Major, hufe, Godzilla-sized thank you go out to all my wonderful, amazing, dear, beautiful, awe-inspiring readers. The reviews you all left for chapter 9 blew me away! I swear my heart was singing every time I read one of your reviews! I will never be able to convey in words the full force of the gratitude I feel, but I wish you all to know that you have my sincerest thanks! Thank you Elita One, Library Drone SAR, Flameshield, Lil Angel, Daebereth, Jason M. Lee, Bluebird Soaring, Liliwen, theshadowcat, Cassiopeia1979, Bunnylass, Freakish Child, Melora Maxwell, Chloo, and Litahatchee!
Credit for Nightshade the character goes to Violetlight! And I am using her portrayal of Waspinator as a symbiote, too. Big thanks to Violet!
Finally, the chapter that skyrocket's my rating from T to M! Enjoy!
As We Come Together
In Which Reunions are Commemorated
"What do you mean 'they're not there'? Epps if this is some kind of sick joke-,"
"No joke, Sam," Epps sighed, shivering as a cold wind rustled over the snow at his feet, swirling it around his slowly freezing body. The Torngat Mountains were one of the last places on Earth where ancient glaciers still existed, much to Epps and Maggie's utter horror. Snow simply was not their thing, but they happened to be standing in a foot's worth of the white stuff.
Sitting in the wonderfully temperature-regulated command centre of the Autobot Base in the middle of the hot, dry Nevada desert, Sam cursed darkly. "Any idea where they could have gone?"
"It's only guess work right now, but we do have a rough idea where they could be heading," Epps replied.
"That's good, isn't it?" Sam asked, not liking the sombre tone in the tech sergeant's voice. He leaned closer to the transceiver panel of the Cybertronian communications device Ratchet had set up to enable him to speak with Epps.
"Don't bet on it."
"Why? Where do you think they're going?"
"Ironhide reviewed the information they were able to grab from the Canadian military's databanks before they got spooked by the firewall- it was coordinates."
A sick, twisting feeling started to squirm in Sam's stomach. He had to swallow hard before speaking again. "Coordinates to where, exactly?"
"Tracking coordinates to where a small fleet from the US Navy gathered off the east coast a couple of months ago-,"
"You don't mean-?"
"Over the Laurentian Abyss."
"Shit. Are you serious?" Sam's gaze darted over to Optimus, who was speaking with Ironhide in their rapid-fire, mile-a-minute, electronic language of theirs. Judging from the Autobot's stance, he was not happy with what Ironhide was telling him either.
"Oh hell yeah, I am," Epps growled back. "And we can't go after them for a few days, either."
"Why not?"
"Clean up." The words came out as a distasteful growl. "Our 'Con friends left their fair share of a mess behind."
"How bad?"
"Bad." Epps shrugged his jacket closer to himself, and then glanced to Maggie to see how she was fairing. Wrapped tight in a down jacket and a toque pulled low over her ears, she was shivering as discreetly as possible. Her soft grey eyes darted up to meet Epps' dark gaze, and then started when he reached out and dragged her closer to share a little bit of body warmth. She raised her eyebrow and he shrugged in reply; better to remain lukewarm together than freeze apart. He continued his conversation as if neither of them had lost feeling in their outer most extremities. "Might be bad enough to get involved with the government up here; there may be too many deaths to just say it was a bear attack or an avalanche."
Sam winced, drumming his fingers distractedly. While it had been at the behest of Secretary Keller to introduce Optimus Prime and company to the UN in order to make sure the rest of the world's powers didn't think the US was stockpiling walking weapons of mass destruction, there were some who took the news better than others. While Canada had been most accepting of the situation, even proposing to speak with the military in order to form a small sect to have in the know in case their aid was ever needed, other delegates were a little more wary, seeing Optimus's choice to stay and gather his kind in the US as dangerous to them. Sam had been with Bumblebee during the meetings, on the other side of the large, metal warehouse door- but even through the reinforced metal, they could still hear raised voices ringing off the rafters.
"Do we have any other options?" Sam asked warily. He wracked his brain trying to recall everything about the UN discussions, shouted words or otherwise. Was there any way they could call upon another nation's services without having a dozen others declare war? Fighting an alien war was enough; to hell with fighting humans too.
Maggie's gentle accent drifted over the channel, surprising Sam a little. He hadn't known she was so close. "Sam, is Simmons nearby?"
"He's lurking here somewhere."
"Can you go and get him? I think he might be our other option."
Sam groaned. "Does he have to be?"
"As much as we all hate to admit it, Sam, he's the only one of us who knows how to conduct a cover up, and we need one here desperately," Maggie sighed, looking back over her shoulder to the pass in the distance spattered bright, macabre red around the crushed trucks piled there. The bodies there had been crushed, possibly stepped on, and a few looked as if they'd been shredded apart by a very large animal. Their recording equipment had been destroyed.
"Fine, alright, I'll get him. Give me a sec." He hopped away from the panel he was seated at, moving to the nearby on-base comms and expertly turning them on as he'd been taught by Ratchet and ordering Simmons to report to the command center. Not wishing to stick around when the pissy agent reared his head, he'd been getting more and more unmanageable ever since both Will and Epps had left, Sam quickly bid his goodbyes to his slowly freezing friends up North and scrambled down from the station along the ladder built into the side.
As he passed Optimus's foot, he gave the big guy a good pat on the toe. In return, the mech offered a brief nod but continued on with the conversation he was conducting with his weapons specialist.
"This is not good news if what you say turns out to be true," Optimus sighed.
Ironhide grunted, feet sifting through the blackened craters marring the perfect snow. While he couldn't make a positive identification on the large bipedal footprints alone, the set of quadruped tracks leading away from the large depression in the snow, denoting a ship landing, all but screamed the identity of the bot.
"Virus is up here somewhere, Optimus. There's no doubt about it."
The flame-painted mech gave a breezy sigh, sagging a little. "It is certainly not in our best interest to have her on Earth."
"It is not in anyone's best interest to have any Decepticon loose on Earth," Ironhide replied darkly. "And I doubt that fragger would come down here for anyone less than her accomplices Worm and Trojan, so we know of at least three that are lurking on Earth."
"Alone, any one of them could be dangerous, but together…"
"I'm well aware what any one of them is capable of, Prime," the weapons specialist growled, sounding dangerous and far more like the grizzled warrior he was. "I'll bet they're following the coordinates they stole to find Megatron's corpse."
