It is, perhaps, relevant to note that though the Autobots acted at once upon receiving Robin's call, for the boy wonder, time seemed to pass ever so much slower than it had beforehand. This was, in part, because he had nothing to do except hang around, quite literally.
This was also because, on his capture, Robin's radio (and consequently his left wrist) was broken. He was then hung back up where he'd started, but this time was not left alone. Though Robin had certainly suffered much worse injuries, the pain was incredibly distracting, especially considering that in his current position there was little else for him to do aside from think about it.
Actually, there was one other thing around to occupy his attention. In addition to Starscream, there was another Decepticon in the room. This one was dark purple, and extremely pointy. If Robin had thought the generic Decepticons were faceless, he realized now that he was wrong. This one had little more than a computer screen for its face.
Unlike all of its comrades, this Decepticon was silent. Utterly and completely devoid of comments. Robin also had the uncanny feeling that the Decepticon was staring at him. It was weird, because the thing had no optics, or none Robin could discern, and yet he felt its penetrating gaze boring into him, staring into his soul without compassion or, indeed, any emotion at all.
Starscream eventually identified his stony companion as Soundwave, a seemingly ironic name as the lithe Decepticon generally made no sound at all, not even the standard clunking and clanking of a casually walking member of the Cybertronian race.
Strangely, Robin was reminded of home. In the most bizarre twist of this entire misadventure, Robin felt as if he were seeing Batman in an alternate reality. Evil and robotic, but distinctly familiar. So similar, that Robin was able to read each movement and gesture of the Decepticon as if it were spoken English (or one of the many other languages he was fluent in).
Soundwave showed no recognition himself, indicating that there was no sidekick for him. This was hardly surprising, considering the Decepticon tendency to undercut one another rather than lend assistance. Their favorite occupation was treachery, or so it seemed to be.
"Where," Starscream hissed, his voice low, "is the Autobot base?"
"You're asking me?" Robin scoffed, which turned out to be more of a croak, "I just got to this planet, and didn't have time to buy a road map. A fact I find very irritating, by the way."
"Still with the jokes?" Starscream huffed, but Robin was looking past him.
Starscream was a blowhard, full of hot air and indignation, but armed with only a pointy electrified stick. Soundwave... now there was someone capable of wielding real power. One to be feared. Not that Robin feared him. Of course not. But alongside Soundwave, Starscream came off as a joke-
These thoughts were interrupted by a fierce prodding with the aforementioned pointy stick. When Robin's thoughts rather shakily recollected themselves and begin to jumble together, they formed an entirely different pattern, though not one that turned out to be in Starscream's favor.
"You know," Robin said, his voice barely a whisper, "That's really very boring. It didn't work the first time, I don't see why you think doing it again will help."
For this, he was poked again, this time for a more extended period of time.
This time however, Starscream was very rudely interrupted by a flash of light behind him, followed by weapon's fire. The Autobots had arrived, opening a ground bridge right inside the room.
"Get the door!" Robin called out, noticing at once the Autobots' tendency to be more concerned with the current situation than a future one.
They moved in to defend Robin, concerning themselves with the present Decepticons, rather than thinking about the door behind them, which could open at any second, admitting a flood of Decepticons who would be drawn by the sound of battle more than any alarm. Soundwave clearly had the same perception, moving to block the door as Optimus turned in answer to Robin's call.
Robin went into action once more, escaping his chains once again, but this time not dropping to the floor, clinging to one chain with his right hand. At the first opportunity, he hopped onto Bumblebee, and from there to Optimus.
"I'll get his attention," Robin hissed, "You blast the door."
Before Optimus could protest, Robin flung himself at Soundwave. Soundwave was the first Decepticon ever to have anticipated this, sliding nimbly to the side and evading Robin almost entirely. But the boy wonder had taken this possibility into account and twisted mid-flight, realigning himself in order to catch Soundwave by the arm. In the seconds that passed, Optimus fired a single shot past Soundwave into the keypad beside the door, effectively breaking it. Now it could only be operated by prying it open or repairing it.
By six seconds, when Soundwave shook Robin off, Optimus was there to catch him as he fell. As one, the Autobots closed ranks and backed towards the ground bridge. And then, so far as the Decepticons were concerned, they disappeared through the lighted tunnel which then closed behind them.
Back at base, Optimus opened the hand which he'd closed protectively around Robin. Robin was kneeling down and coughing, making no attempt to speak or move other than to occasionally pause to take shuddering breaths. He sort of tipped and leaned against Optimus' partially curled thumb, using it for support as the coughing fit continued, and he trembled violently.
