AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yes, well, we're winding it down now. I have to admit, I'm very glad to be nearing completion with this story. I've got so many other plans in mind, and this one seems to be keeping me from getting those things done. So, with a sigh of relief, I give you the next chapter. Unfortunately, Neko, I couldn't wait until you got your mail. I just had to post it; I couldn't help myself. And I've just now, on 8.12.09, been able to see the reviews from Chapter 11. Weird. :|
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of these characters.
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Optimus felt a sudden silence fill his internal systems, a comfortable quiet that almost made him leap with joy. The jamming signal that Soundwave had maintained over the past three days had suddenly disappeared and he was met with welcome radio static. He began to tamper with his radio and prepared a new message that he hoped the Autobots would catch. Depending on how far they were from his locale, his chances were slim.
"Autobots, this is Optimus Prime. Come in, do you read me?"
The radio hissed at him for a while and he quickly became disheartened. What if they were out of range? His body began to sink again with the last of his hope. His systems suddenly slowed down again, almost automatically, as the radio simply continued to hiss at him, laughing, in his last hours. There was a sharp whine of a transmission and Optimus would've done some sort of Earth dance if he could because eventually the familiar voice of Sideswipe responded. "Yeah, you're coming in loud and clear, buddy. We're en route. Just sit tight and we'll be there soon."
"You have no idea how glad I am to hear your vocalizers. Please hurry. I'm not sure how much longer Sam can survive; he's lost a lot of blood."
"Yikes. Well, I'll tell them to pick up the pace. Estimated time of arrival is about seventy minutes. You're a big kid—take care until then. Sideswipe out."
Optimus knew he'd be able to last another hour; his main concern was Sam. His breathing pattern resembled hyperventilation as he remained flat on his back, staring relentlessly at the ceiling as if waiting for something to show through the concrete. He had to keep talking to him to keep his mind working; otherwise he knew that he'd lose him for good. Prime spoke almost silently, unsure when the Decepticons would come back or if they were listening in somehow. "Sam, I just got a message from Sideswipe. We're going to be saved. Just hold on. Sam?"
He continued to stare at the ceiling. Over several minutes of no response and Optimus grew more and more worried. He tried to call his name again, but Sam was in a different world entirely. Prime stopped eventually and watched his chest rise and fall with unhealthy speed, counting the times he inhaled and exhaled per minute.
"Optimus." Sam finally breathed. Optimus was overcome with relief at the boy's voice, albeit strained. "What did you say?" He said each word between pant-like breaths.
"We're going to be rescued, Sam. You just need to breathe. Calm down. I spoke to Sideswipe; they're coming for us." Being the leader, Optimus felt somewhat pathetic for needing rescue from his team. Selfish feelings like that weren't needed here though, and he knew that. All that mattered now was seeing to it that Sam continued living. "You're going into shock. Sam, just take deep breaths. It's going to be all right."
They only had fifteen minutes left. For another few minutes, Sam breathing pace quickened and Prime began to panic. However, Sam took a while to regain control over his body and Optimus watched as his chest began to slowly return to normal. His head flopped to the side to look at the Peterbilt, "Did you say...we're being rescued?"
"Yes. We just need to last a little bit longer. Sam, I—" He shut his trap instantly with an audible noise as two aircrafts roared into the warehouse through the roof and the cruiser came through a hole in the wall (that Optimus didn't remember seeing before) and skidded to a halt.
They all transformed into their robot forms, looking forlorn and angry. Megatron tromped over to Optimus and grabbed him by the jaw in the same places he'd already caused dents. His grasp actually pulled Prime's legs up to support himself, which his joints responded with cries of defiance and pain. "It seems that, unfortunately, we'll have to move things a bit ahead of schedule. We've had an uncalled turn of events from those measly Autobots. Thanks to your stupid friends, I've lost connections to my Communications Officer."
Optimus wasn't very afraid, even when standing face-to-face with one of the most menacing faces in existence. His faceplate reformed into its place to stop himself from spitting oil at his brother. "I couldn't have possibly been a part of the Autobots' plan. I've been here all along, Megatron. You know that."
"Don't lie to me, Optimus!" He said as he threw a punch into the Autobot's jaw with a sharp metallic clang to it. Sam screamed his name from somewhere behind the Decepticon. It didn't hurt so much, as tired as Optimus was. Had it been three days ago, it would've made his receptors scream with pain, but now it was just a dull feeling like a toothache. "I know you contacted them the minute the jamming signal vanished. We can't waste any time now...they're on their way. Starscream, Barricade, get the boy up on his feet. Make him stand."