"They're not going to be discreet in their search at all." Optimus's voice carried a pained edged to it.
"They haven't bothered being discreet thus far, so I doubt discretion is on their agenda at all,"Ironhide pointed out gruffly, sending along the video files of the area and the accumulated damages.
"If they are not caught soon, all the work that has been put into covering up our presence on this planet will be undone and who knows the repercussions that will follow," Optimus warned. "We may be able to contact the Canadian government to aid us in keeping the exposure to a bare minimum, but if the Decepticons are allowed to roam free for too long…"
"Don't worry, Optimus. They're not getting away from me that easily,"Ironhide replied. "If they are going for Megatron's remains, the coast they will be flying over is sparsely populated. There's only a low calculated risk of being seen."
"I hope you mean that as a reassurance unto me and not as odds in your favour to engage them in a fight," Optimus said darkly.
"Ah…"
"Never mind. I trust you to use your best judgement if the situation arises. Try to be discreet, but do not allow yourself to become a sitting target."
"I have no intention of becoming anyone's target, nor of letting any of my…"the mech trailed off to stare at the humans not far away, huddled together for warmth, shouting into the enhanced cell phone at whomever they were arguing with, "My team become targets."
"Very well, do as you see fit."
Ironhide's gaze turned to the overcast sky. Deep grey, heavy clouds were gathering thickly overhead. "The weather here seems to be on our side," he noted. "The clouds are at a low enough altitude that, even if they were in a large ship, no one would be able to see a damn thing from the ground. There is also a high possibility of severe storms hitting the area as well, making landing any ship difficult."
"At least that much is on our side. I cannot say much else is at this point." As much as Optimus would have loved to unload a bit of the burden he was carrying onto the steady shoulders of his friend, he knew that Ironhide had his own problems to deal with at the moment. So he stayed silent, absently listening to the goings on in the command centre, Simmons' voice in the background barking about thousands of dollars worth of time and manpower to send a team up to the middle of nowhere. If ever there was as organic that tried Optimus's patience badly enough to forget all life was precious…
Determined not to step on Simmons, Optimus opted to change to subject. "So you say you found where Hound could possibly be hiding?"
"I'm not saying that he is there, but there is the strong possibility that he is taking refuge in the Ganger area,"Ironhide confirmed. "Presumably within range of the dwellings built near the lake."
"I'm surprised you did not investigate further the instant you caught wind of him hiding there."
"I saw energon spattered in one of the yards of the humans we questioned, but it wasn't enough to be fatal," Ironhide replied. "It's only been an orn since he crashed, and I doubt he'd be hiding half as well as he is if he was severely injured. Tracking the Decepticons down and getting them under control before something more public happens is more important at the moment. I have no doubt Hound will be fine for another orn."
"That's incredibly perceptive of you, Ironhide," Optimus chuckled.
"That's not all, Prime,"the old mech snorted. "I have the sneaking suspicion that Hound isn't alone in all this. He may have made an ally for himself out of one of the humans in the area."
"Oh? What makes you say that?"
"Because Chase Banes is either a pathological liar or she had something very big to hide when we questioned her."
"Banes? Well, that certainly does make things more interesting…" Optimus replied shrewdly, suddenly catching Mikaela and Sam's voices drawing near as Simmons' barking came to an all time high. He watched as the two teenagers rushed in and darted up the ladder, running for Simmons. Sam easily took the lead, outpacing his girlfriend with surprising speed and, showing more initiative than normal, cut Simmons' ranting off with a good shove.
Mikaela wormed her way in as the two males squared off, saying something quick and quiet to Epps and Maggie before closing the communications channel and turning to help Sam fend off the wrath of Reginald Simmons.
"Keep me informed of any new developments, Ironhide. Stay in the area with Epps and Maggie to waylay any other humans who might wander into the valley until the team Simmons sends up arrives. For now, I believe I'm needed elsewhere before someone ends up in the med bay-"
"Optimus?"
There was a certain smile in Optimus' voice when he spoke next. "In the absence of both William Lennox and Robert Epps, it seems Sam has been attempting to fill their roles both in duty and in keeping Simmons in line."
"Quite the task," Ironhide conceded.
"He has been doing surprisingly well," Optimus informed. "I believe our presence may have facilitated him to mature a little faster than he may have done otherwise."
"War has a way of doing that," the weapons specialist replied sagely.
"I am simply surprised that Sam has risen to the occasion so profoundly," Optimus confided. So much like a yellow minibot he knew…
"The youngling deserves more credit than he's given," Ironhide laughed gruffly. After what Sam had done for them, protecting the Allspark, destroying Megatron, he was one of the few organics that had Ironhide's hard earned respect, not to mention the respect of many others, robotic or otherwise, on base. Sam being Sam, he still remained a little clueless to the idea of him being a hero- he reserved that right for the towering gun-toting alien robots or the hardened human soliders around him.
"You will hear no argument from me, my friend, but there are some here," he paused to allow agent Simmons' voice to drift through the comm., "who would most abhorrently object."
Ironhide huffed a curse, grumbling foully. He bid his goodbyes to Optimus, receiving his Commander's parting words with a grunt, and then the channel closed. Hoping that interceding between an alien species' own internal conflicts would not affect him in the long run, Optimus quickly reached out to place his large hand between the teens and the agent, successfully cutting them off from each other.
"Enough." The order reverberated in the air, enough to cease the humans' squabbles. Optimus's gaze landed on Simmons first. "Agent Simmons, your services here are no longer needed. If you would please leave the command center and find something else to occupy your time, it would be much appreciated."
Looking as if a nasty retort was on the tip of his tongue, Optimus's gaze narrowed and the agent relented. "Fine, I'm going." He marched out, but not without Optimus's sharp audio receptors catching darkly muttered words- "ridiculous…playing favourites…" He disappeared down the ladder and out the door, allowing the remaining three in the command center to breath a sigh of relief. Optimus let his arm drop back to his side.
Sam huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Prick." He tipped his head to look up at the towering Autobot looming above him. "You know, Optimus, if you ever wanted to step on that guy, you got yourself an alibi."
Chuckling, Optimus nodded. "I will keep that in mind."
