Alrighty, this chapter is a bit of a slow one at the start, but hopefully it gets cute by the end. ^_^ Not a lot of time to say more since I have about a billion other things I have to do for school. So… I hope you enjoy yourselves~ Review to spread the love! =)
CNightJoy- Incorporating the different characters from different TF universes was such a blast. I'm glad you got a kick out it. ^_^ Wheeljack is indeed happy about Tungsten being alive now- kind of like the robot version of Pinocchio! =P As for Chase and Hound… I think they will always be stuck chasing and hounding each other, never quite sure or brave enough to do anything more unless something drastic happens. ^_^;
Renegadewriter8- lol~ Blaster with a radio show is a very epic thing. =P As for Prowl and Jazz, they'll appear when they're ready to appear. ^_^
Dazja- Haha, if Chase made it that easy for herself, then she wouldn't be the Chase we all love to be frustrated with. =P
Phoebe Turner- Thanks so much~ You're too kind. :)
Flameshield- Yep, Tungy has a life now- he's the robot version of Pinocchio! =P Yeah, Sam did not exactly appreciate it when he woke up six months later after getting Tungsten's spark and realized he'd been deadlocked for that long. Not a pleasant thing. =(
GBScientist- *shrugs* It's the slow moments in life that help keep you sane when life tends to fly by at the speed of light.
Bluebird Soaring- Awwwww, my dear, you may say you love me as much as you want! XD To tell you the truth, I was rather excited to introduce Tungsten in the last chapter to see how you would react. =P Let me tell you, Tungsten is among one of the most adorable, quirky creatures this side of the moon; I'm so glad you like him! =) You're honestly an amazing reader, especially for your honest patience and interest in characters like Tungsten and Chase. Especially Chase, who even I want to throw through a wall sometimes. XD It's so heartening to read one of your reviews~ Thank you so much for reading and taking the time to review~
Chloo- Internet and real love you say? The non-creepy variety? Sure, I'll take it! I'll wallow in it like a pig in mud on a hot summer day! 8D And let me tell you, girl, I adore you right now. Your review just about put me in a happiness-induced coma! XD I didn't think anyone would really warm up to Leo & Raoul… I think your review of them totally made it worth it. =P Oh, and then there's Tungsten, the overall-wearing spaz-bot who's the robot version of Pinocchio. XD Yep, he does wear overalls, and when there's a fancy (human) occasion that he's invited to, he dresses up in either tuxedos or dresses- it all depends on what he's in the mood for and what would look best with his date. =P Being with the humans has given him a couple of very strange quirks. ^^;
TransformersLover95- Believe me, my friend, you are not the only one who wants to yell at Chase and Hound. They're both so stubborn, it's ridiculous. ^_^; Sadly, I don't think I can turn my stories into a movie… something about crazy copyright laws or whatnot. But, I do happen to have an amazing illustrator (FunkyFish1991) on DeviantART who brings the stories to life with her art. =)
Balrog Roike- Right you are, my dear- Wheeljack is rather happy to finally be able to talk to Tungsten and have the little bot answer back for real. ^_^ Your insight into Chase and Hound's (non)relationship is astounding- truly, unless something drastic happens, I think they'll always be stuck chasing and hounding each other. ^_^;
DramaStar-Mel- Haha, I'm glad you enjoyed the "family" side of things. Since a lot has happened since As We Come Together, I figured it was only fair to show the readers some of the stuff going on now. Tungsten is one great big bundle of jumpy nerves and love! =P
Violet- Awww, thanks so much~ You're too kind. =)
Shout out to FunkyFish1991 for giving this chapter the once over like she was eyeing a naughty stripper in a dirty Italian strip club, and then giving it her approval. You're awesome, Fish! =D
Lastly: this chapter is dedicated to my mind, which I happened to have lost recently. -_-
May We Never Let Go
To Worry and to Hope
Optimus sat peacefully in his section of the Solarium, which doubled as a secondary office whenever he felt like sticking close to his sparkmate. His desk and all the usual accouterments of administrative duties were tucked demurely away amongst the overwhelming greenery, shielded from the main activity of the room by a thick green curtain of climbing vines clinging to a wall of wooden lattice work. There wasn't much privacy, but it was a sacrifice Prime could easily make.
With the morning now in full bustle, despite it being a Saturday, the base was full of all sorts of activity. Thankfully, he faced away from the main base so he wouldn't be as distracted as he could be if he could watch the comings and goings of everyone. Overhead, planes and helicopters came and went on their own schedules while cars and trucks revved, hummed, and clunked along. Nearby, humans filled every corner of the base. He could hear them as a very dull murmuring in the background. Occasionally he could make out a word or two; there were languages from all over the world. The humans were of every kind of nationality and ethnicity; their pay cheques paid by a number of different employers.
