perished long ago in the battle of Chicago, whose whereabouts had been kept secret until this very moment.

Ironhide.