Author notes: I was trying to do waaay too many things at once in this chapter. My brain demanded a Blurr flashback, all sorts of drama, and my brain couldn't focus while on my trip. Oops. Sorry about how bad this chapter is bound to be.
This thing is getting waaay more complicated than I intended.
By the way, whoever it was at Otakon 2009 who has the plushie Blurr cube.. That was awesome. I was the crazy girl in the street going: "OH MY GOD IT'S THE BLURR CUBE". XD
.. RESPOND TO REVIEW TIME! :D
Little Miss Molly: You have no idea how much your review helped. I was having some trouble delving in to Blurr's psyche; I hadn't considered some of the finer points you pointed out, and it helped the flashback flow so much smoother. :D
Black Dragon Queen: I'm so bad at the JetTwins lingo. I based it on, and this is probably going to sound horrible, but the accents Draenei have in World of Warcraft. I'm on an RP server, and I just sort of.. Borrowed the speaking style my character there has. I'm so sorry. XD;
Lil' Pup: .. MORE detail? .... I'll see what I can do.
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Don't it feel like the wind is always howlin'?
Don't it seem like there's never any light?
Once a day, don't you wanna throw the towel in?
It's easier than putting up a fight!
No one's there when your dreams at night get creepy
No one cares if you grow or if you shrink
No one dries when your eyes get wet and weepy
From the crying you think this place would sink!
-- 'It's The Hard Knock Life', Annie (Musical)
Streamline: Chapter Six
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He should have been offline.
He had thought he had gone offline; the walls had crushed him. That, he recalled distinctly; the deep, incredible pain of having your frame crushed wasn't something he experienced often. When he had returned to the land of online an unknown amount of time later -- his internal systems, glitching as they were, proclaimed an impossible date --, he had been fully repaired and briefly dared to believe it had all been a bizarre dream; perhaps a sensory echo caused by stress.
A slow realization came to pass that he could not move. Dim lighting in the cramped space -- why he was behind a stack of boxes was a momentary curiosity -- revealed his legs wrapped from ankle to thigh in numerous stasis cuffs. One pair atop the other, as if whoever had put them on had been paranoid about two sets breaking off at the same time, and had slapped on every set they had. A final set bound his wrists behind his back.
It wasn't natural not to move; his entire existence had been around speed, around the ability to run and leap and dash faster than most mechs could ever dare to dream. Being unable to do so was an outright sin. So, he twisted and flailed, trying to get free; he only succeeded in knocking over a box.
The loud thud was a cacophony in the silence; several nano-kliks later passed before very loud footsteps sounded off. The bound figure dared to look up, optics wide and frightened.
A single, large crimson optic peered down. The slitted sensory pupil and complete lack of facial equipment gave off a disturbing, terrifying air. "You're awake. Good."
The bound, blue mech openly gaped. "Ohslag."
Quite suddenly, he remembered everything. "WhatamIdoingherewhatdoyouwantwithme?" Decepticons, after all, never took prisoners. Hostages, at times, but he was not a mech of any particular importance and knew no information that the cyclopian Decepticon didn't already know.
Longarm Prime had been his superior officer, after all.
"Tell me, something, Field Agent Blurr.." The Decepticon spy slowly knelt down without ever looking away from his prisoners' face. "..Are you of that generation?"
It wasn't often that the swift mech froze; he did now. It wasn't widely known that the streamlined mech had been created within cycles of the Allspark's decision to change reality; despite needing a small form to better enhance his speed, he had gone through a great deal of effort to hide the fact that he had been sparked three and a half nano-kliks too late.
"..NononoI'mnotsorryyougotthewrongmechbecauseI'mwaaaytooold." Blurr's optics twitched nervously.
Longarm Prime -- Shockwave -- tilted his head ever so slightly to the side. He then reached forward sharply, thick claws grabbing for the thin blue chassis.
"OhslagwhatareyoudoingIallreadysaidI'mnot!" The protests did absolutely nothing; Blurr's shrill yells faded in to whimpers when his spark chamber was roughly pulled open. A couple of the latches holding the metal together snapped and broke apart in the process; the blue mech offlined his optics, shuddering them tight, certain something dreadfully terrible was about to happen.