Some happened to be military personnel rotated in and out from various governments to show "goodwill" between the countries of Earth and the Cybertronians. They offered time and manpower that the EDC and Autobots couldn't really turn down. No one mentioned the real reason that delegations of military personnel came in and out, which was mostly so international governments could keep an eye on the aliens. It wasn't worth wasting time or breath on the issue. While they made up a significant portion of the human population of base, they were not the majority.
EDC agents held the monopoly on base, much to the relief of some bots and the annoyance of others. They were among the least jumpy of the humans, and certainly among the ones who treated the Cybertronians as if they were no different from anyone else. However, there were still quite a few agents who clung to their Sector Seven days, much like Simmons did, and that did nothing but cause frazzled nerves. What was most interesting about the EDC agents was that a significant percentage of them actually boasted of alien ancestry; the majority were human-alien hybrids, but a couple full-bloods lurked about. Their presence on base served to make the Cybertronians feel a little less alone in the alien department.
And then there were business coordinators from all different sects of the global economy- the capitalist parasites that they were. Some were welcomed on the base and some were very lucky they hadn't been stepped on yet. But, of course, that was simply business. Although loath to admit it, the Autobots owed much of their flourishing accounts to their dealings with human industries.
All of that activity, of course, was being relegated to background noise as Optimus Prime concentrated on his work.
Or, to be more accurate, as he attempted to concentrate.
Unfortunately, even as his desk called its siren song to begin work, Prime's mind was elsewhere. It was damnably difficult to concentrate on any one thing when there seemed to be a thousand other subjects clamouring for his attention. The dozen or so half-finished and barely started reports scattering Prime's desk were a testament to his distraction. Not even the calm atmosphere of the solarium was any help in soothing his racing mind. At the forefront of his distraction was the culmination of recent events; Sunstreaker's report, given but a few joors before, weighed heavily in his mind. While he did not worry as greatly for the twins or Hound, and to an extent he was not overly concerned for Sam, Bumblebee had taken precedence in his mind.
Bumblebee, who was a veteran of an ancient war and still so young at spark. That dear, sweet-sparked yellow minibot who had been forced through more things in his life than any other being had a right to live through. One couldn't help but wonder if his damages didn't run a little deeper than everyone else's. If they did, he hid it well. Even on the orn when Optimus had deigned to tell him of his origins, Bumblebee had taken the news so… benignly. He had been expectedly upset, but not to the extent that one would think normal. It had been as if the little scout had tucked it all away inside himself.
All this time, could Bumblebee have been covering up the symptoms of a much deeper problem?
Or was Optimus the one who was reading too much into Bumblebee's disturbed mood? Everyone was entitled to being upset once in a while, after all. And yet... without even seeing Bumblebee himself, Optimus felt that something was definitely not right. He could not blame his unease entirely on a creator's prerogative to be worried; after so long of denying any such bond, he was not sure if he was at all entitled to such a prerogative now. On that note, he wasn't sure he could resist feeling as he did when Elita One felt the same way, her concern compounding his.
"Elita One," he sighed, at a loss to know what to do with her.
He could feel her as she moved around base. Undercurrents of uncertainty, anxiety, a bit of trepidation, hinted at by the electric zing of fear. If he had to guess where she was at that very moment, it would be somewhere topside- near the med bay, but never in the med bay. Had she somehow coaxed Bumblebee out of his mood and finally guided him to Ratchet? Or had she pushed herself too far going underground and was now in need of someone to talk to?
Out of concern, he reached out to her. In return, he was given hasty assurance that all was well. Her feelings of fear and anxiety soon abated. Optimus could not tell if it was because she had closed that part of their bond off to him, or if those particular feelings had been eased. There was distance in their bond that had not been there before, one that made it difficult at times to understand what the other was doing, thinking, or feeling. Where they had once been one, they were now… unsure of where they stood. Love was an undeniable fact, their devotion to each other eternal, but the intimacy they had once shared? It was not quite the same anymore.
Shockwave could be thanked for much of the physical damage. Elita's spark still bore the marks of her captivity, and it was beginning to look as if she would carry them for the rest of her life. But Shockwave, no matter how twisted he had been, could not be blamed for the entirety of Elita One's condition. Her mind had been broken at the hands of the Fallen. The Fallen, who had once been nothing more than a frightening story to tell in the dark, a myth that had faded in and out of fashion as time passed on. That impossible creature himself, in his seemingly endless capacity for torment, had apparently made it his goal in life not only break Elita but shatter her into a thousand pieces.