He paused to consider the pair of young humans staring up at him, their eyes squinted slightly as they tipped their heads back to stare into his faceplate. Their expressions were open, unguarded, the fear and awe that had haunted their features for the first few weeks after being introduced to an alien species and the intergalactic war that followed now eased into a level of semi-comfort and vague understanding. Even the human personnel on base had slowly stopped staring and edging around when they saw an Autobot coming through, which made it infinitely easier when anyone was trying to get work done. Only four short Earth months had passed since this strange, organic planet had been introduced to a world beyond their own and already they were adjusting quite nicely; it gave Optimus hope that he might have actually found a new home for him and his people.
Unaware of Optimus's internal musings, Sam laughed and shifted himself about so that he would have an easier time talking with Optimus; despite how much closer their heights were standing on the alien console, Sam was still tiny compared to the massive mech.
"You know what else you could keep in mind; how to get rid of him. He's getting harder and harder to deal with everyday," Sam said, nodding his head in the direction that Simmons left in. "I swear, one of these days, if you don't step on him first…"
Optimus allowed a gentle smile to play at his mouthplates, amused by Sam's awkward attempts to seem older than he was. He was not quite a human adult yet, but one could hardly consider him a youngling any longer. The precarious balance reminded the Commander too much of Bumblebee again.
"Something tells me we will have to keep a closer eye on Agent Simmons in the future," Optimus sighed.
Sam's smiling face faded a fraction. "Yeah, he hasn't exactly been making any friends around here," he conceded. "Will had to move him and a number of the other S7 guys to a separate part of the barracks because they kept stirring things up." The lights overhead caught his face, deepening the shadows beneath the young man's eyes; a testament to the peace treaty he'd been attempting to facilitate between the two warring human factions within the week and half he'd been "camping" on base. Regardless, Sam's charming smile remained firmly in place, his arm quite happily draped around Mikaela's waist.
"I hope you are not overtaxing yourself," Optimus voiced, his mouthplates quirking slightly.
Sam saw the small smile and it heartened him. "Nah, I'm fine," he assured with a dismissive wave. "It's been… interesting, you know, playing mediator and all."
"I will take your word for it," Optimus replied. He glanced to Mikaela to engage her in the conversation as well. Contrasting Sam's surprising case of adultness, Mikaela was looking a little pale beneath her warm tan, her normally beautiful face appearing drawn. Microscopic traces of tension quivered in the muscles of her face, something only Optimus's sensitive optics could pick up, and the reason for the distress piqued his curiosity.
"Is something the matter, Mikaela?"
She shook her head, forcing a smile. "It's nothing," she replied a little too quickly, and then amended herself, "Well… nothing that would interest you, anyways..." Optimus noted the way Sam's hand tightened fractionally.
"Please, indulge me," the mech invited.
"Well…" She gave him a measuring look, trying to decide if it was right to unload her concerns on the mech's shoulders or if telling Sam had been enough. In the end, Optimus's patient gaze won out. "My aunt just called on my cell a couple of minutes ago," she began, her gaze dropping a little. "She's about half way home, but she sounded a little strange… more irritable than usual, I guess. I wouldn't think she'd be stupid enough to drink and drive or anything, but how she's been lately, I just don't know…" Mikaela's body leaned into the comfort of Sam's slightly taller frame, seemingly embarrassed comparing her tiny problems to Optimus's obviously bigger problems. "I'd feel better if I was home to wait for her, just to make sure she makes it home at all."
Optimus nodded, finding that, opposed to Mikaela's opinion that he wouldn't be interested, the news that Chase Banes was now on her way home was of the utmost interest to him. She was, after all, either a pathological liar or an unwitting ally.
Sam nodded along. "Yeah, my folks want me home too- school's going to start in two days and I've done nothing to get ready. Mom hasn't said anything when she calls, but I can hear her teeth grating together every time she talks." He shrugged a carefree shrug, smiling with a dopey smile. "No place like home and all that."
"Very well, Bumblebee will escort you home." He hesitated before saying anything more, but it was too much of a coincidence that Mikaela's aunt was returning so soon after Ironhide and company paid her a visit. He would have to inform Ironhide of the possibility that Hound may not be in the area any longer, but in the meantime, "Mikaela, I would advise you to keep aware of your aunt's movements for now-,"
Her face immediately paled further, taking on a sickly quality. "Oh God, has something happened?"
"No, I doubt something has happened to her in the span of time you last spoke to her until now-," just in case, he scanned the air waves, finding nothing.
"Then- do you mean she might be in some sort of danger?" The drawn look on Mikaela's face intensified. While Optimus knew very little of human family dynamics, he did know that some things were universal, such as concern for someone you cared about.
"No, nothing we can draw direct conclusions from, not at the moment," Optimus replied calmly. "I am only suggesting that you keep your eyes and ears open for anything unusual just in case."
"Right…" Mikaela seemed a little more ill at ease than before but refrained from asking more. Her body leaned a little more heavily against Sam's. "Sure, no problem, I'll keep an eye open. It's not like she goes far anyways; work, bar, shed, couch, that's pretty much her schedule."
"I'll help keep an eye on her, too," Sam offered. "You know, stay over a few nights and all." He winked to Mikaela, who had the decency to smile a little.
Disregarding the increased pheromone levels his sensors were picking up, Optimus connected with Bumblebee and alerted him to meet his charges in his quarters, to escort them home when they were ready.
Horrible, awful, stubborn, sparkless aft!
For the hundredth time, Nightshade paced the Darksyde on the near verge of a panic attack. She'd spent mindless joors attempting to repair the dilapidated ship, but the endeavour had been entirely fruitless. The ship had been a scrap heap before the fight; now it wasn't even worth the energy it took to turn on a welding torch. If the fragging thing fell apart, so be it.
Worst of all, her attempt at repairs had done nothing to take her mind off of what had been taken from her: Waspinator.
At the thought, Nightshade hissed, spinning to slam her fist into the nearby wall.
It'd only been an orn since they'd jumped ship, but it'd been a long orn. Not even a single message, a tiny note, to let her know if they even made it to the surface okay! Complete and utter silence! And that wasn't even the worst part! Oh no, she was used to radio silence, trained for it even! No, the worst part was the fact that her mentor had taken off with that other femme AND had taken Waspinator with them! Her Waspinator! The little symbiote that had been gifted to her by Soundwave himself after vorns of loyal service to him!
