A/N: Alright, so this story came to be when I was thinking about Quickshadow's possible backstory. From what we've seen from her so far in the show, it's made clear that she is an individual who carries herself with confidence, a certain degree of grace, and has an impressive skill set, self defense and martial arts being among said skill set. So, it would only be logical to assume that she's seen quite a fair bit of action, possibly having fought in the Great War for Cybertron. But meanwhile, Heatwave and his Team were in stasis during the entirety of that cataclysmic event.
That's what eventually got the gears in my head turning, and voilà this fic I bring before you all, was born.
While the way I write Quickshadow and Heatwave are mostly my own interpretations, I'll admit, I browsed through RP/Ask tumblr blogs like qu1ck5h4d0w and rollingtotherescue (Heatwave) to help me get a better feel of these two characters and make sure I wasn't straying too far off the mark. I definitely recommend these two blogs for any writer requiring a bit of a crash course on Heatwave's and/or Quickshadow's personalities.
Anyway, without further ado... on with the story!
Chapter I
If there was one thing Quickshadow truly appreciated about Earth, it was its skyline.
Specifically during the night hours–stars glowing brightly in the encompassing darkness of space, a spellbinding panorama stretched across the entire planet in what seemed to be a never ending canvas, consisting solely of black and blue gradients and hues.
Or at least that was how Boulder described it.
"A true spectacle, one of many wonders this planet has to offer," he had commented earlier that evening, catching a glimpse of the femme's optics flashing upwards as the Rescue Team prepared to turn in for the night after their latest grueling mission.
There had been an issue regarding the structural integrity of one of the old buildings outside Griffin Rock. During his early delivery rounds ("ungodly hours of the morning, more like," Kade had so helpfully chimed), Jerry had dialed up the town's emergency dispatch, calling about a tower he had happened on along his delivery route, practically crumbling before his eyes.
Literally; the poor man didn't even have the opportunity to finish his call as he almost immediately found himself and his cargo caught in the barrage of fragmenting concrete and stone, trapping him within the confines of his vehicle's cab. Luckily, the Team made it just in time to prevent the rest of the shoddy structure from totally crushing the truck driver. Although the same couldn't be said for his deliveries.
Quickshadow soon made her arrival amidst the repair and clean up of the site, greeted by curious glances as they spotted her form peeking just over a small ridge further down the road. She screeched to a well timed halt in front of them.
"What are you doing here?"
Converting into bot mode, the Ausley Benton threw a coy smile at her addresser, optics half lidded.
"Why, to see you, Heatwave. As well as the rest of your little rescue unit, of course–" Her expression of feigned innocence then shifted as she calmly assessed the scene, scrutiny contorting her features.
"–the Prime thought it appropriate that I pop by for a brief inspection and report to him of your current…" She gestured vaguely at their cluttered surroundings. "–Activities; and it certainly appears that my visit couldn't have been more aptly timed. Found yourselves in a bit of a cock up, hm? Allow me to lend a servo."
She leant down to grab a slab of concrete that lay at her pedes, and everyone automatically took that as a sign to lowered their heads back into their specific tasks.
Her digits quivered ever so slightly, the momentary lapse in her composure going by unnoticed. Except that of the fire truck's.
His suspicious glower persisted the rest of the day.
Quickshadow had been given temporary leave from her work on Maine by none other than the Leader of the Autobots himself.
When she asked why, he'd skilfully dodged the question, labelling the answer as redundant, insisting that she take a well deserved break after having been so diligent in her duties for many consecutive solar cycles.
And in spite of her protests, he'd even taken it upon himself to kindly make transport arrangements.
"–For your return to Griffin Rock."
She started. "Sir?"
"There your true nature no longer needs to be concealed from the public eye and so are permitted to express yourself freely to the local community," he explained, "I thought it the most ideal location, rather than have you randomly wandering about the planet undercover. Quite the opposite of a sabbatical's supposed nature, yes?"
"... Indeed."
It wasn't soon after that the Ausley Benton inadvertently discovered the individual assigned to see her off upon being greeted by the sight of the old rustbucket, waiting at the docks.
"OP mentioned you needed a lift," High Tide barked, disgruntled and visibly none too pleased about having to play chauffeur. "Best get your land-loving self on my vessel before I go into stasis recharge standin' here for another cycle." Not wishing to get into a needless disagreement, she abided.