"Perhaps the sixth time will be the charm.." Shockwave murmured, terrifying the bound mech.
Yet, nothing happened for a full fifteen nano-kliks. Blurr onlined an optic hesitantly, peeking out; Shockwave was no longer there. Although his spark chamber was wide open, nothing had happened. In fact, the Decepticon he had once believed to be his superior officer -- had trusted him with his very life and looked up to, in fact -- had walked away and now stood by a small communication console.
Only now did Blurr realize he was in a small craft of some sort; the specks of shining stars were easily visible outside a small window. His optics onlined and widened fully, stunned; they could be anywhere in space, by now. This wasn't good at all.
"My lord Megatron.." Shockwave's voice caught his attention; the blue mech looked away from the window in alarm, listening closely. "I regret to contact you so soon after the unfortunate news of my incompetence.."
"What is it, Shockwave?" Blurr couldn't see the screen -- Shockwave's body blocked it --, but Megatron did not sound the least bit happy.
"Yes, well, my lord.." Shockwave sputtered, nervous. "I have heard you've been searching for a concubine to bear you an heir for quite some time.." The Decepticon stepped aside to show off the bound mech.
Blurr's jaw dropped at the connotations; the struggles were renewed in a frenzied panic, twisting and struggling in the numerous cuffs.
Megatron blinked once on the screen; then, he smirked. "As amusing as this is, Shockwave, I've already found a suitable bearer for my heir."
Shockwave had clearly not expected this; his single optic blinked once, visibly stunned despite lack of expression, but he quickly bowed to the screen. "O-Of course, my lord. What do you wish me to do with the captured Autobot?"
The Decepticon lord shrugged slightly, indifferent. "I don't care. Do whatever you wish with him. Take him for yourself, if you want. Megatron out."
As the screen shut off; Shockwave simply stood there for several long seconds, staring at the blank screen. He didn't appear to know what to do, recovering slowly from his failed attempt to gain the Decepticon lord's favor.
After some time, Shockwave slowly turned to stare at the bound, frightened mech.
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The wait for Jazz to return had been longer than anticipated; a full ten minutes came and went with absolutely nothing but silence in the sizable medical bay. The ship had been designed for a larger crew and the emptiness of such a large place stifled the two quiet bots. One sat on the edge of a gurney, legs waving in the air and far off the floor; the other was curled up on a chair, hugging his knees to his chest.
Neither said anything for the entire ten minutes. The silence eventually became too much to bear for the blue mech on the chair; he buried his face in his arms, letting out quick, hurried sobs interrupted with random intake hiccups.
"Hey.." The yellow mech on the gurney looked towards the other and frowned, sympathy and empathy clear in his optics. "We don't know yet if there's anything.."
"Itdoesn'tmatterandyouknowit..!" Blurr didn't look up. "Icanfeelhimandyoucanfeelhimandthey'llfindusandit'sallover!"
Bumblebee frowned deeply, staring at his distressed ally; briefly, he wondered when he had begun to consider Blurr a friend. He barely knew him, really. "We.. We don't know, yet. Maybe there's a way to.. To reverse it or something..!"
"Reversesparkbonding?! Areyouserious?!" Blurr looked up briefly, incredulous, but quickly buried his face again.
"I'm trying to be positive, here." Bumblebee couldn't help the slight annoyance that crept in to his tone. "If there's some chance, any chance, frag it all, I'll take it."
Blurr moaned. "Thisshouldn'thavehappened. Thisshouldn'thavehappenedatall!"
"Don't I know it, brother." A deep voice interrupted the two mechs; two sets of bright blue optics looked to the door, quieting at the sight of Jazz. "I'm going to need another scan. The equipment's.. Glitching, or something. It's still going to take some time. Maybe you should call O.P., let your buds know you're here.."
Bumblebee frowned a little, suspicious at the convenient breakdown of machinery, but nodded. "Sure.." He was slightly impressed with himself to find he shook much less than before as he opened his spark chamber.