Shockwave may have been dead, but the Fallen still thrived like a festering wound. If he had been the extent of Optimus's worries, then perhaps, perhaps, things might have been okay. The beast seemed content in spreading anarchy and chaos, with no true dedication to destruction. Given enough time, something could have been contrived to defeat him. As the balance stood, however, Optimus, the Autobots, Decepticon-Neutrals, and Earth itself were held at the mercy of the master of the Fallen. Unicron, who devoured worlds, who contained power unimaginable, who possessed the rotted corpse of Megatron, held Earth and all its inhabitants at his mercy.
To be reduced to such a tenuous fate had long since taken its toll on Optimus. He was exhausted straight through to his spark. Hollowed out by ceaseless pressure, eroded so viciously from the inside out that the wind whistled through him coldly. The weight of his burdens dragged him down until his back bent and his faceplate dragged in the dirt. His armour felt thin now, his once powerful frame pitifully brittle.
And still Optimus worried. He could do nothing else, even as he was driven to distraction and felt the edges of stress give way into a kind of lonely madness every leader felt when the pressure of their station became too much.
When it became too much, Optimus hunched forward in his seat and let his faceplate fall into his upraised palms.
Was he forcing his people to fight against impossible odds? Of course he was.
Did he doom an innocent planet to destruction by involving the humans instead of leaving years ago? Most likely.
His vorns of training to become Prime had never prepared him for this.
There were so many things he had never been prepared for. War, for one thing. Cybertron had never suffered anything worse than a riot or two; at most, there might have been conflict between territories. Optimus had never imagined an orn would come when his own brother would turn against him. An orn when Cybertron would be ravaged. The Allspark destroyed, now handicapped in the form of a human.
If someone had mentioned to Optimus on the orn he became Prime that an orn would come when the whole universe would feel like it was stacked against him, he might have reconsidered taking the mantle of Prime.
Of course, how could anyone have known what the future would bring?
"It's not all doom and gloom, you know?" Elita One softly intoned, appearing at Optimus's side with no more noise made than a spirit. Her hand gently caressed along the side of his faceplate. She could feel the turmoil of his spark, summoned back to the Solarium by it.
"Dearspark." Optimus turned his faceplate into the touch, taking strength from it. "I should have been more aware of what I was transmitting; I shouldn't have troubled you with what I was feeling."
Elita's smile wavered for a moment, turning sad. "I'm your sparkmate, Optimus. We made the choice to shoulder burdens together the orn we chose to bond." Even though recently, bots tended to forget that she could shoulder anything at all.
"You have enough on your mind," Optimus countered, but it was a lacklustre argument to Elita and he felt her dislike of it.
Elita drew her hand away, taking a step back. Her optics, always so beautiful but sad, watched him with a stubborn light. "If you are referring to my debacle underground, then yes, it was an overwhelming experience," she admitted. "However, I am above ground now. When I brought Bumblebee to the med bay, I took the opportunity to speak with one of the doctors there. I am fine now. More than able to help you now."
Instead of bowing to her insistence, Optimus evaded. "How is Bumblebee doing now?"
Elita's mouthplates pressed into a thin line, seeing the change of subject for what it was. She allowed it, for now. "He is as fine as anyone can expect him to be," she said. "He's tired, hurt, scared, and confused. He knows what he is, but doesn't understand where he's from; he questions who he is because of that. This new bot, Nemesis, said things to him that made him question himself, and it frightened him."
Optimus bowed his head. "I never should have told him where he came from."
"And have him react even more badly when he did find out from some other source?" Elita shook her head. "Optimus, what he needs is to know is that he has family and friends who love and support him. Not to smother him, but to support him." She paused, crossing her arms over her chassis. "For that matter, I could do with a little less coddling myself."
Optimus caught her stubborn gaze, frowning lightly. "Elita..."
"No, please let me say it," Elita cut in, bullying him into silence. "There is a fine line between support and smothering, and well-meaning Autobots have been crossing that line for years."
Optimus straightened, preparing to defend his Autobots.
Elita cut him off with a look. "I can stand on my own now, dearspark. I'll stumble, but I don't need the world to stop for everyone to pick me up again. I know how to pick myself up. I'm getting quite good at it." She reached out again, this time with both hands so that she cupped his faceplate. "I won't break if I help shoulder your burdens. That's what sparkmates are for. At least give me that courtesy instead of shutting me out."
Optimus gazed at his mate, love and more glowing in his optics. "And what of the burdens you carry?"
"You lighten my load by being here," she replied, smiling.
"Can that not apply to my burdens?" he enquired.
"No, you must share yours. Planets are too heavy to carry by yourself," Elita said matter-of-factly. "You have a terrible habit of brooding for long joors on end, and we have been apart too long for me to be able to stand it for long."
"A bad habit I have developed in your absence," Prime admitted ruefully.