"You guys better hurry. We've got a lot of trouble headed our way right now." Optimus hoped the Autobots would get his signal. He bet his Spark on it. Twelve minutes left.
Sam began seething as Barricade and Starscream grabbed him under his arms and forced his weight onto his broken limbs. He looked as if he could snap in half under the weight; his legs wobbled with uncertainty and it seemed that it took every nerve in Sam's body to keep himself from screaming again. He wasn't going to go out pitifully. If he had to die, he was at least going to be a man about it. His legs burned and screamed and ached and cried to him—he wouldn't be able to stand very long. He still had two firm supports under each arm in case they decided to give way unexpectedly.
"You shouldn't have gotten involved with him, Prime. It would've just been you here, to rot in your pathetic grave. What is that Earth phrase though? Misery needs company?" Optimus stared at Megatron inquisitively as he continued to rant with a grin spreading on his maniacal face. His finger morphed to form a blade, something he'd never seen him do before, and turned toward Sam. Realization hit Prime a second too late. His receptors picked up a shout of Sam's name; it was his own vocalizers but they sounded mysteriously unrecognizable.
There was a loud shink noise and a squelching of wet, thick tissue as Megatron gutted his pallid, shaking body. Sam sharply inhaled, a hand going straight to the hole in his stomach once Megatron slowly pulled the scarlet covered weapon out with an audibly disgusting noise. Optimus saw the blood flow down his bruised, beaten skin onto his poorly fastened jeans, pooling in a stain in the already crusted fabric. He lifted his eyes to Optimus and chuckled with a sickening gurgle, "It's going to be all right, Optimus. It'll..." His eyes lolled to the back of his head as he crumpled in the Decepticons' grip. He was just a rag doll, trashed and tossed aside the minute they were done playing with him. They quickly let go of him, and his body fell to the floor once again.
"Sadly, he's still alive. I didn't want to ruin my memoir...so we'll have to let him hemorrhage."
"Sam!" Optimus shouted again, straining his vocalizers to the point of breaking. He felt like he had the strength of ten Autobots, and the chains were nothing to him anymore. The concrete behind him crumbled, the links were beginning to split. The hydraulics in his arms and legs hissed—the wounds were no longer pained. His servos whirred loudly as he pulled, yanked, thrashed, and struggled to break free. Sam was dying. He was breaking his promise; he had to keep Sam safe. Keep Sam Witwicky safe. Megatron glanced at him with surprise but quickly wiped the expression off of his face.
"And now for you." He said, a hand clawing at Prime's armor plates to his Spark chamber. He was going to rip it out, Optimus was well aware of this, but that didn't stop him. The concrete was ripping away from the walls and was taking the chains with it. He felt a cold hand grab hold of his life force; the force Sam had given to him. You're not going to get it, you slagtard. You aren't going to slagging get it, you piece of scrap, his mind was screaming.
The wires around the chamber were like a domino tower, breaking quickly and cleanly overtop one another as Megatron began to rip the core right out of Optimus Prime's body. One of Optimus' hands was lighter, and he hadn't realized that he'd broken the support right off of the wall. The chains dangled loosely around his thick wrist like a bracelet—his hand was free. It balled into a fist as soon as Prime found the ability to control it and struck his brother across the face without a moment's hesitation. The Decepticon stumbled backward to be caught by Barricade, shock written on his ugly mug. If he found his voice, it would've been stuttering "how did you—?!"
Two minutes now. They'd be here any second.
"Prime, you vile pathetic excuse for a machine!" He jumped back onto his feet and Optimus watched as a jagged claw reached again for his core. Prime's free hand grabbed onto Megatron's fore arm in an attempt to push him off, but compared to his brother, he was drained and much weaker. Megatron snarled and hissed like a cobra, "You actually think you can defeat me as you are, Prime? Your circuits must be fried!"
The joints in his arms popped and he knew his strength wouldn't last for much longer. That spurt of energy and adrenaline had disappeared and he felt insanely tired once again. His repair systems warned him of a pressure overload on his hand, but Optimus quickly turned the warning off. He didn't need to be reminded. The cold hand touched his core again with only two or three cords still holding it in place, sending shudders up Prime's spine.
