I do not own TFP.

Enjoy.

They were being chased. In fact, they'd been driving for the better part of four cycles, more than they'd ever endured at the Academy. At first, Arcee had cursed him under swift vents, now there wasn't even energy left for that. Stupid 'Cons.

The Decepticon on their tailpipes was a mean bruiser, sent courtesy of the sergeant that Tailgate had failed to snipe. So far they hadn't managed to lose him, though both of them were the best at the Academy. The Academy. Oh, Primus, he now wished that he'd listened to his carrier and never gone there. He was a coward, a coward with stupid principles that he didn't understand, and there was no getting around that. He sagged a little at the thought that if they got out of this, he was going to have to explain everything to Arcee.

A burst of static came through his comm. link. "I have enough energy left for one last spurt, then I'm done." She sounded exhausted, which was probably why she'd spoken through the comm. link and not shouted, even though they were both side by side. "Me too. 1...2...3...Go!"

They accelerated with a will, speedometer quickly climbing up. 140...150...170... The bruiser was caught off guard and fell behind. They knew that it wouldn't be long before he caught up. They'd only have a window of a few moments.

"Transform!" Arcee yelled desperately through their comm. link. He shifted rapidly in mid air to dive behind a fallen tin roof.

Tailgate strained not to vent. He looked at his partner, who was staring straight in front of her, not even moving a neck servo.

The Decepticon zoomed by.

He heard Arcee began to vent, at first slowly, then rapidly. She'd really thought they'd got it for good this time. He heard a small clang, and realised that she'd fallen from her perfect crouch onto her aft. He couldn't bring himself to laugh - he was resisting the urge to do the same. He was trembling from fear and exhaustion. "Just... a few... moments..."

Yeah..." He choked back. Once they were recovered, she'd give him the dressing down he deserved, but not yet. Just a few moments...

"Why didn't you shoot her?" He winced. Here it came.

"What?" She demanded, voice tight and strained.

"I-Nothing."

"Then why didn't you fragging shoot the 'Con? It's your fault we're neck deep in scrap!"

"I..." She deserved answers - as his partner on the field, they were both equally responsible for the other's actions. And besides that... She had to know how he felt, what he'd realised, as he stared at the sergeant through his scope with a digit on the trigger.

" 'I' what?!"

Tailgate sighed. How in the Pit was he supposed to explain it to her if he couldn't explain it to himself? "I don't want to be an Autobot!"

Arcee stared at him, aghast. "What-No-I don't mean it like-I mean, I don't want to be a Decepticon, either!"

His partner's optic ridges drew together into a slow frown. "What are you..."

"I mean..." He struggled to get his thoughts into a meaningful sentence. "I don't want to kill any more."

Arcee's optics softened a little. "We don't have a choice, you know."

"Of course we do!" He wanted to roar, but he restricted himself to a whisper-shout, so that they wouldn't attract undue attention. Even though the enemies seemed to be gone for now, anybot could be lurking around in the haze. "I can choose, and I chose not to offline that femme!"

"Why? She was a Decepticon! If you hadn't done it, she would have tried to do the same to us - and she almost succeeded, in case you don't remember!"

He looked down and away, no longer able to look into her optics. "I-I don't know. It seemed easy at the Academy. We were being taught to kill, but I could lie to myself that it wasn't what we were really being prepared for. And now, on the battlefield, it just doesn't...it doesn't make sense any more. I've had enough."

She stared at him, shocked, as she drew conclusions. Of course she was shocked. Tailgate, star student at the Academy. The only bot to match him in the entire batch had been Arcee. A true patriot, he'd been the first to have the Autobot logo emblazoned across his chest plates. It had hurt like the Pit, and just to compete with him, Arcee had stamped it onto her winglets, the most sensitive part of her anatomy. They'd been rivals, then partners, now friends, bonded by battle. And now?

"Coward. You're not deserting on my watch." She hissed. He bared his denta in frustration. "I don't want to desert! That's not what I was saying!"

"Then what?"