"I recall you had a similar habit firmly in place long before I was kidnapped," Elita admonished lightly, her spark teasing against his. "Even then, you had a terrible habit of becoming so involved in all the troubles of the universe, you forgot you were only one bot." She gestured to the shining windows around them, dappled light shining in through the green leaves everywhere. Cast in the green-hued light of her paradise, Elita One looked ethereal. "I just had to remind Bumblebee not to forget of all the good things that surround him, must I also remind you?"
Optimus took her hand, bringing it to his mouthplates. Cybertronians didn't kiss like humans. Trying something like that would most likely end up with both parties getting locked together in a rather uncomfortable position. But there was still intimacy in the gesture of pressing his sparkmate's hand to his mouthplates. He met her gaze steadily, reaching out through their bond to bring her into an encompassing embrace, the essence of his spark surrounding hers.
"I am looking at the one good thing in my life that I could never forget," murmured the Prime, never taking his gaze from her.
Elita laughed gently, flattered. Even sitting down at his desk, he was much larger than she, requiring that Elita stretch to press her forehead to his. "You, my dearspark, are an incurable romantic."
"I believe it is one of my better habits," Optimus murmured, soaking in her closeness.
"One that I appreciate more and more," Elita admitted. "However," she backed away, using a finger under his chin to turn his head to the windows, "you mustn't forget that there is so much good out there, right along with the bad."
Optimus stared out into the desert. It was a wide expanse of red-hued dirt and sand, carpeted by rough, sparse brush and prickly plants. Nothing like the oasis they sat in, overflowing with life.
Seeing that her example was less than inspiring, Elita One released his chin and allowed him to return his gaze to her. "All right, I admit- I could have chosen a much more inspiring vista as an example," she said with a shake of her head. "You're just going to have to trust me that there is good out there."
"I know there is, dearspark," Optimus assured her. "It's not always easy to remember, but I promise I never forget."
Taking a step back, Elita took his hands with her, summoning him to rise. Completely at her command, Prime rose to his feet and watched his mate as she smiled up at him.
"I believe you need to get out of here for the day," she said. "Go out, walk around, and remind yourself of the good life you've built here for yourself and your people. It's far from perfect, but a perfect life would be a boring one." When Optimus's gaze strayed to the mountain of work beckoning to him from his desk, she tugged his hands. "That can wait," she ordered.
"If you say so," Optimus sighed. It wasn't like he had been intensely focused on finishing it anyways. "Will you be joining me on this mission?"
Elita offered a small smile that made Optimus's spark flutter. "I was actually planning on driving out for the day and relaxing somewhere." And by 'somewhere' she meant finding the flattest, emptiest, most wide-open patch of desert she could find and laying there for the rest of the day to soak up solar energy, enjoying absolute freedom.
Understanding her need, Optimus nodded and gently brushed against their bond. She brushed back. They smiled.
"I'll be going, then," Elita announced, taking a step back. "I would have been gone as soon as I was done at the med bay, but your call was too strong." She met his gaze. "I love you, dearspark."
Without hesitation, Optimus replied, "I love you, too." As Elita started to turn to leave, Optimus quickly swooped in to take her hand. "Come, let's leave together. If we are to spend the day apart, then I want to savour the moments I have with you."
Elita's optics sparkled, her spark alive and dancing ephemerally against his. "Ever the romantic," she admonished playfully once again, but allowed herself to be escorted from the solarium.
They parted ways amiably at the door, Elita transforming into her sleek, rose-painted Cybertronian alt mode, while Optimus folded down into the highly recognizable form of a flame-painted semi-truck. Optimus did not start out right away, but lingered where he sat in order to watch his mate drive out into the desert plains. He suffered a moment of wishing to go with her, but had not shielded the desire from the femme. She didn't appreciate the urge to coddle, as she saw it, and instantly set him straight with a good astral-shove to get him moving in the other direction.
With a deep rev of his engine, Optimus started off on his quest to find the good that was "out there".
It was not long into his journey when he came upon a scene that might be construed as evidence of good... or simply evidence that even the most level-headed, logical mechs Optimus knew could be driven insane after so long on Earth.
Choosing to hang back so as not to draw attention to himself yet, Optimus watched as his current head tactical adviser and his ex-Special Ops commander smoothly moved through the motions of tai chi. They were not alone in the open courtyard. Around their feet were at least two dozen humans, mostly EDC agents, who were starting their day off with some meditative movements. Among them was the recognizable form of Miles Lancaster, his cybernetic eye glowing especially bright as he stood in Jazz's shadow.
As one, the group moved gracefully from one form to another. Prowl and Jazz, easily standing over ten feet taller than any other figure in the yard, were the most noticeable. They made a handsome pair together. Their resume of skills had always been complimentary to each other, but they were also a visually appealing sight. Prowl's glossy black-and-white paint stood out brightly against the subtle, sleek sheen of Jazz's silver armour. They moved as one, both looking at peace. Their movements were perfectly timed to each other, Prowl undoubtedly transmitting the sequence of movements to Jazz so the blind mech could keep up without having to ask aloud.
