Disclaimer: I do not own the Transformers. But that doesn't stop me loving them! Or, in some cases, such as below, the opposite...
Prowl hung upside down from the ceiling, watching as the ruckus unfolded below him. Bumblebee had been making a kite, resulting in a piece of sticky tape getting stuck to his foot. The yellow minibot had then crashed into Bulkhead, who jumped up, startled, and knocked over a few tubs of paint, which crashed down onto the floor. Optimus had chosen that moment to walk into the room, and slipped on the paint, gliding around the room before landing in a chair. Ratchet had advanced into the room with a mop, and began cleaning up while Bumblebee and Bulkhead continued dancing around. Prowl sighed, irritated that he couldn't meditate with all the noise erupting from below.
"Decepticon attack on Sumdac Towers!" announced Teletraan-1 suddenly, making Optimus and the rest of his team look up (or, Prowl's case, down).
"That's where Sari is!" blurted Bumblebee, transforming and bolting out the door before Optimus even gave the order.
"Autobots!" called Prime, turning as Bumblebee zoomed past him and raising his arm. "Transform and roll out!"
Prowl dropped from the ceiling, just avoiding getting covered in paint as he landed next to the door. The Autobots raced towards Sumdac Towers, hoping that everyone would be okay. The got there, to find the entire place covered in a blue, pulsing dome, with the Decepticons nowhere to be found. Bumblebee was nowhere to be seen either, but Sari and her father were in plain view, trapped just inside the dome, looking panicked and frightened. Sari waved, screaming for help.
"Where's Bumblebee?" asked Optimus, transforming and looking around urgently for any trace of his scout.
"We don't know!" shouted Captain Fanzone. "He touched the dome, and he's now… not here!"
The Autobots stood back, looking at the giant dome.
"We're taking the chance," announced Optimus finally, leading a charge towards the dome. The second the Autobots touched it, however, they were shocked with a strong electric current, which seared their frames with pain, but failed to knock them out. Thankfully, the pain soon died away, and they found themselves on a metal floor, surrounded by iron walls. Optimus stood up, before the floor moved and sent him crashing down to the floor again.
"The floor's moving!" observed Bulkhead.
"Is everyone okay?" called Prime, picking himself up.
Ratchet and Bulkhead chorused their affirmative replies and Prowl just raised his arm and nodded.
"Where's Bumblebee?" asked Bulkhead.
Prowl found that he had landed on something that wasn't quite the appropriate metal to make cages out of. As Bulkhead sat up, the ninja-bot yelped as he found himself tumbling down to the bottom of their enclosure.
"Ght…offngm…" came a moan. Bulkhead jumped up in surprise, making the entire cage rock precariously. As Ratchet and Prime yelled for everyone to keep still, a yellow and black minibot clambered up from where Bulkhead had been sitting a moment ago.
"Watch where you're landing!" snapped an annoyed and somewhat squashed Bumblebee, marching out of the way and sitting down in a corner.
"There's got to be a way out of this thing," Optimus mused, pounding on the walls.
"Give up, Autobot!" rang the screechy, obnoxious voice of Starscream. "There's no way out!"
"Starscream!" shouted the Prime. "Let us go!"
Prowl wondered why everyone tended to ask the villains for things they would never grant.
"I'll let you go soon enough!" cackled Starscream, before going silent, ignoring Prime's frustrated shouts.
"Calm down," Ratchet told him. "It's not going to help."
Optimus, sighing, sat down in the corner opposite Bumblebee and rested an elbow on his knee plate.
"Now how are we supposed to save Sari?" scowled Bumblebee, prodding the floor.
"I'd worry about yourselves if I were you," called Starscream, swerving just to make the Autobots' ride more uncomfortable.
Sighing, Optimus and his team finally accepted that there was no way out of this metal cage and settled for sitting around and wondering what was going to happen.
"Does anyone else realise it's getting colder?" Bumblebee finally said.
Nobody had a chance to reply before suddenly the floor of the cage fell away, dumping the Autobots into the air and sending them plummeting down to the ground.
"Told you I'd let you go soon!" screeched Starscream, before turning and flying away, making sure to wiggle his tail section at the Autobots as he left.
Optimus sat up just in time to see him vanish into the distance.
"Is anyone injured?" he asked.
Prowl dragged Bumblebee out from under a pile of snow.
"I think I'm okay," the cyber-ninja replied.
"Er, aside from being cold, no," added Bumblebee, checking around him.
"Where are we?" grunted Bulkhead, climbing out of another snow pile.
Everyone was silent for a second, before Bumblebee shouted, "I can't believe it! We're in Antarctica! The 'Cons dropped us in Antarctica and now we're all going to freeze to death in this cold and creepy place called Antarctica!"
The yellow minibot stopped and took a deep breath.
"Anyways, I can't see any way out. In fact, there's probably no way out!"
"We should keep moving," said Optimus, leading his team in the direction his internal compass told him was north. They walked for almost half an hour in silence, before Bumblebee brought up the topic of their somewhat unstable situation again.