Despite his initial unpleasantness, Quickshadow soon found that the crusty serviceman actually kept rather good company, once she saw past his curt front. He held the same opinion of her, and naturally so. The both of them were long-serving soldiers, high in rank, well respected amongst their comrades, and highly decorated officers in their own right.
However, unlike that of the still young femme, High Tide was truly a hardened veteran, having been exposed much more to the sheer savagery, the brunt, of the civil war that divided their kind. Not to say that she hadn't; simply that the old drill sergeant's experience substantially overshadowed that of her's. Something she soon came to realise, with his plethora of engrossing stories he had to tell during their trip–of how he had aided in hundreds of thousands of water rescues when the Great War had made its way across to other unsuspecting planets and neighbouring solar systems; when their home of Cybertron had been drained dry of its resources, rendering it obsolete and no longer capable of supporting life.
It was the Great Exodus.
He launched in with such vigor, recounting lost tales with vivid recollection, almost as if it had all happened but a solar cycle ago. But his zeal gradually waned as the cycles passed, his voice descending into almost nothing but a gruff murmur that was barely audible in the occasional gust of wind, carried over the throbbing whitecaps.
"Sea Spray was as fine a sailor as any, an excellent first mate. The rest of the crew, 'specially the youngsters, all took a mighty shine to 'im, and rightfully so. Unmatched in skill, and the size of his spark. Never had I ever met a bot so compassionate… one that I had the great fortune of calling my friend… "
"... 'had'. Past tense. "
"Keen auditory sensors ye got there lass."
High Tide gave a grave nod. "Ay… it was a simple mission: Dive in, fasten underwater charges to the Decepticons' flagship and blast 'em sky high. I'll spare ye the gory details, but long story short: Ole Spray didn't make it, and… t'was all my fault. My stubborn pride got a hold of my common sense; I abandoned my post, went after a rogue 'Con scout like the addlepated twit I was; my entire brigade nearly ended up scrapped, they might as well have been if it weren't for Sea Spray. He… he gave his spark, cleaning up my foolhardy mistake that to this very day, still makes my chassis ache. "
Quickshadow opted to remain silent; though, not so much out of a loss for words at bearing witness to the bot's outlining of his past quandaries, rather, she was deep in her own trove of memories. Ones she thought to have been long discarded from the remotest parts of her databanks, and sealed off in the darkest places of her mind.
She held back the urge to engulf her faceplates in her servos as she felt her helm slowly growing heavier and heavier, her view of the ocean almost teetering before her in a swirl of aqua. There was a warm, tingling sensation and it enveloped the ends of her digits, sending unwanted shivers down her back strut, remnants of a past she'd rather shut out worming their way back into the foremost part of her already failing subconscious.
"Look sharp, lassie! Griffin Rock is just up ahead."
Thankfully, High Tide's bark of an announcement managed to snap the femme out of her reverie. She sighed a breath of relief through her intakes. Finally.
All this sailing out on open water was seriously starting to mess up her systems.
The clear up of the road overshot its estimated duration, as emergencies and troubles of all kinds had the entire team scattered randomly throughout the town. With everyone spread so thin, that single task was drawn out for the rest of the day.
But after everything was all done and dusted, it was safe to say that every single one of them was completely exhausted. Even the Chief himself had trouble keeping his eyes from sliding closed.
Clearly, it was time to hit the hay.
The Burns family trudged wearily to their respective sleeping quarters, leaving the bots to their own preparations for recharge.
Quickshadow wasn't quite ready to turn in for the night just yet, her stabilising servos rooted stubbornly to the ground, positioning herself by the doorway of their resting area.
"Y'know, Cody and I are planning a little stargazing session next week. We'll be mapping out constellations for his astronomy project."
The amicable bulldozer flashed the femme a drowsy smile from where he sat, settled onto his respective berth. A satisfied sigh escaped him.
"–And if you want, you're welcome to join us. It'd be the perfect opportunity for you to get your helm around Earth's Astronomy. After all, nothing beats first hand experience, especially when it comes to learning new things."
She offered him a cordial grin of her own in reply.
"I'm not sure I'll have time for that but… I'll definitely give it a good thinking over, Boulder."
Turning to face him properly, her arms crossed themselves protectively over her chestplate. A cold draught slipped through the Bunker's entrance, brushing chillingly against her metal. She suppressed a shiver. "Thank you kindly for the offer."
With a final beam, he mumbled his brief "goodnights" to the others before finally powering himself down for some much needed stasis. Blades and Chase were quick to follow, though the latter barely had enough energy left to properly complete his own wishes of good slumber to his teammates as he passed out wearily onto his berth. Chase rested silently beside the copter bot on his own one.