Soundwave, better than anyone, should know how painful it was to sever a contract with a symbiote! How dare he do that to her! That two-faced, hypocritical, backstabbing-!
"Fragger!"
Now all she could do was seethe angrily, alone on the broken Darksyde, pacing the ship endlessly with nothing else to do but wait for someone to damn well try and contact her. Just like every other time they left her to her own devices on the Darksyde. Every time a deal went down off ship, she was left behind to play the part of a Primus-damned sparkling-sitter for the heap of rusted junk! It was a ridiculous game, pretending that she was still a helpless young bot barely formatted into her adult frame; the orn had long since passed when she could have graduated from Soundwave's tutelage. She was easily as formidable as he was; the only reason she stayed and continued the charade was loyalty! Yet her master and the crew of the Darksyde treated her as if she couldn't take care of herself out in the big bad universe!
"-Treat me like a youngling! Taking Waspinator away like that! Frag it all!"
She refused to acknowledge the fact that she was undeniably acting like a youngling at present.
Her claws sliced through the dull plating of the corridor as she marched along, dragging her hand along, ripping a wide seam in the metal.
She damn well hoped Soundwave and Flamewar found who they were looking for soon before she tore the ship apart waiting for them!
Everything about the ominously circling SR-71 Blackbird above Tranquility radiated danger.
It circled like a vulture; like death. It was watching, waiting…
Far below, streaking along the paved roads of the organic planet, was a growling black shadow, low to the ground, sleek as a panther, and ten times more dangerous. The Blackbird high above traced the curving, lightning quick path of the car as it raced through the streets, keeping pace before shuttling ahead and then falling back once more to always stay close, to always be near for when the car below found what they were looking for. They kept their dance through the hours of the approaching dusk, and then well into the night, circling Tranquility several times; mapping it, memorizing it.
The hour grew so late that only few humans were left milling the streets. Those who were up were ignorant to the dangers they faced as they whistled and howled as the expensive, once-in-a-life-time, embodiment of automotive beauty zoomed by. There was no comprehension dawning in any of their tiny, organic brains that they were only a curb away from death incarnate.
It was too dark to notice that the black Pagani Zonda F that just screeched by was driverless.
It was gone too fast to see the Decepticon decal glinting malignantly on the spoiler.
They never even dreamed to glance up at the silent gliding watcher above, ominous as a storm cloud but carrying far more deadly ammunition than just rain and thunder.
Too bad taking a picture of the odd pair, the Pagani and the Blackbird, were virtually impossible. Not when a blanket of electromagnetic interference settled so suddenly over sleepy Tranquility, strangely radiating out from the sleek, gliding jet, rendering all electrical devices in the town utterly useless.
For the residents of Tranquility, it was an inconvenience they brushed off as yahoos at the electrical plant screwing with maintenance procedures, even though everything else electromagnetic and yet not dependant on a wall source was also mysteriously out. That ruffled a few feathers, causing a due stir amongst the humans who were not sleepy enough to be in bed or content enough with the doldrums of their quiet lives to not care otherwise. Some in Tranquility, alert and more curious than anything, found the mystery intriguing.
One human, in particular, took this strange occurrence as a sign…
Tossing his dead cell phone aside, giving into the fact that trying to text someone was out of the question, he scrambled out of his dim room, lit by only the yellowed light from the streetlights. A huge dog barrelled up the hallway, round eyes catching in brief lifts of light, but the human swerved expertly, avoiding potentially being crushed to death underneath the drooling monster. With a swift tug to the pull that dangled a short ways from the ceiling, a ladder crashed down from the attic above, leading into the cavern-like expanse above. He fumbled through the blackness until he made it to a hatch on the other side that opened onto the roof. Forcing the reluctant lock to yield and throwing open the sacred passage to his sky-watching nerd-roost, the human spilled out onto the narrow way and flailed for his telescope- thankfully the one device in his entire house that still worked.
Swinging it to the sky, he searched for God only knew what; bright lights? Flying saucers? A huge neon sign announcing "WE COME IN PEACE"?
Even with the sky so dim, the silvery light of the quarter moon cast a bright enough glow to illuminate the night in a limited fashion. A few clouds helped to bounce the light, casting the fluffy white nimbuses into arrays of silvers and whites that lit the sky.
Out on the street, a snarling growl overtook the night as a car that screamed sex, drugs and rock'n'roll came careening around the corner. In a flash of headlights, it screeched up the short road, swinging around the far corner and then was gone. Breath stolen a little by the sudden appearance and disappearance of the Pagani, the human stared dumbfounded at the road a little too long. When it finally came back to him what he was doing, he spun back to the sky and placed his eye to the eyepiece, gasping as he caught sight of a sleek black object in the sky.
"This is it! This is it!" He muttered excitedly as he adjusted the focus on his beloved telescope, zeroing in on the evidence of alien life that was so blatantly gliding along in the sky above. First blurry. Far away. Now closer. Sharper. Details became diamond edged, the black form razor-tipped against the softness of the silver clouds around it.
"Aw, damn." A sigh of ultimate disappointment; it was only an SR-71 Blackbird. No alien.
The human's vast knowledge of the American government and military, thus allowing him the greatest understanding of all possible cover-ups committed within the last hundred years, told him that, while seeing a Blackbird over a civilian town was truly a strange occurrence worth noting, the actual jet itself was not what he'd been looking for. It had Earth stamped all over it. Nothing extraterrestrial about it.
Feeling thwarted by some greater power in the universe, Miles dropped his hands from his precious telescope and climbed back into the attic.
Maybe another night would bring him an alien…
Little did he know; he'd just seen two.
"I don't like this, Frenzy. This blackout is completely unnatural," Barricade growled quietly, hunkering down securely in his parking spot in the Tranquility precinct parking lot. He and Frenzy had been biding their time there, keeping up all the appearances of a cruiser whose keys had been lost and no one was able to open. While it mystified the local meat-sacks that the Saleen seemingly had shown up out of nowhere and resisted all attempts to open its damn doors, they allowed it to stay in its chosen parking spot until they came up with a plan to deal with it. Those who did kick up a fuss over its presence mysteriously found their tires slashed shortly afterward.
"Badbadbad." Frenzy chattered warily from his compartment hidden within Barricade. "Ffffield blocking allallall sensors."