"Are you alright?" Optimus asked worriedly when the coughing went on unabated.
Robin tried to answer twice, then shook his head and held up a hand to let them know he intended to answer, just as soon as he was finished with what he was doing. Finally he took a sharp breath and managed to stop the coughing.
"I'll be fine," he lied, "Just learned a valuable lesson about energon and the human body."
His tone of voice was light, but he made no attempt to sit up, continuing to lean against Optimus, who could feel his frail body shaking uncontrollably. His eyes were half closed and Optimus could hear the soft wheezes that punctuated each intake of breath. Optimus knew that he was lying, but was too kind to call him on it.
"So what happened?" Miko asked, too far below to see Robin all that well, "Spill."
"Not much," Robin said too quietly, then cleared his throat and repeated it, adding, "Just found out that Starscream is a very boring interrogator."
"Boring?" Ratchet grunted, "That's what you're going with?"
"Yes," Robin replied wearily, "Anybody got any water?"
Jack located an unopened bottle of water, which he passed up to Optimus. When Robin stayed put, the others began to suspect that all was not right with him, but none of them were sure and so they said nothing. They were willing to admit that they didn't know Robin all that well and so could not speak for what might be considered "normal" for him given the situation.
"Remember to drink it slow," Miko advised, "You don't want to be sick."
Robin looked down at her, somewhat amused by this. If she had any inkling of how sick he was already, she wouldn't have bothered to say anything. As it was, she maybe thought he was a bit hurt, as Agent Fowler had once been. But Agent Fowler had not been under duress for so long, nor did he have the added tax of being from another dimension, one which it was literally killing him to be away from.
"We should allow Robin time to recover," Optimus said, "And leave the questions for later."
Gratitude shone in Robin's eyes as he looked up at Optimus. A look passed between them, and Robin could tell that the Autobot leader knew. For some reason, this was comforting. That he didn't have to go through this alone was a relief.
"Let me stay," he whispered too quietly for anyone other than Optimus to hear.
Optimus understood. He had been meaning to take Robin to the room he'd supposedly been staying in and leave him there. But, vulnerable as he was, Robin didn't feel secure there. Optimus nodded fractionally, and Robin settled into his hand, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh of relief.
Optimus couldn't begin to understand why it was that Robin trusted him to such an extent, but he could accept it. In truth, it came as something of a relief to him as well. He knew Robin was very sick, far sicker than he'd been letting on, and he had been looking for an excuse to keep an eye on the boy but had been unable to find any. Robin's unresisting and complete trust made it a moot point.
Looking at Robin half asleep in his hand reminded Optimus once again of how very fragile the world that he was trying to protect really was. So small and with so few natural defenses, prone to ailments numbering in the millions at least, not even counting the ease with which they could be injured. Yet humanity and the Earth were surprisingly resilient, capable of bouncing back from things which would destroy a lesser world. Also there was in Robin's eyes a fiercely burning fire, which even now flared brightly in liquid indigo windows to his soul. Determined to fight, to survive, refusing to acknowledge the odds against success, often continuing to exist through sheer power of will.
But despite all that, it was clear that Robin had been living on borrowed time, and that was fast running out for him. Somehow, they had to get him home, and get him there soon. Optimus had already known this, somewhere in the back of his mind, but he hadn't realized how serious the situation was until now.
"Ratchet, continue working on the Abyss Device," Optimus said quietly aside to the medic, "And... hurry," his gaze flickered meaningfully to Robin, who had already fallen into a fitful sleep, "If I or any of the other Autobots may be of assistance, know that the construction device takes precedent over everything aside from an emergency."
"What is it?" Ratchet asked, equally quiet, "What's wrong?"
"I do not know for certain," Optimus rumbled, "But I believe our reality is somehow adversely affecting our young human friend. If he is not returned home swiftly, I fear he may not survive."
Ratchet nodded his understanding, then indicated the children and other Autobots with his head.
"Do they know?"
"I do not believe they are aware," Optimus replied softly, "and I do not think Robin wishes them to be."
"Doesn't he trust us yet?" Ratchet huffed irritably, shaking his head.
"It is not about trust," Optimus told him softly, "I think, in his own way, he is attempting to protect us. He fears that, if we know his weakness, we shall try to shield him, and put our own safety aside."
Ratchet nodded, realizing that this was most believable, especially because it was perfectly true.
"How well he understands us," Ratchet commented, "and how little we him."
Optimus nodded, somewhat sadly.