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Blurr had refused to leave the medical bay -- had refused to leave that chair he had curled up in, in fact --, and Bumblebee hadn't felt the need to prod him up. So, he walked to a spare communications console on his own, shown the way by a quiet and somber set of twins.
It had taken the yellow Autobot a decent cycle to remember that his friends had moved out of the warehouse; he no longer had a direct number to call them on. Unsure how else to contact his friends, he dialed a familiar cellphone number instead.
The phone rang three times. Then, a high-pitched, youthful voice answered. "Hello?"
"Sari?" Bumblebee took in a deep intake; he had missed her voice.
"Bumblebee?! Oh my god, where are you?! The others said you were kidnapped and you've been gone for two weeks and where are you?!"
A small smirk crossed the yellow mech's face. "I missed you, too, Sari. Are the others with you?"
"They went to Russia yesterday! They said they were going to get you!"
This had been expected; Prowl had told him as much. "Do you have a number I can call them on? I don't have my comm.."
"Uh, sure, hold on. Let me get it out of my phone's memory.."
When Sari relayed the string of digits, Bumblebee had found it difficult to hang up; he cared for the small human deeply and had missed her terribly. In the short span of time he had been on Earth, the young organic had somehow managed to get herself in to the position of being the yellow Autobot's best friend.
In the end, Sari had to hang up the line first. Then, the new number was dialed in quickly. This time, the communication line had a camera on the other end; static lined the edges of the screen, the only outward sign that it was a portable communicator.
"Hel -- Bumblebee!"
"Hi, Optimus." Bumblebee smiled slightly, touched by the concern he could see across the static-lined screen. "Listen, the Elite Guard sort of saved my aft. I'm not in that building anymore, don't run in there for nothing!"
"We figured as much when we saw the shattered window."
He had forgotten about that. "Is everyone all right?"
On the other end of the line, Optimus Prime's optics widened in incredulity. "You're asking us that?! Everyone here is undamaged." The Autobot commander paused for a moment. "Do you want us to bring you home?"
Bumblebee visibly winced; with his spark bound, he was practically a walking homing beacon. "I can't.. The slaggers probably don't know where you guys are staying, now.."
"We'll come to you, then. Where are you?"
"..That's actually a really good question. Hey, uh.." Bumblebee turned to look at the twin jets; both had been unusually quiet the entire time. "Where are we, and don't tell me the Elite Guard ship."
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"Who gave clearance for this? I sure as slag didn't give permission for this, and since I'm in charge here, I'd really like to know who the slag gave them permission to come here!" A loud, vividly angry voice rang through the hanger of the Elite Guard craft, echoing off the walls.
"Ah.. Sentinel Prime Sir.." Jetstorm raised his hands in a placating manner. "Brother and I were thinking it would be good idea.."
"Good idea for what?!" Sentinel Prime glared at the two young twins. "I'm in command, here! You have to run these things through me before telling people they can come on this ship!"
"But.. It.." Jetfire sputtered. "It is being Autobot friends and Optimus Prime and his persons.."
"They were in wanting to see if friend is being okay!" Jetstorm had the sense to back up a step.
"Well, they can pick the kid up and take him to their own base for all I care! He's not our responsibility!" Sentinel Prime growled.
"Well, I'm sorry to be an inconvenience." A small growl accompanied the words.
The three Elite Guards turned to see the small yellow mech leaning against a doorframe, crossing his arms and visibly annoyed.
For a long moment, silence reigned; no one knew what to say or how to say it. Emotions were tangled in confusion laced by happenstance; Jetstorm and Jetfire started to edge away, managing to escape the awkward silence, fleeing down a hall. For a long moment, the former drill sergeant stared down his former recruit, receiving a deep, angry glare in return.
"Hey, I'm sorry all this slag happened.." Sentinel Prime broke the silence first. "But I think we'd all be a lot happ --" A loud, shrill beep accompanied by a large, flashing light interrupted the Autobot commander. Both mechs looked over towards the large hanger doors.
The hanger door slid open with a resounding 'clang'; snow swirled and gently fell outside the open doors. Several figures stood in the snow, waiting for the doors to open fully; once they did, one of the larger shapes rushed inside.