"It's almost like a dampening field, but I doubt any of the Autobots would dare be that blatant. They're too cautious about their alliance with the meat-sacks to be so overt," Barricade reasoned darkly. "Besides, they have no reason to incite an incident like this; we have remained…neutral-," he used the word as if it were saying something disgusting, "-since Megatron fell. We haven't given them reason to attack."
"Hhhuman enenengineered then?"
Barricade barked a harsh laugh, not worried about any human hearing either Frenzy' chattering voice or his own; the carbon monkeys' hearing was too pathetic to be able to pick up the frequencies they were speaking at. "I doubt a field of this calibre could be created by any creature on this mudball. All my sensors are out, not just the primates' scrap. It's definitely Decepticon."
"Yyyou want mememe to traccce it?"
"If you can."
"Nononono problem."
While countless vorns had passed since their contract with each other had been formed, Barricade still had issues with the way he could feel the little silver parasite squirming inside him. It was possibly one of the most disturbing, disconcerting sensations he would ever experience.
A scream of tires down the road broke the Saleen out of his discontent musings, causing Frenzy to pause in tracing the dampening pulse. Something sleek and low to the ground blurred up the street, passing by the wire fence that Barricade sat behind like a growling shadow, whipping up a stinging wind as it passed; a bright flash lit the night aflame for an instant, and then suddenly the fence was gone. The Pagani eased itself up over the curb and glided into the parking lot like an oil slick, heading straight for them.
Tttttttrouble." Frenzy hissed, preparing himself for a fight.
Barricade rumbled darkly. "Don't break cover unless they attack first." He was loath to the idea of ruining a perfectly good cover by engaging in combat, but if it came to that extreme, then he'd face the unknown Decepticon with deadly force.
With the dampening field still active over the area, there was no way the Barricade could identify the Pagani, his spark resonance scanners rendered useless for the occasion. The encroaching car kept its creeping pace nonetheless, possessing all the danger of a panther stalking its prey. Barricade growled deeply, darkly, urging the unnamed 'Con to keep his distance; hidden within his compartment, Frenzy hissed frenetically, scrambling this way and that.
The Pangani's trunk suddenly popped open and whatever it contained filled the night with an odd buzzing sound. Glinting lightly in the honeyed lights of the streetlamps, a wasp-like microbot rose into the air and circled once around its master. In a slow, careful loop, it made its way to Barricade, making sure to keep a healthy distance between them as it flew a single circuit around him.
Dipping a little too close for comfort, Barricade tensed as the symbiote hovered just inches before his hood, clusters of optics dancing to readjust and examine him. With a whistle and a chirp, the creature completed its designated task, looping around in the air and gliding back to the trunk of the car. Whoever the Pangani was, it appeared pleased with whatever information had been gleaned from the encounter. A low, revving purr humming through the night. The car inched closer still, leaving barely a breath of air between them.
"Identify yourself," Barricade commanded darkly. He was met by strict silence. Nevertheless, there was the distinct feeling of amusement radiating from this sleek personification of shadow and danger. A sigh whispered through the dark night as brakes engaged softly, drawing the car to a slow, inching halt, allowing the breath of space between their bumpers to close. Metal brushed metal. An electric shock ran through the Saleen, the connection allowing him to feel out the resonance from the stranger's spark.
Instant awareness hit him.
Flamewar.
She knew the instant he knew. Her engine purred lowly, challenging him. Inviting him. And then her wheels screamed as she reversed and shot away like a streak of dark lightning.
Her message was clear: Catch me if you can.
It was a challenge Barricade couldn't refuse. Throwing all care and caution to the wind, damning his own refuge to fend for itself while he sped after the femme, Barricade unleashed himself onto the roads as a blur of black and white.
"FlameFlameFlamewar?" The sudden question reminded him that Frenzy was still there, aware of his sudden wild thoughts and actions, but not of the reasons behind them.
"She is a femme I consorted with back on Kaon. We were… close." Barricade explained, feeling unnaturally generous to the parasite. Perhaps it was Flamewar's presence that was allowing him to be so civil.
A chattering laugh vibrated through Frenzy's carrying hold. "Closecloseclose," he mimicked.
Despite the erratic nature of his memories due to the energy surge when he reformatted, Frenzy remembered Flamewar somewhat Strong; dangerous; she was a force to be reckoned with. In the many vorns the symbiote had spent absently drifting through Barricade's memory files, mostly when the other mech was in recharge and completely unaware, he'd learned some very intimate details regarding his partner's relationship with the Femme Commander.
Growling dangerously in reply to the symbiote's uncontrolled laughter, Barricade took a corner at twice the recommended speeds, making sure to hit the curb hard enough to jolt the little pest into silence. Satisfied the bug would stay silent long enough to allow him to focus on the chase, Barricade floored his accelerator, screaming towards the oil-slick of a car ahead.
A sharp laugh cut the air like the crack from a gun. Flamewar revved even louder, taillights blazing hot trails through the darkness as she swerved onto another street, carrying the chase further into the heart of Tranquility. Above them, the clouds burst apart as the haunting shadow of a jet swooped low over the buildings as if to take a closer look at what was happening. For a split astrosecond, the dampening field lifted, allowing Barricade to identify the second Decepticon as Soundwave. With Flamewar's transmitted assurances that she was keeping Barricade close on her tail and she wasn't going to lose him, Soundwave activated the field again and rose back into the inky velvet of the sky.
"Flamewar!" Barricade called, baritone voice reverberating off the buildings. Still the femme did not reply. "Flamewar, I know it's you! Answer me, fraggit!"
Like a ghost, she picked up her speed and disappeared down the next road. Her mastery of the art of evasion must have greatly improved since last they met; it had never been this hard to catch her before. But the more she ran, the more he gave chase, feeling the ephemeral tug between their two beings as if it were an actual force compelling them to play this game. Some invisible power was throbbing between them, making them more aware of the other than they'd ever been before.
The wild, uncontrolled pulse of his spark made his entire frame feel light, unreal. As the wind screamed by, Flamewar's tail in his sights, Barricade had to question himself if this was real. How many times since the infinity ago when he left Cybertron had he dreamt of returning? Could he even count the number of times he'd looked out at the stars in hopes that she was still among them, waiting for him? Was it too much to hope that her spark still belonged to him?
He had to make sure this wasn't some cruel torment his processor was punishing him with. Growling like a caged beast, he pushed himself to be even with Flamewar's screaming pace, doors barely an inch apart. One wrong move and they'd both be in the scrap heap.