Tai chi had not been either mech's idea. It had been a suggestion made to Prowl (several times) to help him relax, since according to several human doctors, he had an acute stress disorder brought on by his disturbingly intense A-type personality complex. Reluctant at first- to the point where Optimus thought he would have to step in and make the suggestion an order- it had been Jazz who solved the dilemma one morning. All he had done was indicate to Prowl that he wanted to join the morning tai chi group, but required another Cybertronian present to help him since he wasn't be able to follow along visually like everyone else. After that, there had been no objections from Prowl.
Despite the fact that it was his guilt for being the reason his lover was trapped in his current condition- blinded in a way that could never be cured- Prowl now appeared to truly be enjoying himself. He was at peace in a way that was rare for a mech like him.
Jazz, for that matter, did not look so much like a trapped animal like he normally did. Although he could hide his blindness well, he did not always deal with the handicap it gave him very well. He had gone from one of the most capable warriors of the Autobot forces, to one who could not be used for reconnaissance or engaging the enemy; the stress of being trapped with menial desk work had nearly driven him to the brink several times.
Optimus continued to watch as the session came to a calm end. The humans slowly dispersed, either on their way to begin their shifts or wander off for breakfast. Prowl gave himself a good shake, even allowing his doorwings a good flap to stretch them, before reaching for his lover's hand. It had been an unthinking gesture, not one of affection that most people might have assumed it to be, but one meant to guide Jazz away. Jazz bristled, snatching his hand away.
"Ah can find mah own way," said the saboteur, easily making his way out of the courtyard with use of his proximal sensors and magnetic pulses used like echolocation.
Prowl was left alone for a moment, watching Jazz's back. He dropped his gaze to his empty hand, sighed, and then left the courtyard for his own duties.
Optimus sank onto his axles with a sigh. All was not well in paradise. It hadn't been well in a while, but sometimes one could hope...
Carefully backing out of his hiding place, Prime merged back onto the street and continued on his way, a little more disheartened than he had been before. Coming onto the main street of base, a giant black Topkick came up alongside him. His company had very little concern for the oncoming traffic he was now blocking, allowing everyone else to swerve out of the way. If Optimus wasn't mistaken, Ironhide actually had his radio on, discreetly bobbing along to the music. Witnessing such a sight was... slightly disturbing. Optimus had to strongly resist the urge to enquire if his best friend happened to be possessed by the Fallen. Instead, he said:
"You're in an unusually good mood."
"I am," Ironhide replied immediately, sounding cheerful even through the private channel.
"Care to share the secret to your good mood?"
Ironhide slowed for a moment as if surprised, then picked up to be even with Optimus again. "You don't know?"
Optimus took a moment to think of anything that might constitute a good mood for Ironhide: his guns or his sparkmate. Since neither of those things seemed to fit this situation, Optimus decided to answer in the negative. "I'm sorry, I don't... Is there something happening today?"
"There is," Ironhide replied. "I'm surprised you don't know- I'm quite sure you gave your permission for it months ago."
"Permission for...?" Now Optimus checked his memory files in earnest for any indication of anything significant scheduled for today. Unfortunately, either he had forgotten to log it, misfiled it somehow, or it had gotten lost in the mountain of other concerns he faced.
"Obviously you've forgotten," Ironhide huffed.
Optimus revved. "How about you remind me?" They stopped at an intersection, Ironhide taking the lead ahead of Optimus. He put his blinker on, indicating that Prime should follow him. They turned down the appropriate road, and then Ironhide dropped back so he was side-by-side with Optimus again.
"Come with me, instead. You will enjoy the distraction, I am sure of it," the weapons specialist offered, a little too eager with the invitation.
Optimus was quiet for a moment, suddenly suspicious. "Did Elita put you up to this?"
The Topkick's engine sputtered. "No, of course not-!"
"You're a terrible liar, Ironhide," Optimus pointed out flatly.
Ironhide growled. "All right, she might have mentioned something, but it's not like she had to twist my arm. She's not the only one concerned about you."
"I am fine," Optimus assured.
"Oh yes, as fine as any of us," Ironhide drawled.
"I'll pretend you're not insulting the mental condition of every Cybertronian on base," Optimus replied. "There are many things on my mind, my friend. And unfortunately for me, they are things that can't simply be ignored."
"I'm not saying to ignore them, Prime," Ironhide rumbled, disgruntled.
"Then what are you saying?"
"What I'm saying is..." The Topkick snorted loudly, frustration evident. "Look, Optimus, I have been by your side for a long time. I respected your rule when we were on Cybertron, and I trust your commands in this war, but you and I both know you become far too wrapped up in brooding over the negative."