He balled up his digits, wanting to punch something. How could he explain it to her? How could he explain the questions that assaulted him every time he thought of pulling the trigger?

"Why do you kill, Arcee? How do you convince yourself that you're worthy of deciding whether a bot is ready to join the Allspark? Why do you fight? What the Pit are we doing here, on these killing fields, playing games to see who lives and who offlines?" The questions had been tormenting him ever since he'd first stepped onto the field, and he felt the need to pour it all out to somebot other than his conscience.

He desperately wanted her to understand.

"Well?"

She remained silent.

"By what right-"

She cut him off with a glare. "I do this because I think that it's the right thing to do. I do this because I'm fighting for the 'Bot's I fight with, and if I didn't, then they would die."

Tailgate looked away, guilty, and shifted his pedes slightly. He'd put them both in danger, and while he could accept that for himself, it hadn't been right to do it to Arcee.

"And that's it. The reasons are simple. In fact, I can't understand what's wrong with your scrap." He winced.

"Now let's get out of here and talk somewhere safer. Where I can beat you up without being heard."

He suddenly remembered just how exhausted he was. He didn't have the energy to argue further. "Do you have any idea where we are?"

Arcee frowned. "No. We'd better contact the Colonel." She placed a digit to her comm. link. "Sir, it's me and Tailgate...yes, we know, we got separated...yeah, he missed. It was an accident, sir." Tailgate rubbed the back of his helm. He was glad that she'd lied, even if he didn't deserve it.

"We're...we don't know...okay, sir." Triangulating our position, she mouthed. He nodded. Then she heard something more, and her optics widened. "In enemy territory?"

Tailgate felt a slight chill run down his spinal strut. If they were behind Decepticon lines...

"I...okay."

"What did he say?"

Arcee looked tense. "He said to find someplace safe till the fighting dies down. Slag it all." Tailgate drooped a little. "Well, we can't stay here forever." He sat up and stretched carefully, offering Arcee a servo. She took it wordlessly and started off in a random direction into the haze, dragging him along.

After a little while, their vents grew ragged. Neither had the humility to accept it, but they were both drained of energon, tired of being constantly on the alert for 'Con threats, and basically on the verge of collapse. It would be a shameful and painful way to die if they didn't find somewhere to rest soon.

Tailgate was almost about to admit defeat when they spotted a wall-like structure up ahead. Excited, they hurried towards it.

It turned out to be a tall wall of tempered steel, probably the remains of a high caste house. Suddenly, Arcee fell, and Tailgate knelt down next to her. "Arcee! Are you okay?"

She frowned and pushed herself up. "Tailgate...I tripped on something."

"I guessed."

She rolled her optics. "It felt like a hatch."

"A hatch? That means an underground passageway." He looked down and saw the said hatch. "Arcee, get up, you're sitting on the doorway."

"Mmf."

They worked together to pull it open. Then Arcee gracefully jumped in. Tailgate followed. "Should we close it?" Arcee wondered.

"Well, no sense in keeping it open." He said, closing it with an audible click. They were now enveloped in pitch darkness, the only light that of their optics. He began to wonder if they had made a mistake. The smoke above ground had at least provided slightly better visibility. "Don't worry." said Arcee. "This place is okay to rest in. Let's just focus on getting out of this alive."

Tailgate grimaced. "Right. That means using up emergency rations."

"Are you sure? I could probably go a little while longer-"

"Seriously?"

"Okay, maybe not, but we don't know how long we might be stuck here."

Tailgate realised that she was right. "Okay. Then we drink just enough to replenish one fourth of our reserves?"

"Fine."

They sat down and whipped out their spare energon cubes, refueling greedily. When Tailgate was done, he began to think. Should they stay here or move ahead? It seemed safe enough. The walls were dry, firm, crumbly stone, so it was reasonable to to assume there were few chances of a cave in. Staying here looked like the safest option for now.

"So, what are you planning to do?"

"About what?"

"I mean, if you don't want to kill any more..."