"Is it really you?" he rumbled.
"Catch me and you'll find out," she replied, her voice low and luscious. By the sound of her voice alone, a hot surge flooded through Barricade's frame. Coolant boiled under the instant thrill that sizzled through him. He didn't need to catch her to know the car he was chasing was Flamewar, but that didn't mean he was going to let her go. On the contrary, when he did catch her, there was a good chance he'd never let her go again.
Soundwave broke through the clouds once more, dropping to glide low over the buildings. He hung a sharp right over them, Flamewar copying his movement so that she suddenly swung onto a side road. The jet rocketed up and disappeared again.
Barricade began to get the distinct feeling he was being herded somewhere.
"Ssssoundwave?"
"It seems my femme is in league with your old master."
Notnotnot good?"
"Hard to say. It's good if they plan to get us off this fragging planet; it's bad if they're just finding a private place to kill us."
"We fffight?"
Barricade growled as he fishtailed into a narrow way, throwing up a flurry of garbage and littered fliers. "It'd be two against one and a quarter; you do the math."
Frenzy hissed, wracking his processor for anything that may help them in case of a fight. His memories of Soundwave were clearer than the others, but still hard to judge. There was no emotional resonance with them that would allow him to judge whether or not they'd be safe if Soundwave and Flamewar decided to corner them somewhere.
He remembered Soundwave as his original Creator. He was brought online as a pre-programmed mech to serve as an assistant aboard the communications hub Soundwave worked on; he knew that before the war broke out, Megatron had approached Soundwave with an offer of rank and power, one in which Soundwave refused at first, but later accepted after hearing the pleas from his Creations. Frenzy was also aware of the contract of symbiosis Soundwave proposed to all his Creations in order to keep them safe and close. They'd all accepted. But…thanks to the contract that Frenzy now held with Barricade, the attachment he once had for his master and fellow symbiotes was null and void; he could remember what he once felt for them, and they for him, but he could no longer summon those feelings.
Lacking as he was in that department, it was making calculating the risk of death compared to the mechs dealing it out a little difficult.
Up ahead, Flamewar's taillights disappeared once more, swerving into the shadowed cavern of an old parking lot. Barricade noted with much amusement that it was the place he'd first encountered the human Samuel Witwicky. He swung in after the femme, fully intending to demand answers for her sudden appearance on Earth. Upon sinking into the relative darkness and encompassing silence, the unexpected tension that suddenly electrified the air had the Saleen slowing to a tentative halt.
Flamewar spun around at the far end of the dark complex so they faced each other on opposite ends, idling quietly. Her trunk popped open again and Waspinator flew free, buzzing away to fetch the Blackbird circling silently above. Moments later, the sky rumbled, and then the familiar sounds of transformation drifted through the night. Two large metal feet touched down on the pavement next to the covered parking lot, the towering frame kneeling to peer inside. The unrelenting gaze shifted from Flamewar to Barricade, but the cruiser was given the distinct impression that he was not being stared at, but rather stared through.
"Flamewar?" Soundwave asked tentatively, prompting her.
A cool laugh shimmered in the shadows. "They're both there, Barricade and Frenzy."
Soundwave stared a little longer, reading the other mechs as if they were open books. "Confirmed: Barricade and Frenzy."
Panels on the mech's back shifted and several metal shapes slithered from him, shifting unsurely. Rumble was the first to gather enough courage and lope forward, circling Barricade with narrowed optics. He looked a little worse for wear, a slight kink in his gait, but nevertheless he was still the Rumble he'd always been. Without prompting, Frenzy crawled out of his hold and skittered out of the cab, on to the roof. He sat watching as the other symbiotes gathered.
Laserbeak, Buzzsaw, and Ratbat swooped carefully overhead, just out of reach for the small mech.
"Frenzy?" Laserbeak asked quietly.
The silver mech did not answer, although his head did incline slightly in acknowledgement. He knew these bots, but he felt distant from them. Separated. A consequence of being partnered with Barricade.
Ravage appeared next to Barricade's door, close but not touching. "Time to come home," he said, his deep voice purring dully in the dark.
"Hhhhhome?" The word sounded foreign to him.
Soundwave's burning gaze shifted from Frenzy to Barricade, pinning him to the pavement. "Release him from his contract," he ordered.
"No problem," Barricade growled, more than happy to do away with the source of most of his frustrations in the universe. Symbiotic contract bonds were easily forged; one sought out the resonance of the chosen partner's spark and imprints it on to their own spark, almost like sparkbonding, but not so intimate or permanent. Breaking them could be considered just as easy, all it took was a simple deletion of the resonance memory from the spark and all concerning programs, but, depending on time partnered and emotional attachment, breaking the contract could always smart a little. In Barricade's case, a twinge in his spark shook him briefly.
Flamewar purred deliciously, creeping forward minutely, drawn to her now free mech. She held back, though, allowing Soundwave his time. She knew he would back off soon enough, giving her an all access pass to the mech she desired most. She just had to bid her time until then.
Soundwave's large hand suddenly appeared out of the night, dipping into the low expanse of the parking lot. "Come," he ordered. His symbiotes did not hesitate to comply, turning and trotting obediently to their Creator's hand. Frenzy, on the other hand, paused, looking back and forth between Barricade and Soundwave. It had been so long since he's been a free mech, bound to no one and nothing. The overwhelming sensation was wild and freeing and strange. Without Barricade in his processor anymore, his thoughts cleared ever so slightly. He could think in a relatively linear way.
"I-," Frenzy hesitated once more, sliding from Barricade's roof to the ground, his optics swivelling from one mech to the other. One was urging him to go, the other urging him to come, and part of him wished to comply to either command, but a nagging, niggling piece of his spark screamed "freedom!" It'd been so long since he'd been his own mech.
Carefully, cautiously, he trotted over to his ex-master, undaunted by the new, huge frame Soundwave sported. The quicksilver mech reached up and touched his hand to the cool metal of the side of Soundwave's giant palm. "IIII am ffffree," he said slowly, twisting his head back to look into Soundwave's unfathomable, visor-obscured optics.
"Yes." The word was simply a statement, no emotional connotation whatsoever. He was waiting for Frenzy's decision.
"Llllllet mememe be freeeee a little longer."