Megatron chuckled evilly, almost as if death itself was on his breath, "I'm going to enjoy watching you die again, Optimus."
Optimus' optics lifted to a window sill behind Megatron, smugness consuming his face. Ratchet and Ironhide stood poised, signaling him to give the order when he was ready. How can the Decepticons not sense the Autobots, he wondered. He laughed back and nodded, giving them the okay. "I think not."
Megatron's optics widened too late and was knocked away from Optimus by a blast of energon to a chink in the armor on his shoulder. The bulky Decepticon spun around angrily, sputtering curses and words in Cybertronian. The twins, Bumblebee, Ironhide, Ratchet, Sideswipe, and Jolt all came barreling in through the wall behind Sam, rubble narrowly avoiding the bleeding body that lie on the floor. "Barricade, Starscream, attack!"
Ironhide and Sideswipe both opened fire on Megatron to draw his attention away from Prime. The leader snarled under his breath, clawed hands groping and swinging through the air to protect his body from any more attacks. The GM truck grabbed onto the tank's arm and flipped him over onto his back. Sideswipe's Cybertanium arm swords stabbed him through the open spots in his armor on his arm, and the figure screeched in horrifying anger and agony. He wouldn't be able to use the fusion cannon if he didn't have both arms at his disposal.
"Ironhide, look out!" Sideswipe exclaimed pointedly.
Ironhide went flying onto his stomach, a large flaming gash on his lower torso. As Sideswipe watched his partner distractedly, Megatron fired from his pinned arm, hitting the Stingray underneath his chest armor. He ripped the arm swords out of his thick armor, growling in pain as he did, and flung them at their owner. Sideswipe dodged the projectiles just barely, and quickly reattached them to his body. "This isn't going so well, 'Hide."
'Hide patted the flames out on his body, moaning as if he'd just been awoken rudely from a nice nap. "I know, but we have to keep him busy. Keep going!"
Optimus ripped his other arm free, ignoring the jagged pain in his wrists as it pulled against the Cybertronian metal. He fell to his knees, more knives stabbing his receptors with overwhelming agony, and quickly did away with the chains wrapped around his ankles. "Ratchet!" He yelled over the battlefield, "Ratchet, see to Sam! Let the others handle this!"
Ratchet nodded in understanding and rushed to the boy's side, changing into his William Petersen form to assess the damage better. Optimus dragged himself on wounded legs to Ratchet's side, serving as a shield from any flying shrapnel or attacks while the doctor tended to his patient. The older man scowled, pressing a firm hand to the hole in Sam's stomach, "He's lost so much blood. Prime, apply pressure to the wound to stop the flow, please." A large metal finger pressed against the hole gently as he was told. The doctor overlooked his lower body and legs, "He's been through a lot. That wound in his stomach has allowed shrapnel inside his body and is puncturing his organs. Sam doesn't have very long at this rate."
"Ratchet, do something. I'm not going to let him die here." Optimus replied gravely. Ratchet took the spectacles off of his nose and tucked them into his breast pocket as he sighed. "Okay, Prime. I'll see what I can do."
A shot, then a roll, then another shot, then another roll. Ironhide dodged most of Megatron's attacks with Matrix-like speed. Only three hits actually punctured his armor, but he didn't let that stop him. Sideswipe, meanwhile, snuck up on the tank from behind and threw an arm sword in the back of his neck.
Megatron howled in agony, ripping the sword out as well as a couple wires and pieces of metal from his own systems and bent it into unrecognizable metal. Sideswipe used his only other sword to shove it through a spot on his arm he'd gotten before, causing it to go limp entirely. "I cut off the system to his arm, 'Hide! We've got a minute until his repair system fixes it! Now it's your turn!"
Turrets on the pick up truck's shoulders clicked open and fired high-heat sabot rounds at the Decepticon. It was the first time Ironhide actually fought the leader without Optimus' help, and he was doing quite a good job. However the pain, Megatron didn't stop. He grabbed onto Sideswipe's arm by the sword and Ironhide stopped the assault. The tank pinned Sideswipe's other arm under his foot and began to pull, looking at 'Hide with intensely menacing optics. Ironhide froze. Sideswipe shook his head and shouted, "Ironhide, don't worry! Go on! We've got him where we want him!"