"Elita just mentioned something like that to me," Optimus intoned ruefully.
"She's a smart bot. Smarter than most, and she's right," Ironhide replied. "I've watched you bury yourself underneath mountains of concerns, but I never said a thing about it because you were a good Prime. That was the way you dealt with things. But now?" He snorted. "I'm not going to let you do that slag to yourself anymore. We're all fighting the same enemy, so this is no time to be singling yourself out."
Optimus was stunned into silence by the honesty of the impassioned speech. He was stunned anew by the fact that it was from Ironhide of all bots. Not that Ironhide wasn't an intelligent mech, but he often kept most of his intelligent thoughts to himself. He must have had that speech bottled up for a while.
Once the shock of the moment wore off, Optimus saw the reason behind the words. He sagged in submission. "You're right."
Ironhide puffed up haughtily. "I know I am."
"And humble about it, too," Optimus said wryly. "You're a true friend, Ironhide. Thank you."
"You're welcome."
They stopped at another intersection, silent for the length of time it took for the lights to change. As soon as they had a green, they started forward. Optimus decided to try to find out what this distraction he was attending was supposed to be.
"So, of this mysterious event you are taking me to... what is it?"
"Find out for yourself," Ironhide laughed, his good mood slowly returning.
"Are you planning on shooting anything?" Prime enquired curiously.
"I wouldn't dream of it, not for this," Ironhide replied honestly.
That scratched off several options for what this possible distraction could be.
"Is there the possibility of something blowing up?" Optimus asked.
"As far as I know, Wheeljack isn't showing up," Ironhide chuckled.
And yet another list of possibilities was gone... Although it was a relief to know that no damage control for unruly explosions was going to be necessary.
"Then I give up, please tell me what's happening," Optimus insisted.
"You don't get off that easy, Prime. Just come and you'll find out." Picking up the pace, Ironhide once again slipped ahead and guided Prime through the base.
To Optimus's surprise, he was guided into the sprawling sector of their large base that served as the humans' living quarters during their week-long shifts. The sector itself was treated much like the Cybertronians treated their underground refuge; it was a place where the human could retreat from the rigors of their day and be human. The entire sector was a fair sized area bordering the outer perimeter of base, boasting of amenities appropriate for human comfort. Apartment buildings stood next to squat barracks; while the barracks existed for the rotating staff, there were permanent residents on base, such as Sam himself, who took up the more spacious apartments. Familiar human businesses took up space in discreet corners- a coffee shop, indoor and outdoor movie theatres, a small post office, and even a grocery mart. A microcosm of human life. By nature of it being so very human, the human sector was not a place Ironhide normally went without good reason. With that in mind, the mystery of why he was there became even more tantalizing.
They drove into one of the parking lots nearest the outer border, gaining an unfettered view of the dry, sparse plains stretching out around them. In the lot they arrived in, an Autobot was already sitting demurely in his alt mode, which happened to be a light blue Corvair dune buggy. Beachcomber could not possibly be the reason for Ironhide's detour into the human sector. It was a well-known fact that Ironhide and Beachcomber avoided each other on principle. However, there also happened to be two humans present. One was a woman in her early thirties, blond hair drawn back into a smart ponytail, a trim dun-coloured pantsuit donned for the occasion, and a PDA perched in her palm. By her attitude and dress, she worked for Public Relations- and was not as cavalier with her fashions as Miles tended to be. The other human happened to be Will.
Will saw them coming and hailed them with a wave. "Come to see show, did you?" the human teased, mostly directing his teasing to Ironhide. "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist."
"She called last night and asked if I would come to see her; I couldn't very well tell her no," Ironhide huffed, trying to sound as if he were very put off by coming. No one believed him, not when he looked fresh from the wash racks, his midnight black armour polished to a fine shine. He was looking to impress someone. "Have you been here long?"
"Nah, just got here a little while ago. It feels like I never left this place, though," Will laughed, trotting over to pat Ironhide's flank. "But don't go changing the subject, 'Hide. You spoil her and you know it."
"I do not!" the weapons specialist grouched.
"Spoil who?" Optimus enquired, now intensely curious to find out what was happening. He now had a sneaking suspicion of what might be happening, since there was only one being in the universe Ironhide like to spoil and had the hardest time saying no to. Optimus kept his suspicions to himself for the time being.
"Here they come," Beachcomber suddenly announced. He sounded excited, much more transparent about his feelings than Ironhide ever was. His hologram flickered to life, which happened to be a tall, handsome Asian man. Like most holograms, he was a little too flawless to be completely believable; he boasted of the official EDC uniform, straightening it needlessly. He then spared a glance to his alt mode to make sure he was presentable in that form as well. Normally a laid back bot, sometimes to the worrying degree of being comatose, the extra primping was a curiosity.