Soundwave's hand curled closed and pulled back slowly. His faceplate revealed nothing of what he was feeling. He was careful enough to not let his other symbiotes catch wind of what he was feeling. With his features schooled into their usual blank slate, the Communication Officer nodded and eased back.
"Ssssssoundwave?"
"Very well," the mech replied after a long, hard silence. "You may have your freedom." It was obvious he wanted to say more, but resisted.
Flamewar's engine sputtered quietly. "But you've come all this way-!" she objected.
"It is what he wants," Soundwave said, cutting her off. "I will not impress upon him something he does not want."
"Soundwave-!" Rumble began, but was quickly silenced with a quick swipe from Ravage.
"It's his choice," the quadruped growled.
Soundwave sighed expansively, nodding to Flamewar; it was her turn now with her mech. "I will remain near to maintain the dampening field, but its perimeters will be narrowed to draw less attention," he informed. "Try to keep within the field for the duration of your… reunion."
Flamewar's headlights flickered then flared. "Of course," she acquiesced.
Slowly, Soundwave straightened and backed away from the low compound, moving away only a step or two, which was the most he could manage before walking into a nearby building. Quietly, his Creations followed, even Frenzy after a soft prod in the back by Ravage, leaving Barricade alone with Flamewar.
They idled on their wheels for a long time, simply staring at each other. Flamewar desperately wished that Soundwave could drop the field, if even for a single second, so she could simply scan Barricade's spark resonance again; her wishes mirrored by Barricade himself. They wished to feel each other's spark; make sure, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that who they were looking at was who they appeared to be and not some cruel figment. Flamewar was the first to make a move, her frame suddenly splitting apart and shifting as she transformed. Barricade followed suit quickly after, not willing to miss a moment.
Barricade's heated optics raked over her new frame, taking in her increased height that put her even with him, the sharp needle points the armor seemed to be drawn into, the liquid flame quality to her already beautiful optics, and the shimmering blackness of the paint she sported.
"You reformatted," he said matter-of-factly.
A sly grin stretched her mouthplates. "Yes. Do you like it?"
"It's…" he could find no words to describe the perfection of the killing machine his femme inhabited. He would have to settle for telling her it was, "perfect."
She slinked forward, the true embodiment of shadow and danger. Her optics were fevered and hungry as they devoured the sight of Barricade, her mech, her one desire, standing there as real as anything. Her spark pulsed wildly in her chassis, thrumming hotly against the inside of her armor, crying out desperately for the black-and-white mech that stood not even an arm's length away. The world around them faded a little, leaving them as the only two beings left in the universe. There was no damn mudball planet overpopulated with organic nuisances, no dead Megatron, no destroyed Allspark, no Communications Officer and his symbiotes sitting only a street away, able to hear every whispered word that left their vocal processors. Just them.
"I missed you." The words fell from Flamewar before she could check herself.
Something softened in Barricade's hungry optics. "I missed you more." He reached out with both hands and took her arms into his grasp, drawing her close enough to place his forehead to hers. The simple contact had them both groaning, sagging into each other in pure relief, drinking each other in. To be close again; to be able to touch each other and say it wasn't just cruel torture of wishful thinking… The longer they pressed together, the more they desired further contact.
Flamewar's hands came up, grasping the side's of Barricade's faceplate and tugging him so that they were forehead to forehead, olfactory sensor to olfactory sensor, chin to chin, the rest of their frames moulding to fit together intimately. Her sharp fingers trailed down, playing with sensitive cables hidden beneath her mech's armor in his neck. A shiver traveled through her as a hiss blew from Barricade, his hands clenching tighter at her arms.
"I want you," Barricade managed to growl out, his lust-deepened voice vibrating deliciously between them.
Flamewar hummed sensuously, fingers still playing with sensitive cables. "I want you more."
Hot blue ribbons of electricity sizzled between their armor over their sparks. Flamewar clutched Barricade closer, hungering for more, her mech complying with more force than what was necessary. He grabbed her tightly and swung them so that her back slammed again a concrete wall, cracking it, mashing their frames so close that electricity erupted between every point of contact.
The femme's head tossed back, crying out as the shock of pure ecstasy overtook her. Never had she felt anything like that from pure physical contact alone. "You- you've certainly gotten stronger," she groaned, wriggling against her mech's unrelenting frame.
"I needed to get stronger," he replied, letting his claws slip from her arms to circle around her back, running over the tips of the spikes adorning her frame, tracing them down into the live wires hidden beneath the surface. He remembered in vivid detail what their last conversation had been; it still brought a sharp pang to his spark. "I hope I didn't make you wait too long."
"I would have waited forever for you."
Those whispered words sparked a hot flame within him, increasing the wild pulse of his spark until it became nothing but a steady hum. He was hot; alive; consumed with the wild, hungering feeling of desire and possession. And he could tell with no short amount of satisfaction that Flamewar felt the same thing. Her grasping claws and desperate keening made it clear what she desired, her blazing optics locked on him alone.
Something was brewing between them; something strong and potent, causing their frames to heat up, to whirr and hum and come to life in a way they never felt before, their sparks crying out for something they couldn't name, a desire they couldn't put into words.
There was no point in delaying the inevitable. Why waste time with words when they could have what they really wanted?
Flamewar felt his hands at her interface panel, just as hers hands delved for his, but scrabbling was not enough. She was desperate. So was he. They were too hot. Too needy. Too full of the consuming desire to possess the other. Her patience had been spent vorns ago as she wasted away on the Darksyde; with a barely concealed snarl, the femme dug her claws into the metal panel and ripped it away, feeling the over sensitized shock reverberate through her own frame as her own covering panel went flying.
The electricity flying between them was almost too much to allow the right cables to be inserted into the right ports. Instantaneous connection rendered; their heads flew back in perfect rapture as they suddenly intertwined, weaving into the perfection of their other half. The wall Barricade had been forcing Flamewar into collapsed further in onto itself, taking the two bots down with it. They hardly noticed. Not when they were exploring territories that belonged solely to them, drinking from an oasis that only existed when they were together.
And the heat. The heat was blazing. Burning. Searing. Painful and damn well the best ecstasy they'd ever experienced. Their coolant boiled over and their internal fans whirred desperately, and still their temperatures soared. Around them, puddles of stagnant water heated, steamed, evaporated into a hazy fog that settled thick around them, encapsulating them in a cocoon of lust and longing.