"So we're just going to keep walking and walking until we drop from frozenitis or whatever?! Yep, we're definitely trapped!"
"Actually," interrupted Ratchet. "Some parts of Antarctica are narrower than others. If the 'Cons have dropped us on the Antarctic Peninsula, we could be able to get back."
"How would we know?" asked Bulkhead.
"There's nothing here but snow," added Bumblebee, picking up a handful of the powdery fluff, which melted on his digits.
"Prowl?" suggested Optimus. "Could you fly up and take a look?"
Prowl activated his jet pack engine, which coughed and spluttered before raising him into the air in a plume of dark-coloured smoke.
"Can you see anything?" Optimus asked, choking on the smoke in his ventilation shafts.
"No- too much smoke- I can't- Look out!"
There was a loud crunching noise, followed by a few clashes and clanks. When the smoke blew away, the Autobots found themselves bent over Prowl, who lay clutching his right side on the ground, coughing and spluttering.
"Prowl?" called Bumblebee. "Are you okay?"
The ninja-bot groaned and feebly sat up, spitting out a bit of energon. Pain was blurring his vision, but he could make out the outline of his teammates standing over him, shielding his frame from most of the falling snow.
"Not really," he finally replied.
"Your engine's busted," announced Ratchet, performing a quick check-up. "That's what you get if you try and use a frozen engine without warming it up first."
"We should find cover," suggested Optimus, as Ratchet helped Prowl into a standing position. "We can't stay here. Bumblebee and I will scout ahead. Bulkhead and Ratchet, follow and look after Prowl."
The ninja-bot certainly wasn't pleased with the instruction to 'look after' him, but didn't speak up. Ratchet supported him as he took a few wobbly steps, before more or less getting the hang of walking again. The three Autobots watched as Optimus and Bumblebee sped on ahead of them.
"How're you holding up?" asked Ratchet ten minutes later, observing as Prowl's visor narrowed in pain.
"I'm fine," the other mech replied, stressing the word 'fine'.
"Well you sure don't look fine."
Prowl gave up and just groaned in pain, reluctantly admitting that his engine was hurting a lot, and rested a bit more of his body weight on Ratchet.
"We've found something," panted Bumblebee, trudging up to the trio.
"What?" asked Ratchet, hope mixed with sarcasm in his voice. "The Allspark?"
"No," replied Optimus, following behind Bumblebee. "Just an overhang."
"How far?"
"Well, it wouldn't be more than two minutes from our current position. Come on."
Just like Optimus had promised, the Autobots arrived at the overhang quite quickly. It wasn't a very big ledge, but it was shelter, and would at least partly protect them from the icy cold.
Ratchet sat Prowl down near the innermost part of the secluded area, and settled beside him. Optimus sat down on the ninja-bot's left side, with Bumblebee on his other side, and Bulkhead on the outside.
"Who wants to play a game?" asked Bumblebee, attempting to be cheerful as usual, now that they were somewhat safe.
"We should work on preserving body heat," replied Optimus, ignoring the prospect of a game. At his words, his team shuffled closer to each other, sharing their warmth with their comrades.
"Is there any other way of keeping warm, Ratchet?" the Prime asked, consulting the experienced medic, who was taking a look inside Prowl's engine.
"Nup, no way I can fix that," grimaced Ratchet, closing the opening to Prowl's engine box. "Well, Optimus, you could try slowly starting your engines, but that would mean you're using up more energy, which means that you'd offline faster."
"You know what?" piped up Bumblebee. "Now I think we're just going to sit here until we all offline from frozenitis."
Prowl was slumped over in pain, his frame shaking as he tried to meditate his hurting engine into silence.
"Focus!" he hissed to himself, frustrated at his inability to concentrate and push his pain away. "Focus, I can do this… urgh…"
"Stop tryin' ta fight the pain," came Ratchet's gruff voice, disturbing his shallow attempts at concentration. "Let it come. You can moan and cry all you want."
Prowl ignored him and squeezed his optics shut, focusing on the single thought of darkness.
"You're just going to end up purgin' your tank if you continue."
Unable to bring his cold, exhausted mind to concentrate any further, Prowl onlined his visor and shifted closer to Ratchet, seeking a bit of warmth and comfort. He still refused to cry, despite the sharp, intense pain searing his engine every few seconds and the tossing and turning of his tank.
Meanwhile, Optimus and Bulkhead were desperately trying to keep Bumblebee warm. They had all known he'd be the first to go, to succumb to the cold. His small size meant that he had unsteady internal temperature regulators, and would freeze or burn faster than any larger bot.
"Leave me," the little yellow bot whispered hoarsely, knowing his end was near.
"K-keep yourselves warm. There's no way I'll live."
Optimus rubbed Bumblebee's arms, hoping that what little heat it created would keep the scout functioning for just a few more kliks.
"That is not the Autobot way," the Prime told him, his voice strained and static-laced from the icy winds.
"I find it rather ironic that after battling Decepticons all these years, getting smacked down, shot at, blown up, this is how our lights go out?" the little yellow scout mused, before leaning back against the wall.