"Right." Arcee didn't sound very angry any more, which cheered Tailgate up a little. Discussion was the way to get through this. "I don't really know." There was silence. "I didn't think it through beyond the whole being confused part." More silence. "I'm sorry." He added. "I guess I... I mean... I know that we need change. I think that the 'Cons are going about it the wrong way, but if we take part in violence as well, aren't we just as bad as them? Then how does it matter which side you're on? Both are using violence to achieve their ends!"

Arcee sighed. "They started this war."

"Yeah, but we fought back with attacks of our own."

Arcee's optics squinted in the darkness. It suddenly frustrated him that he couldn't see her expression. At least she couldn't see his, either. "I remember Ironhide once said that we're fighting to end this war. The Decepticons are fighting to control everything. There's a difference."

"Maybe." He said quietly. "I won't be joining the 'Cons, that's for sure." Arcee made a relieved sound. "I could be a Neutral."

"Don't be stupid." Arcee snapped. "Praxus and Nova Cronum were both Neutral, and look at what it got them. Megatron's out to destroy anybot and anything that's not on his side, including Neutrals. That's like saying that you can't choose, so you stand aside and do nothing!"

Both of them jumped as the echoes of Arcee's loud voice came back. Do nothing... do nothing...nothing...nothing...

"Scrap." She whispered. If there was something or someone malicious in the tunnels, it definitely knew about them now. Tunnels... Wait, tunnels! An idea sparked in Tailgate's mind.

"Arcee... If these are old tunnels..."

"They could lead out of the city, like in Kaon!" completed Arcee. Out of the...of the...city...city...city... "We won't have to wait for a ceasefire! We could bypass all the 'Cons completely."

He frowned, wanting to continue their discussion. But then he decided that getting back to base was more important.

"Come on." He got up and began walking in the direction he was facing. Turning around to make sure Arcee was following him, he noticed how her multicolored optics were bobbing in the dark. He grinned. Now he knew what ghosts looked like. The optics curved in a smile and he received a sharp poke in the back-strut. "You look just as funny, thank you very much."

"Be one with the Allspark, spirit." He whispered back, quoting one of his favorite lines from the Tomes of Rhuin.

"I'll be sure to rip out your optics and feed them to my spirit army." She mocked.

They walked on for a couple of breems, keeping up the light banter. As they walked, Tailgate noticed that the soft echoes started getting louder. "We've come to the end of the tunnels." Arcee guessed. "I bet there's another door in front of us." After that, Tailgate walked with a servo out in front of him, so that he wouldn't bump into anything.

Finally, his digits touched something rough that was definitely not air. "Arcee, stop." The pedesteps behind him ceased. He took another step forward and began to pass his digits over it. "I hope this isn't just a dead end-Aha!"

"What is it?"

Tailgate grinned in triumph. They'd reached somewhere, even if he had no idea where that was. "It's a door. And I can feel the latch. Do we go in?"

Arcee was quiet for a few moments as she considered the question. "There might be 'Cons on the other side." She warned. "If there are, can I count on you to fight? If not, let's turn back right now."

Tailgate vented deeply. "Yes, you can."

"Then let's roll." He pulled the latch and pushed the door outwards. It was heavy and thick, but thankfully well oiled. As the door began to swing, they heard the chattering of high pitched voices. There was light in the room beyond and it spilled over Arcee's uncertain faceplate. "Just do it." She said, gritting her dentas. "We'll deal with it."

He pushed the door with all his strength. Arcee joined him in the effort. They could now see into a small white room. There were three bunks in five rows each on one wall. The chatter died down. "The door is opening!" cried several panicked voices. Arcee abandoned her efforts to open the door and instead charged up her blasters.
"It might be a Decepticon bunker." She whispered.

"Then we're good as dead." He whispered back.

"Shh!" yelled one voice, managing to rise above the others. Then everything was quiet.