Automatically, Optimus followed Beachcomber's example. His hologram switched on, standing next to his grill. Ironhide, as usual, didn't bother. He refused the use of holograms unless the situation absolutely called for it.
"I hope the rifts didn't get them too badly. The first time crossing is the worst," Will commented as a jaunty yellow school bus bumped into view.
"I warned the group to bring something to puke into in case they got sick crossing," intoned the human woman from Public Relations... Cathy? Carol? Whatever. She jotted notes down on her PDA.
Optimus immediately scanned the bus. To his surprise and delight, the majority of the occupants were younglings. "Some of them are distressed," Prime said. "But it appears that most of them are more excited than sick." He could hear them cheering from within the confines of the bus. The resiliency of younglings never ceased to amaze him.
Will blew out a relieved breath. "That's good. I'd hate for them all to start their trip off badly."
Beachcomber's hologram nodded slowly, and then said in his too-mellow voice, "I've noticed that vomiting does tend to ruin your species' mood."
"You noticed that, did you?" Will wondered wryly.
Ignoring the exchange, Optimus's hologram turned to the Topkick towering next to him, narrowing his gaze. "Annabelle is on that bus, isn't she?"
Ironhide leaned away subtly, looking quite guilty for a truck. "Quite possibly."
The matter was confirmed the moment the bus inched to a halt and the doors creaked open. A short, blond human wearing a Scouts uniform bolted out of the bus like a streak of lightning. Behind her came shouts for her to return, but determination and excitement were etched onto her face as she ran.
"Hey, Annie," Will called to his daughter, whom he had only seen that morning but was happy to see her again anyways.
"Hi, Daddy!" Annabelle shouted as she ran past him. Her intended target became obvious as her joyful wail hit decibels only dogs and Cybertronians could hear. "Ironhide!"
At the very last moment, Ironhide burst into a flurry of movement. Armour parted into a thousand little pieces, rearranging themselves like a living kinetic puzzle. He came to his feet in seconds, kneeling down and scooping Annabelle from the asphalt before she could run into his foot and hurt herself. She shrieked in excitement as she was tossed in the air, her arms and legs waving.
One thing about Annabelle, she had no fear of the Cybertronians. As far as she was concerned, they were family. And for many Cybertronians, Annabelle was special. At eight years old, Annabelle all but bubbled with love and energy. She was the closest thing on Earth to a Cybertronian youngling, and there were more than a few Autobots willing to dote on her. For her part, the little human girl certainly did not mind the extra attention.
Far from worried as his daughter flew through the air at death-defying heights, Will watched with amusement sparkling his eyes.
As soon as she came down in Ironhide's large palms, protectively cupped there so she wouldn't fall, Annabelle was staring up at the mech excitedly. "I knew you'd come!" she exclaimed, her shining curls bouncing around her round face. "You and Chromia haven't come over in FOREVER! I miss you guys so much! I wanted to see you so bad!"
Ironhide chuckled, blowing a warm draft of air across the youngling. "It's only been a couple of orns."
"It's been three months!" Annabelle laughed.
"Oh." Ironhide looked a little surprised and a little embarrassed. Earth time went by so quickly.
"It's okay, Ironhide. I know you're really bad with time." Annabelle scrambled to the edge of the mech's palm and looked down. "Dad! Make Ironhide drive you home when you're done work! I want him to visit!"
Will laughed. "Only if he wants to drive me home."
"I wouldn't mind," Ironhide intoned automatically. "I'll even see if Chromia will come." Chromia had a soft spot for Annabelle that was nearly as bad as Ironhide's. And where Ironhide had connected with William Lennox, Chromia had become particularly good friends with Sarah ever since the woman had taken care of Arcee when they had first come to Earth.
"You're the best!" Annabelle cheered.
Will shielded his eyes against the glare of the sun as he stared up at his daughter. "Honey, I think it's time you come down now."
With a dramatic sigh, Annabelle looked to Ironhide to put her back on the ground. The weapons specialist was quick to do so, but then had to nudge the little girl to get her to rejoin the group of younglings she had come with. She dragged her feet over, reluctant to leave. A few adults looked as if they wanted admonish her for running out like she did, but a rolling growl from Ironhide had them thinking better of it. The instant Annabelle was back with her friends, they surrounded her with excited squeals and looks of awe. They hadn't believed her when she had said she was best friends with the Autobots; they believed her now.
Beachcomber pouted a bit as he looked on, disappointed that Ironhide had ruined the fun of transforming in front of everyone. He'd been looking forward to surprising the humans; the range of reactions that came when a human first saw a Cybertronian transform were priceless. The surprise ruined, the microbot's hologram disappeared and he stood up in his true form. The sudden change caught everyone's attention, their gazes riveted on the transformation. Being much smaller than Ironhide, Beachcomber's shift was easier to watch without getting lost in so many moving parts. A couple little ones gasped or squealed as they watched. Beachcomber seemed moderately mollified by the attention.