Just about ready to make herself scarce, Quickshadow turned to leave.
Finally… now, if I could just recall where–
"'Night."
The female bot glanced towards her left, the gruff send-off that was muttered echoing emptily in the spaciousness of the stasis room. The source revealed itself to be none other than Heatwave, currently preoccupied with the old paperback he had in his servos. Her gaze contorted into one of bemusement.
"Are you not drained, Heatwave?"
The addressed spared a moment to glance up from his read, the words 'Medieval War Tactics' that were imprinted on its cover in frayed leather, now visible. His servos shifted slightly as he readjusted his grip, one of his shoulders quirking up in a half hearted shrug.
"Not really. At least, not as much as these gearheads–" the two took a brief second to glimpse amusedly at the three snoozing Autobots, "–unlike them, I'm pretty accustomed to late hours."
Quickshadow couldn't resist smiling at the undertone of fondness that was carried delicately in his words. "So I see."
"Same can be easily said for you."
The Ausley Benton's spark jumped slightly at the biting tone he had suddenly taken.
She pretended not to notice as she tried to diverge the conversation onto a less… touchy route.
"Well, not necessarily considering I–"
"Don't even try."
The fire truck had already put his reading material aside and risen from his place on his berth as he curtly cut off her attempt at changing the subject.
"That what you call 'small-talk'?"
He ignored her somewhat nonplussed expression, continuing to egg her on.
"After living with a bunch that constantly go behind your back with some hair-brained scheme in mind, you tend to pick up a thing or two." His arms folded resolutely as he closed the distance between them. "So, care to explain where exactly you're headed off to all bright eyed and bushy tailed? At this hour of the night?"
The female bot's demeanour instinctively hardened at his question, a prickling amalgam of discomposure and defensiveness. She stood her ground.
"Firstly, I am hardly bright eyed, nor is my proverbial appendage 'bushy' in the slightest, thank you very much," she quipped, placing a firm servo on his chest plate and nudging him gently back to re-establish her personal space.
"Secondly, I am merely going to escort myself to the Bunker for some light reading of my own. I don't think that such a task warrants any of your current attitude, does it? Now, if you'll excuse me."
She was prepared to move past Heatwave, but almost immediately found her exit obstructed as his large pede stamped itself in front of her own, blocking her path. He held out one of his burly arms in an unyielding barricade.
Her optic brows knitted in aggravation as she returned the severity of his expression.
She had half a mind to take him by a surprise sweep kick.
"Alright, I know brooding when I see it. I should know better about that than anyone else on this rock so don't bother denying it. Been told that I actually do it pretty often, whenever I think no one's looking, not paying attention or minding me, or just whenever I start to think about–"
He choked midway through his sentence. His features softened by the minutest twitches of his faceplates, an unfamiliar sadness engulfing his optics that compelled him to retract his arm. A sickening clench deep down in his solenoids sent a cold wave of recognition coursing through his sparkplugs.
Bollocks. He's seen right through me.
The tense silence that hung between the duo devolved into noise, the air thick with irresolution as both parties locked optics. One pair reflected an uncanny version of the other.
But one's guard was down.
Quickshadow seized her opportunity to slip past his lowered defenses, swiftly side stepping his immense frame to make a beeline for the elevator. She needed to get out of here. Immediately.
"Hey, not so fast!"
Making a break for the elevation platform, she leapt through the garage exit in a dash, and found herself in the centre of the Burns' outdoor basketball pitch, the road that would serve as her escape route but a few steps away. She was almost in the clear.
Unfortunately, in the split second the Ausley Benton took to prepare herself to transform into her vehicular mode, she found her servo being enclosed around the fire truck's much larger one, a solid, trapping handshake that stopped her right in her tracks. Seeking freedom from his clutch before it'd be too late, she shifted her body weight onto her outermost pede in hopes of yanking herself loose, only to realise that the move had been a badly thought out one as she found herself swiftly pulled towards the mech. He'd taken advantage of her offset footing.
"Unhand me at once!"
"Gladly, but not until you stop fighting me! I'm not budging till you do." He tightened his grip in affirmation. He wasn't going to let up any time soon.
Bugger.
Left with no other options she could foresee, Quickshadow acquiesced, albeit with fervent reluctance, and halted in her struggles. Beneath his iron grasp, Heatwave felt her cables release their defiant tension. But he didn't let go just yet. Lifting his helm, his optics peeked out from underneath the brim of his fireman's hat in a steely stare. Quick to catch on that he wasn't quite finished yet, she indignantly tore her gaze away from his, her pride damaged at having been so easily apprehended.