Megatron's neck was leaking lubricants, one of his arms was out of service, and pieces of armor were hanging loosely. Despite his weak position, he knew how to intimidate someone else. His good hand snaked around Sideswipe's arm, tugging until Ironhide began to see wires pulled to their extremes and a few snapped abruptly.
"I could break him. Right now." Megatron threatened. Sparks began to fly from Sideswipe's arm socket, but he didn't make it apparent on his face. He was vigorously shaking his head, urging Ironhide to keep going.
Ironhide's turrets closed with a clack, and the Autobot's shoulders sunk. The force on Sideswipe's arm didn't seem to lessen and the sparks only seemed to worsen. Megatron purred. "Such a smart Autobot. I think I'm going to kill him anyway."
"No!" Ironhide's cannons jerked back up inhumanly fast and fired, each shot hitting Megatron directly in the other arm socket. The bulky shape broke apart from the tank's body and collided with the floor with a sound of scraping metal. Megatron stumbled, completely defenseless. Sideswipe managed to slide out from underneath him and onto his feet again.
"Wow, you're pretty quick on the draw. Thanks, big time."
"Is dat all you got? Didn't get enough whoop-ass last time we took care of you, ugly?" Mudflap incessantly shouted insults and curses at the F-22 Raptor, who seemed to have the same amount of trouble with the twins as last time they'd fought. He was wise to their game, however, and would catch one of the twins as they tried to maneuver around him with a shot or two of energon. His hand caught onto Skids' left leg jerkily and flung him into the rafters, almost into the ceiling. Mudflap retaliated with a shot at his neck wiring, and Starscream toppled over momentarily. The Decepticon got onto his feet unsteadily and fired at the red Chevrolet as he rolled along, dodging several fired shots until one blast hit him painfully in the back of his leg. Jolt joined the Twins as soon as he possibly could as he saw them both fall, one after the other.
The Chevrolet Volt helped Mudflap up as he shook the pain off, cursing at the Raptor in slang. Skids fell with a clatter through the upper machinery, and groaned as he got back up and stood alongside his brother, "Man, this guy's a pain in my aft!"
"They gotten better since last time. Maybe dat's how they beat Prime." Mudflap replied. Skids shook his head, "Naw, man, they ganged up on Prime! Ain't nobody who can beat Optimus one-on-one."
"Guys, we've got bigger things to deal with right now." Jolt scolded as he shielded both of them from a surprise missile Starscream had released. His blue paint job was peeling, no longer the glossy perfection it once was. "Bitch among yourselves later." His hands formed two large tasers, definitely big enough to down a transformer, and charged the enemy.
As the twins continued the onslaught of attacks on Starscream, they had come up with a bet between the two of them. Whoever took the Raptor down quicker got a one-on-one chance against Optimus, as if to prove their point. So they took their time, dodging and mocking and shooting at the Decepticon, not wanting to be the one who would win the bet. They both hoped Jolt would be the one to do it. They'd tell him about the bet later, they agreed.
"You've gotten better," The Mustang growled as he wiped a trickle of oil from his mouth. Bumblebee bounced from one foot to the other, fists up and ready in front of his face. The Camaro stared warily. "I'm still stronger than you, Bumblebee; no matter how much training those other Autobots have given you, I'll always be better."
His hands met Bumblebee's in a deadlock, a test of strength. Bumblebee knew he wouldn't be able to overpower Barricade; what the Mustang said about being stronger was true. He could feel his servos beginning to ache and the yellow Camaro took in a deep breath to hold himself firmly. His feet began to slide backwards as the Decepticon pushed him back against a wall. The police cruiser cackled, "You're weak! You fight for the weak!"
His yellow plates scraped against the concrete, his car-door wings flat on the wall behind him. He could feel it cracking behind him as Barricade pushed harder against him. His grounding started to slip. Bumblebee managed to lift a foot and kick Barricade in the gut hard enough to surprise him. The Mustang's grip loosened and Bee pushed him backwards as well as himself away from the wall. Barricade's hand transformed into a whirring, spiked wheel, and he charged toward the Autobot with a roar. Those training sessions certainly improved his fighting techniques. The Camaro jumped out of harm's way and grabbed Barricade's wheel-less hand, shoving it against his back with a sickening crack of metal.
"...You're the weak one, buster." Bumblebee's radio spat at the interrogator. His vocalizers warbled until his own familiar voice broke free of the rusted speaker, "I fight for the ones I love."