Taking a deep drag of air, Beachcomber puffed out his chest and made himself looked prouder than he ever looked in his entire life. He smiled for the humans as he said, "Hello everyone, and welcome to the co-operative base of the Autobots and EDC. My designation is Beachcomber, and this here is Cassidy," he motioned to the blond human beside him, "and we are going to be your guides this weekend while you tour our facilities."
A couple of the younglings twittered excitedly, while some of them giggled over how "funny" Beachcomber's name was. A good portion of them kept sneaking looks up at Ironhide, who continued to tower over everyone, watching the proceedings with interest. Unfortunately, he was a very imposing figure whether he wanted to be or not, and ended up intimidating the adult chaperons of the group until Optimus ordered him to assume his alt mode again.
As Beachcomber calmly went over the weekend itinerary for the young group of Scouts, Optimus sat back and soaked in the young innocence and exuberance gathered in front of him. A vague memory came to him of Miles approaching him months ago with this idea. The young human had been under the impression that bringing young ones in would be a good step in the right direction to have Earth see the Cybertronians in a better light. Even if the adults were being stubborn, maybe they could educate the young. Seeing these younglings now, Optimus had to agree. Their bright eyes and open expressions as they watched and listened to Beachcomber filled him with hope. They reminded him of the reason he continued to fight. Why any of the Autobots continued to fight.
If they stopped fighting, such bright little sparks as Annabelle's would cease to shine.
Even if the world seemed utterly dark now, there was always hope for the future if little ones like Annabelle and her friends lived.
So they fought to protect the future.
Curious, Optimus sent an enquiring nudge to Elita One. At the same time, he sent her a brief message, wondering if she knew about the Scouts. Had she set him up? She didn't send him a reply message, but he could feel her laughing through their bond. Sweet, light, fey laughter that felt so good.
"And," Beachcomber intoned, his mellow tones taking on a bit of enthusiasm for his young guests, "just for you little ones, I managed to book a couple hours in the holodeck tonight. They're below ground, and humans are not normally allowed down there. You're very lucky that we managed to book them for you."
"So jealous of them right now," Will coughed quietly, but grinning.
"Mirage put up quite the fight trying to prevent them going down," Ironhide said quietly.
"Mirage is an aft," Will replied, rolling his eyes.
Someone's hand shot up, waving around eagerly. Before he could be called on, he eagerly blurted out, "What's a holodeck?"
Beachcomber smiled, his optics shining. "It's a giant room with holographic projectors in it that can create solid forms through light and force fields. With the projectors, we can make the room look like anything we want."
"Cool!" the boy shouted over the excited whispering that broke out.
"What are we gonna do in the holodeck?" someone else asked loudly.
"We'll be sleeping in there," Beachcomber informed. "But it won't be just a room when we're in there. I'll put on one of the favourite programs us Autobots like to play, so we'll all be on Cybertron's moon Diluna tonight. It is a very beautiful place."
"We're gonna sleep on the moon!" shrieked a girl.
"Yes."
Cheers and squeals erupted in abandon, prompting several of the adult chaperons to cover their ears while laughing.
"They'll never sleep tonight now," one adult said ruefully.
"They have a full day ahead of them," Cassidy intoned, rechecking the itinerary on her PDA. "They'll be tuckered out by the end of the day."
It took several minutes to calm the crazy group down. They were so much like the younglings from the Youth Sectors of Cybertron, Optimus couldn't help but be charmed.
One small girl stuck her hand up nervously, her wide brown eyes staring up at Beachcomber. "Are we going to meet Optimus Prime?"
At this, a wide smile crept across the microbot's faceplate, as it did across Will's and Cassidy's. Annabelle giggled. Ironhide chuckled deeply.
"As a matter of fact, you're in luck," said the dune buggy as he stepped back, giving an unimpeded view of the flame-painted semi parked behind him. "Optimus Prime is with us right now."
Right on cue, Optimus transformed. The usual musical melody of transformation was now accompanied by a choir of gasps and squeals. He stood to his feet and stretched high, creating a dramatic effect as sunlight glinted off his armour. He then knelt down on the asphalt, his calm gaze scanning the gathered crowd before him. The many eyes that stared up at him were wide, their expressions much like Sam and Mikaela's had been the first day Optimus had met them.
Surprise. Awe. A little bit of fear. A whole lot of wonder.
Young eyes that stared up at him with so much hope and promise.
He stared down at them all and smiled, his spark feeling lighter now than it had in orns.
"Hello," he said, letting the greeting roll from him. "My name is Optimus Prime..."