"I've stayed true to my end of the bargain, I think it's time you did the same. Now let go of me this instant," Quickshadow ordered, her view of the court's concrete flooding her vision with a dull grey.
"You're not thinking straight."
"Nonsense, I'm right as rain."
He directed her a dubious look in reply. "'Fraid you're not fooling anyone with that."
The red plated autobot lifted their joined servos to eye level as his counter argument.
"Look me in the optic and tell me you meant for this to happen."
No rebuttal came.
"Exactly. You didn't. You wouldn't. At least, not someone with your instincts."
He paused to finally free his appendage of the female bot's and stepped back. She didn't make a move to flee. Instead, a glare contorted itself onto her normally aloof, reserved countenance.
"I don't know 'bout you, but I think that alone is indication enough that you aren't yourself."
Her barely maintained professionalism was splitting at its seams.
"I refuse to take this."
At this point, the fire truck's limited reserve of patience was more or less running on fumes.
"Quickshadow–" his use of her full name proved effective in drawing her attention, "–I'm trying to help you here."
"I don't require any of your assistance–" Opulent sapphire clashed with flaming amber. "–In fact I never requested it, or anyone's for that matter," she retorted. "Certainly tells one how much someone is begging for their ego to get a good stroking."
A snarl couldn't help but slip through Heatwave's grit dentate at the petty jibe.
"You're acting like a hatchling,"
He stepped closer towards the Austly Benton, who automatically stepped further back, uncomfortable with the proximity with which they were standing, gaze flickering hesitantly away. Regardless, the mech continued.
"What is your damage? There's nothing wrong with being homesick. We all miss Cybertron. We're all still hurting about what's happened to our home, our kind; everyone we loved, cared for, or didn't even know, all lost to–"
"You don't know what you're talking about."
The femme abruptly shot an infuriated lour in the red plated autobot's general direction, still unable to bring herself to look at him straight on. "You don't know anything. You know nothing, of what I have seen," her voice wavered uncharacteristically, "the horrors I've faced and have been forced to commit with these servos… " Her optics narrowed as she held out her arms, staring loathingly into her cold palms before wounding them into trembling fists.
"I especially do not care for your empty platitudes. I've received enough to last me an eon."
Her energy field crackled with unspoken grief, volatile and raw in its essence. There was no point in lying about it; It was unnerving, so much so that it very nearly made Heatwave's own spark shake.
"You have no idea how fortunate you are to have been given the choice... to have had no part of such… senseless destruction. You have no regrets."
Something inside him snapped at her last, carelessly tossed words.
"Don't. You. Dare."
The corners of his lip components curved downwards forebodingly as he regarded Quickshadow with a heated scowl. He pointed an accusing digit towards her, helm tilted in disdain at her barefaced inability to see past her own troubles. The nerve.
"I'd hardlycall failing to rescue innocent lives something to feel even remotely fortunate about."
He lowered his arm, and leaned closer to the femme in a wordless challenge for her to argue otherwise. This time she didn't back away. With her composure finally regained, she met him head on.
His servos clenched, he then pounded one angrily against his chest plate. "We're rescue bots. It's our duty to serve and protect those that can't defend themselves. Saving lives is in our code." His shoulders heaved as an ardent growl resounded from his vocal processors.
"Yet we couldn't even save one, let alone any of our own kind, and when we were needed most... All of them… all those innocents. Almost an entire race, civilisation… Just. Gone."
He could feel his voice on the verge of cracking, and so endeavoured to hide this behind a brief rev of his engines, swiping his digits over his optics in order to quell the burning sensation of solvent threatening to spill.
"We failed – no – I failed, my mission. And to this day, it still haunts me. It still… festers like some primus forsaken virus that just won't leave." His chin dipped low, he rumbled his last words somberly, thick with regret as his arms fell weakly at his sides, all feeling from them lost. "I swore to never let that happen again. Not to Griffin Rock, not to anyone, and not to my family. Not on my watch."
A strained beat passed as he eyed the femme standing before him, a dour expression glazed over his faceplates while hers remained unreadable. Frustratingly unreadable.
"So, don't even think for a nanoclick, that you of all bots, canlecture me about regrets. Ever."
A/N: Thanks so much for reading, and please feel free to leave a review. I would really appreciate some constructive feedback and any thoughts you have on my writing. Until next time!