Tailgate opened the door fully...to come face-to-blade with a figure about half his height. At first, he thought that it was a minicon. Then he realised that the bot behind the blade had her optics screwed shut in fear. Minicons were usually anything but fearful, despite their size. "Take another step and I'll rip your faceplate off and feed it to a Predacon!"

"It's a sparkling." Arcee realised, lowering her blasters. Then Tailgate noticed the smaller forms clustered around the femmeling. "Lots of them!"

"Put your blasters down, we won't hurt you!" Arcee crouched down to be level with the blade. The sparkling opened one optic, shivering. Tailgate copied her. "We just need a place to rest, that's all."

"To rest?" The femmeling retracted the blade and moved away from the entrance. "That's different then." Tailgate and Arcee glanced at each other for a moment, then they stepped through.

It was a very cramped space, filled with bunks on the walls, except for one, with a door, and toys and sparklings on the floor. There might have been about fifteen of them in total. The two bots decided, eventually, to sit on the floor. The sparklings clustered around them, curious but too afraid to ask questions. The apparent leader, the femmeling with the blade, sat next to them. She had no paintjob – like a low caste – with sharp blue eyes. "Where are you from?"

"We're running from a bot." There was no telling if these sparklings were Autobot or Decepticon. "Why?"

"Um, well, he was trying to kill us." Arcee glared at Tailgate, who pretended not to notice.

"They're Autobots!" They'd noticed the symbols proudly displayed on her winglets and his chestplates. "Eee!"

"Run!"

"We won't hurt you!" Tailgate cried out. The sparklings moved away from them, fearful. "We just want to go back above ground!"

"What's going on here?" The door on the far-side of the wall broke open. A femme stood there. Her paint was old and scratched and her midsection showed badly repaired welding scars. The sparklings quieted immediately when they saw her. "Strongarm! I told you not to let anybot in."

"She tried her best." Arcee and Tailgate stood up. "Who are you?"

"We're Autobots. We found this tunnel by accident while looking for a way out of the city. We just want a way out." The femme vented deeply. "Alright. Name the price."

"What?"

"How much will I have to pay for you to keep this quiet?"

"Nothing!" Arcee protested. "We want to get out of enemy territory. That's it. We don't need anything. We won't hurt anybot, and we won't tell either. We swear it on our Autobot honor." The femme relaxed. "I'm sorry, but you can never trust anybot these sols. Especially bots who seem to believe in their own propaganda." She stared at them steadily. Tailgate resisted the urge to shrink under her gaze. "What is this place?"

"It's a safe place. For sparklings who have been left behind, or those that have ben put under my protection by their formers. You must keep it secret. All these sparklings are from both factions, or even neutral. If either of the sides heard, somebot might just take it into their processors to destroy us." Tailgate felt something shift in his spark at her words. What was he fighting for, anyway? He looked at the sparklings, sparks that had undergone so much suffering already. A thought, a feeling, bubbled in his mind and rose steadily to the surface.

"We will, don't worry."

The femme gestured for them to come closer. "I'll take you up immediately. The less time you stay here, the better." They nodded and followed her out into a long, musty corridor. Then, suddenly, Arcee turned to face him. "Tailgate. Wait." She ex-vented. "If you don't want to fight, then don't. Stay here. You were right, we can't keep exchanging attack for attack, and I can't force you to fight. I need to fight, I need to do something. But if you don't want to…it's your choice."

The old femme cut in with a dry chuckle. "If you want to stay, I'll take you. I know this is sudden, but this is war, and we don't have the luxury of building trust. I could use some help. I take care of them as best as I can, but my strength isn't what it used to be. If you want to do it, you'll have a place to go."

"I…" He faced both of them in turn. Arcee was upset, but controlling herself. The femme was looking hopeful but wary. "I've made my decision. I think…I think I'm fighting for them. The sparklings, and for everybot else. I can't live in a world as terrible as this. I'll do what I need to do." He shuddered as images passed in frontbk of his optics. "Even if it means killing. Fighting. I'll do it."

He met Arcee's ringed optics. I'll fight for you, too.

"Okay?"

"Okay."

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