It grieved him that the war with the Decepticons left so little time to get to know their human allies. On the other hand, the intensity of the situation often brought out both the best and worst humanity had to offer. So, in truth, the Autobots probably knew their human friends better than it would immediately appear.
Some time later, Robin awoke, feeling much stronger than before. It was at this point that his broken wrist was made known to the others as he requested materials for a splint, and then put it on himself, using mostly one hand and occasionally his teeth.
"I could help with that," Jack offered.
"Nah, I got it," Robin said, pausing to cough once or twice before adding, "I've done this before."
This earned him a raised eyebrow, but he didn't offer an explanation and nobody asked. He then finished off the bottle of water and ate the leftovers from the children's earlier lunch, though perhaps wolfed down might be the more appropriate term.
He then related his experiences on the Decepticon ship to a fascinated audience. Born into showbiz, Robin knew exactly how to tell a compelling story, toning down things which were exceptionally grim and playing up the more exciting bits, often with lively gesturing (albeit with only one hand).
"You know what they were trying to do?" He asked suddenly, mid-story, "In making the AD? They were trying to rip a hole in time, reach back through the eons and retrieve some dead robots. You know, before they got killed in the past. Which is a really stupid idea by the way," he added this hurriedly after noting a mischievous gleam in Miko's eye.
"Why?" Jack asked, virtually innocent where the complexities of time travel were involved.
"Changing the time line for one," Robin replied, "Duh. Also, they're going about it all wrong. Completely, entirely wrong. I mean, there's no similarity at all between a device for time travel and one for dimension travel. They're totally different concepts."
"If you say so," Jack said.
"But more importantly, if they took somebody who died away before they die-"
"It could change the outcome of a given battle," Optimus finished for Robin.
"Exactly," Robin said, with a nod, "Typically speaking, anyone worth bringing back to life didn't die in vain. So say their death caused a win for the Decepticons. Take them out of the battle-"
"And the Autobots might win," Raff supplied.
"And possibly change the time line so that the present becomes unrecognizable," Robin went on, enthusiastically, "and not necessarily for the better."
"Oh?" Miko asked, "But wouldn't the Autobots getting another win be a good thing?"
"You'd think that," Robin told her, his voice uncharacteristically gentle, "But the truth is, things happen for a reason. Just because something seems bad, doesn't mean it is. In the grand scheme of things, that is. Change one event, even something... very small and apparently insignificant, and you may wind up destroying the very fabric of reality."
"You sound like you speak from experience," Arcee observed.
Robin sighed and looked down at his damaged wrist wincing slightly, though it was unclear if the pain was from the break or from a memory.
"Sort of," he said finally, his voice quiet, "You have to understand, my life hasn't exactly been a bowl of cherries. There are a lot of things... a lot of things... that I'd want to change. But I've dealt with people who messed with time. And, not only that, I've spent some time with people who seriously know about this kind of stuff. They can paint a pretty harrowing picture."
"What sort of stuff would you want to change?" Miko asked, "I mean, you're... well... cool."
This got a small smile out of Robin, exactly as Miko had intended. She could almost feel the hurt in his eyes herself, and it just didn't look right knowing Robin as she did, bright and cheerful and endlessly energetic. Weary sorrow did not become him.
"Every hero has their own pain they carry around," Robin answered, shrugging dismissively, "Their own sorrow and demons. Or so the story goes," he smiled again, somewhat weakly, "Though I suppose that may not be true in this universe."
Bumblebee said something, which indicated fairly clearly that he knew exactly what Robin was saying.
Miko didn't, not really. She barely knew anything of what the Autobots had suffered through even to get this far. And, though she felt that she had suffered hardship and loss herself from time to time, there was no comparison between what she was and what Robin was.
"Say, for instance," Robin said after thinking a moment, "that you had a favorite pet. And it died. Then you found a way to time travel and bring it back to life. Later, it runs out into the road. An oncoming vehicle attempts to swerve to avoid hitting it. The vehicle crashes and driver dies as a result. They would have lived if not for the pet in the road. Maybe they're nobody important, but maybe their children become something they shouldn't because of their death. Maybe an as yet unborn child was destined to save the world somehow, but now they never will."
"Isn't that called the butterfly effect, or something?" Jack asked.
"I don't know," Robin shrugged, "Probably. But anyway, it may seem wrong that someone died, but everything works pretty much as it's supposed to. It all happens for a reason, even if you can't see it. Or so I've been told and choose to believe anyway."
"I guess fate isn't something you argue with," Raff murmured.
"Depends on what you mean by fate," Robin replied quietly.
Nobody understood what that meant, yet he spoke the words with such quiet sincerity that no one felt that they should ask.