"Bumblebee!" Bulkhead called out in delight, practically leaping at the small yellow mech and lifting him in a tight hug. "I was so worried, little buddy!"
"Ack..!" Bumblebee flailed. "Intakes.. Can't..!"
"Oh!" The large green mech dropped his friend in an unceremonious pile on the floor. "I'm so sorry..!"
"I'm okay." Bumblebee stood up slowly with a hand on his large friend's foot, slightly dizzy. He patted Bulkhead's side. "Yeah, buddy, we talked about the hugs of doom, right? Try not to.." He took in a deep, overdramatic intake. "..Woo.. Think I damaged something."
The humorous exchange was so normal and so unexpected that the other four mechs in the room simply watched it happen. Three of the four had small smiles at the heartwarming sight; the calm it portrayed gave off the air that everything might just be all right.
"Kid, how'r you feeling?" Ratchet walked towards the small bot, followed by Prowl and Optimus Prime.
The soft tone Ratchet used wasn't normal for the crass medic; Bumblebee blinked once, but found he understood why they were being overly gentle. Although, he was still bothered by it. "I've had better solar cycles." He looked to Prowl. "I guess you told them?"
Prowl frowned slightly, apologetic. "I had to. I couldn't keep this from them."
"I know." The small yellow mech sighed. "I know, ninja-bot. Wouldn't've been able to keep it secret for long, anyway."
Optimus opened his mouth to speak, but a loud, shrill shriek interrupted him. The cry was nothing short of a deep, agonizing wail of despair; all of those present turned to stare at the hall it came from, stunned.
"..I guess the scan's done." Bumblebee sputtered after several seconds. "Guess Blurr didn't get good news."
"Blurr?" Optimus sputtered. "..The field agent we met..?"
"Same guy." Bumblebee sighed sadly, looking to the floor. "Shockwave got him."
A deep shudder ran through most of the Autobots present; even Sentinel Prime winced at the thought of sharing a berth with the single-opticked Decepticon. Several seconds passed before Jazz hesitantly walked inside from the same hall, holding a datapad in his hands.
"Is Blurr..?" The smallest mech present looked up with sad optics.
"Yeah.." Jazz, for his part, appeared shaken. "'Fraid so. Jetstorm and Jetfire are with him now."
Bumblebee looked up at Jazz to ask further, but was distracted as Ratchet quickly walked right by him and grabbed the datapad out of the Elite Guard's hands. Jazz only blinked in surprise as the medic peered over the information, anger slowly crossing his face.
"Check it again." Ratchet growled.
"I did." Jazz sighed. "Six times."
"Then run another scan!" The medic growled again, voice rising.
"I did." Jazz frowned. "Two different scans on two different computers. All identical. Runnin' a hundred different scans isn't gonna change anything, Ratchet.."
"Is it safe to assume the slag's hit the smelter?" Bumblebee rubbed his face, optics offline. "Seriously, Jazz, both of us?"
"I.." Jazz frowned deeply at the small mech. "I'm afraid so."
"Great. Just, great." Bumblebee sat down hard on the floor, both hands covering his face. Bulkhead rushed over, a large green hand half-hugging his friend.
"Sparklings having sparklings..!" Ratchet snarled, fists clenching. "It's an abomination, is what it is..!"
"Ratchet.." Optimus warned.
"It's not natural!" The medic didn't seem to hear.
"Ratchet!" Optimus called louder.
"Maybe there's a way to abort --"
"Ratchet!" This time, Prowl was the one to call out. "For Primus's sake, shut up!"
"What?" Ratchet stopped in surprise. He turned to look at the rest of the Autobots; Bumblebee shook, still covering his face, huddling in to Bulkhead's side. The medic took in a deep intake, finally cooling from his rant. "..Oh. Oh, Primus.."
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Empty belly life
Rotten smelly life
Full of sorrow life
No tomorrow life
It's the hard knock life for us!
It's the hard knock life for us!
-- 'It's the Hard Knock Life', Annie (Musical)
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Author notes: You aren't surprised by the song choice, are you? ;)