Bumblebee sighed quietly, and Optimus and Bulkhead watched as his bright, blue optics slowly started to dim.
The Autobots were in a sorry state, both physically and mentally. Bumblebee was long dead; the cold had taken him away, and now Prowl was quite obviously going to follow after him soon.
Ratchet had been right. Prowl had ended up purging his tank, and it left the black and gold cyber-ninja weaker than they'd seen him since his incident with a mutant cockroach that had threatened to take over the city.
As Prowl's visor flickered a little, Optimus took his servo, providing him with something to take his mind off what was about to happen.
"Hold on, Prowl," he whispered, tired and weary himself from the weather. The wind gushed around, blowing drifts of snow everywhere, starting to bury the remaining Autobots alive. Optimus brushed a layer of snow off Prowl's forearm.
"Hold on, as there is always hope."
Prowl weakly turned his helm to meet the Prime's optics. Seeing straight past his leader's false, hopeless optimism, his features rose into a sad smile, and Prowl groaned softly, his optics offlining behind his visor.
They would never shine again.
"Why don't we just let go?" suggested Bulkhead, turning his helm to meet Optimus's optics. The two surviving Autobots were leaning against each other, exhausted. Death had proceeded to claim Ratchet for its own, and, surrounded by the frozen shells of those they had considered friends and colleagues, even the Prime was beginning to lose hope.
"After you, Bulk," he wearily replied, gently grasping his comrade's servo.
Bulkhead clapped him the back in his usual way, before he, too, offlined his optics permanently.
Optimus's cold, aching systems drew a low moan from his vocaliser as he cast one long, last look at his offline teammates lying almost peacefully in the snow. He was proud of them, remembering all the battles where they'd stood by his side and fought for a planet that wasn't even their own. They had fought, even though they weren't intended to be doing so.
Sweeping his gaze over Ratchet's relaxed-looking grey corpse, then Prowl's final smile, then Bulkhead's body that was just draining of colour, the Prime let his thoughts dwell on each of them, separately, before settling on Bumblebee, who was half-buried under the snow. He just barely recalled, in his dazed processor and memory, the little yellow joyrider's bravery in asking them to sacrifice him so that they could survive longer.
We all underestimated you, Bumblebee, he silently thought. Then he wished Sari, the other Autobots in the galaxy and the citizens of Planet Earth well, telling them that he'd be watching them, without uttering a word.
Finally, Optimus Prime offlined his optics, and followed his comrades on the pathway to the inevitable.
Jazz all but sprang out of the Elite Guard ship, not caring about the icy winds that immediately hit him as he landed in the snow and took in some of the scenery. Jumping up, Jazz activated his seldom-used jet pack thrusters and lightly skimmed over the surface of the snow, not daring to go any higher in case he would lose control and get blown away. He was racing against time here; the Autobots' life signals had already vanished, but Jazz hadn't given up hope. Steering himself towards where his energy tracker had detected life last, the cyber-ninja propelled himself faster, his spark pounding inside its chamber with the suspense of the situation.
Jazz skidded to a stop upon reaching the small overhang where he suspected his Autobot comrades had taken cover from the snowstorm, and possibly lost their lives to the frozen powers of nature. He froze, the sight before him flipping his processor back and forth, his mind racing, yet numb at the same time.
It was the feeling of absolute helplessness, when one knew they were too late, and couldn't do anything at all about their situation.
Jazz, trembling in cold and grief, stumbled forwards through the snow, until he was close enough to touch the grey, lifeless corpses lying before him.
There was Bumblebee, almost completely covered in snow, except for his horns, part of his helm and a servo. His small frame was just slightly visible beneath its icy sheath, and Jazz could almost picture his large, lively optics going offline. Shuddering off the thought, Jazz moved on to the next body.
Ratchet.
The old medic looked as if he was merely in recharge, if the relaxed position he was lying in was any indication. His mouth hung slightly open, as if he had been leaning against the wall, watching the blizzard when he slipped off.
Bulkhead's servo was rested on Prime's shoulder. The gentle giant had obviously survived longer than Ratchet and Bumblebee, probably because of his sheer size. Jazz quickly moved on to Optimus, his joints already starting to freeze up. And he'd have to walk back to the ship, as his engine would probably fall apart if he attempted to use his jet pack.
Optimus himself seemed to have been watching his teammates, playing witness as they each offlined in turn, before eventually joining them himself. Jazz knew he would greatly miss the Prime, with his light sense of humour, good temper and strong leadership abilitites.
And Prowl, his friend and fellow cyber-ninja, lay nestled between Optimus and Ratchet, a small, sentimental smile etched on his face. At the sight, Jazz gave a low keen. Prowl hadn't died alone, that was for sure. As the falling snow landed on his armour, Prowl's expression never faltered. Jazz knew he'd always cared, always been a great mech deep inside, and would wear that eerie, spark-shattering smile forever.
"Prime?" he called, opening a comm link to Sentinel. "We were too late."