The Mustang writhed and struggled and cursed but Bumblebee didn't let go. A spiked wheel came rushing at his face from over Barricade's shoulder, but he ducked. There wasn't much one could do without seeing where exactly his enemy was so Bee had the advantage here. His hand shot through the Ford's back like a knife through butter and wrapped around his Spark chamber.
"You disgusting, worthless little—!"
'Getting the core of a transformer is a sure-fire way to get rid of them once and for all.' Ironhide had reminded him several times. With a movement unfamiliar to Bumblebee, he curled his hand into a fist around Barricade's core, crushing it with a mercilessness he'd never had before. Its warmth slowly waned to an icy cold and liquid began to seep between his fingers, thick yet runny like maple syrup. Bumblebee pulled his hand back out, eager to let go of the destroyed core. The struggling immediately stopped and an audible last breath escaped the Decepticon as his optics flickered to gray. The wheel came to a weak, pathetic stop and the body in Bee's grip slackened before he allowed it to fall.
Sam! Bumblebee remembered what it was that they had come for. Optimus and Ratchet stood over an unmoving Sam across the warehouse, past the ongoing battles with the Twins and Ironhide. The guardian felt a sudden tug at his Spark—he needed to get to Sam, he had to be at Sam's side. Without hesitation, the Camaro was on the move through the battlefield.
Megatron's repaired arm came back to life and reattached his disconnected one to its proper socket. Ironhide and Sideswipe were helping the Twins momentarily, shooting at an unsuspecting Starscream. Starscream was too weak to get on his feet now, bombarded by round after round of shots. Large parts continued to break off of his body and he fired blindly, hitting both of the Twins and even Jolt. Taking advantage of the cease-fire, Starscream changed into his Raptor form and escaped his encirclement of Autobots. He flew over Ironhide and Sideswipe's heads towards his leader and their attention followed him.
Megatron glanced around and slunk behind them towards Barricade's corpse, a barrel aimed at Optimus' back and prepared to fire. However, the F-22 crashed into his side mid-transformation and Megatron's blast was knocked into the wrong direction and Ironhide turned on him with the barrels of his cannons glowing and humming. "Not so fast, Megatron!"
The tank quickly reached at the Ford's body and brought it up in front of him defensively, allowing him to take the shots Ironhide fired instead. The police cruiser jerked under each shot and pieces of metal went flying but Megatron remained unharmed. He muttered to himself huskily, "You've finally made yourself useful, Barricade."
"Lord! Megatron! Help!" Starscream choked out again weakly, a fourth of his face smoldering and hissing with white-hot metal. "We...must fall back!"
"I agree, Starscream, we've done all we can here. Retreat!" He shouted from behind the dented makeshift armor that was once a fellow Decepticon.
"Ironhide, stop. It's no good." Sideswipe reported. The GM's weapons droned down with a whine. The two Decepticons reassembled into aircraft shapes and shot through the ceiling, allowing rubble to fall upon the unsuspecting Autobots. Barricade's body was left behind in a destroyed, massacred heap. Ironhide and Sideswipe coughed through the dust and scanned the area.
"Damn." Ironhide said, looking up at the figures that grew smaller and smaller in the darkening sky. "I hate it when they fucking do that."
"Cowards!" Mudflap shouted after them.
Skids joined him. "Decepticon punk-asses!"
The Twins were quickly elbowed by Ironhide and Jolt as Sideswipe pointed them over to Sam who was surrounded by Optimus' hulking figure and Ratchet. It didn't look very good. Ratchet was small compared to Prime, sitting bent over Sam's body with his ear against his chest.
"Sam." Optimus repeated, "Sam, please."
Small shards of metal that Ratchet had managed to get out laid on a piece of cloth beside his body. Every open wound was properly bandaged in an attempt to save what little blood was left in Sam's pale body. Ratchet called Jolt over and connected a small device to one of his electrical outputs. "Clear!"
Sam's body bent up towards the sky but his eyes remained closed. Ratchet put two fingers against the boy's neck and shook his head, "Damn. No pulse. Rise the voltage, Jolt. Clear!"
He gave another jerk and another lifeless smack back onto the ground.
"Clear!" Again, he felt no pulse.
Bumblebee's vocalizers whined in grief, and quickly turned his away. Optimus brought his head close to Sam and spoke pleadingly. "Don't give up, Sam, do you hear me? I need you. You have to get up. Sam...Sam...."