Barricade plundered what he saw fit, ravaging his femme's offered mind as if she were a buffet designed just for him. He took, he stole, he dived deeper, caressing her mind in ways so intimate that she cried out, begged, clawed at him until his paint peeled, and desperately scratched for more that her fingers caught on an energon line below a slate in his armor and he bled hot energon.
The sizzle of the glowing liquid snapped Flamewar into hyper-awareness. Every neural relay in her frame was alive and screaming. Her optics blazed gloriously in the dark, demanding Barricade's gaze, forcing him to look at her. What she saw sucked every ounce of air and sense out of her being.
He worshiped her.
It wasn't just lust. Not blind hunger or arousal. There was emotion burning bright and real and feverish in his optics. He was giving her everything he had, pouring himself into her as if she were a goddess and he had only himself as a meagre offering. And every revealing, powerful, spark-inspiring emotion she saw crossing his dazzling optics she knew were mirrored in her own. For every touch, astral or otherwise, she returned it with all her spark.
In that instant, they knew they were in dangerous territory.
They were Decepticons wavering dangerously close to the precipice of love.
Their movements stilled, the once blazing heat boiling them alive suddenly simmering down to a heated throb.
They knew they were close to a dangerous path, one that no two Decepticons had ever dared to wander down. Could they do that? Were they brave enough? Strong enough? Were they ready for something so huge and consuming, binding and powerful?
Barricade's optics dropped to the nonexistent space between them, shifting so that hot electricity danced between, lighting small fires across their plating. His gaze slowly traveled back up to Flamewar's faceplate, mapping every detail of her frame as his gaze made its way up slowly. Resolution suddenly pumped in through his side of the connection; after the pit he'd lived through in the Nemesis, he was ready to have his Matrix, his everything. He was ready to pledge everything to her.
Flamewar shuttered her optics, tilting her head back before she was forced to stare into those beautiful ruby optics. Could she do this? Was she ready? Was she capable? After so long of waiting… wishing… wanting… Everything she'd sacrificed; the pit she lived through on the Darksyde… Always searching for him, hoping to see the Nemesis on the horizon.
Her optics suddenly opened, meeting Barricade's resolute gaze. With that one look, she knew.
Her legs coiled up, her feet planting firmly in Barricade's abdominal plating, before she thrust all the power she had in her lower body to throw the mech off and across the parking lot. A wild shower of sparks erupted in the night as he hit the cement ceiling, and then skidded along the ground. Chunks of heavy roof and ground flung this way and that. Before the mech even had a chance to register what had happened, his femme was on him again, claws digging into the crease of his chassis and trying to fling open his chest plates.
"Here? Now?" He asked, choked on lust and wonder.
"I'm not waiting another damn astrosecond!" she snarled.
The heat returned ten fold between them. Barricade's chest plates flung open, Flamewar's mirroring him. They were already too excited; too wild with pure sensation and emotion; with the exposure of their sparks, the hot electricity that had been flying through between them suddenly became a storm. The parking lot they writhed in was thrown into sharp relief as the very essence of the two bots was unveiled in unrivalled glory.
"Primus, you're beautiful," Barricade managed to murmur as he reached out to caress the pulsing magnificence displayed before him. He was not prepared for the wild cry Flamewar released as the very tips of his claws touched her, her entire frame arching backward until it seemed as if she would snap. To see her so lost in pleasure…. He touched her again, this time more boldly, let his fingers intertwine with the divine energy within her spark case.
"Barricade! Please, Barricade! Now!" She shrieked, fingers, hands, limbs grasping wildly for something to ground her to the solid world. She was going to die if this went on any longer.
Drawing his hands out of her chassis, Barricade took Flamewar's faceplate and pressed their foreheads together once more. His optics only asked one question.
Are you sure?
And her optics seared with the answer.
I've never been more sure of anything in my life.
He nodded, grasping her frame, pausing for only an astrosecond, contemplating the very moment their sparks would make contact… The astrosecond seemed to stretch on for eternity. With a desperate hissed, Flamewar's hands shot out and clutched tightly to his shoulders, dragging herself down. Their open chests fused, sparks suddenly thrusting together.
Time literally stopped for that moment.
They lay there, frozen, optics focused on only each other, more aware of each other in this very moment than they ever had been before and ever will be again.
In that instant, they were one. They were whole.
The intensity of the aftermath of the bonding lit the night so brightly it became day for split astrosecond. Left weak, drained, and intensely satisfied, Barricade and Flamewar simply let themselves lie in a stupor of bliss until they could feel their own frames again.
Dawn was actually just below the horizon before either one of them moved. Flamewar was the first to shift, inching her chest upward so as to slowly, agonizingly, pull her spark away from its other half. That act alone nearly drained of her every last drop of sense she had. She flopped to the side and found herself pulled into the shelter of her mech's side. Her hand went out to him, laying overtop the spot where she felt his spark pulsing beneath the now closed armor.
They were changed now. Irreversibly. Irrevocably.
Awe clear on his faceplate, Barricade turned to stare at the femme lying next to him. Even with the dampening field still active and all his sensors dead, he could still feel her. In every fibre of his being, she now existed. Now until the end of time. Every line of code, every program, every file, every minute speck of information gathered in his frame was now imprinted with the very essence of this deadly, dangerous femme. And he to her.
They felt each other as clearly as they were aware of themselves. It was an awing, humbling sixth sense that was beyond intimate. Thoughts, emotions ran like ghosts between them through the painfully new bond that had just been forged between them.
Barricade was suddenly overtaken with the urge to solidify the overwhelming emotions pulsing through his frame. "Flamewar, I lo-."
"Shhhh, don't ruin it," she hushed, a single finger to his mouthplates. "Maybe later."
Barricade nodded. They had forever now.
Extreme exhaustion suddenly overtook them, all their energy spent. Not a thought crossed their processors over the fact that they were laying in the middle of a destroyed parking lot at the heart of an alien town whose citizens were about to awaken with the dawn (if they were not already awake from the pit the two 'Cons had raised through the night), nor to the fact that they had just committed a dangerous crime against every Decepticon ideal that had been drilled into them. They were in love. They were bonded.
They didn't care. Not now. Not when they finally had each other.
Together, they drifted off into recharge.
They'd deal with tomorrow when it came.