Spitfire
Chapter XXI
I send this message to any surviving Autobots taking refuge among the stars.
We are here.
We are waiting.
How long ago had it been since he had heard the well-known voice of his long-lost leader, scrambled and punctured with thick static but still undeniably that of Optimus Prime, after years upon years of discouraging silence?
It could not have been very long, not at all, and yet it felt like an eternity had passed since he had begun his desperate search for Optimus and whatever Autobots constituted the mentioned "we" of his message; his search for another world to call home.
While the time he had spent honing in on the coordinates accompanying Prime's message hadn't been a particularly long space of time, the centuries upon centuries before his saving grace had been, and had felt, too long, incredibly long, as well as incredibly lonely.
When Optimus Prime and his fellow soldiers had disappeared during their search for the All Spark ages ago, their spark signatures unexpectedly vanishing from the radar, he had been given permission to do what he did best: track. He had not gone alone, of course, but...
No. Do not think about them. Not now. Later, when you can afford to. When you are home.
The fact that he, of all Autobots, had lost them, literally, did absolutely nothing to boost his morale. Neither did the thought of what had become of them, where they were now, if they were still online at all.
Stop it.
Everything would be all right, though; everything would be fine. Because, despite the dismal state of the centuries past, despite the uncomfortable desolation of traveling without a single friend, despite the guilty ache he experienced constantly for those who had gone astray, there was, finally, a light at the end of the tunnel, a silver lining, in the form of the tiny blue planet that filled his optical vision. It was home to the companions he had missed so much, and it would be to him too, soon enough.
We are here.
We are waiting.
{Countdown to impact: 12:39:02.}
"Kid, as soon as I saw your family, I had to do a double-take, I'm not gonna lie. I mean...Jesus," Simmons threw his hands into the air, letting out a breathless snort of laughter as he walked companionably alongside Tyler's squeaking wheelchair, "Can you say 'Children of the Corn'?"
Tyler wasn't too offended by this statement; it was a true one. In response, he cocked a charming smile Simmon's way, absently propelling himself down the gargantuan hall that led to the base's front room, and shrugged his shoulders. "So...I guess you saw them all, huh?"
"Saw 'em all? I brought 'em all. I didn't have a choice in the matter, either," he added quickly, his palms upended in surrender at the sudden glare Will dealt him. "Dear ol' Mom and Pop seemed to agree that it was best that the kept all the kids in one place, considering what their eldest had gotten into on a damn walk to school."
"I can't keep up with this," Will interrupted from his spot on Ironhide's shoulder. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed shut as he motioned for Simmons to explain with a quick wave of his hand. "I mean, what do you...'Children of the Corn'? All of them? I'm not following you."
"I am not, either," Optimus Prime rumbled. He brought the odd group to a halt, stopping far enough away from the room's doorway as to not be heard by whoever might be inside. Crossing his thick arms over his chassis, he eyed Simmons expectantly, awaiting further explanation.
When he was met with silence, a sad attempt at doe-eyes and an uneasy smile, he felt a sudden sinking in his spark.
Uh oh. Letting out a burst of air from his intakes, he dropped his arms back to his sides, where they hung weakly. "I asked for you to alert the children's parents as to what has happened..." he prompted, one optic ridge raised.
"Uh huh...yeah, yeah, you did, but..I..."
"...You what?"
"Well, I...I went a few steps further." Snatching his cap from his head, Simmons began to wring it nervously in his hands. "I...I tried. I did. I tried to explain what had happened to their kids, but...y'know, they didn't really believe it. When I flashed my badge at 'em, they sort...sort of realized that somethin' had happened, but...wouldn't give in, even though they recognized me on top of it...and, they didn't want proof so much as they wanted to hear the explanation from...from the Autobots themselves, and, obviously, they wanted to see their brats too, to know they're all right. I know you guys ain't moving these kids anywhere, so..." He shrugged, absently fixing his cap back onto his head. "I brought their parents here."
"Fair enough," Optimus replied, looking considerably less tense. The situation wasn't nearly as problematic as Simmons had made it sound; in fact, the ex-Sector Seven operative had done exactly as he'd asked. "That's - "
"You...Uh, you didn't let me finish."
"Ah." I should have guessed. "Go on, then."
Simmons nodded sheepishly, glancing down at his loafered feet. "Blondie's parents," he continued, jerking a thumb in Tyler's direction; the self-proclaimed King of the Cyborgs glanced up, his brows raised curiously at the mention of his mother and father, "insisted on bringin' along all of their other tots. That's what I was trying to say before. Tyler's family decided it would be 'in their best interest' to come as a whole."
Zachary and Sam, who were flanking Tyler, exchanged a wary glance, and Sam leaned over to tug the bulky senior's torn sleeve.
"Uh...how many brothers and sisters are we talking about here?" he asked.
Tyler, without the slightest hint of embarrassment, counted off on his fingers, as though he'd forgotten how many siblings he shared a house with. "...Five."
Sam blinked. "Five...you included?"
"Nope. Six, me included."
There was silence as, very slowly, the elder Autobots turned to glare at Simmons, who shifted uneasily beneath their bright blue gazes. He glanced in desperation at Will, who wore a rather stormy expression himself. Realizing he wasn't going to get any aid from the army captain, Simmons shrugged his shoulders stubbornly.
"Look, all right? I did what I could! With parents, there's no room for arguing, and I kinda figured they had a right to be a little protective of their kids with what's happened! On...on the bright side, ginger's parents only popped out one!"
"Hey!"
Optimus let out another soft sigh, redirecting the conversation. "I thank you for what you have done, Simmons. We will just have hope that what we discuss, and...well..." He glanced down at himself. "...What we are, does not scare the sparklings."
Tyler gave a nod and waggled his finger playfully at the Autobots, causing Antonia and Mikaela, closely grouped with Pilar, to smirk as they watched him. "Best behavior!" he instructed primly, receiving rather ugly glares from Ratchet and Ironhide, though Bumblebee flashed him a thumb's up of agreement, his door-wings fluttering with excitement.
Jazz was already wandering down the hallway, his optic visor bright with curiosity. He was nearly at the corner by the time the odd collection noticed he had disappeared.
He glanced back at the others and flashed them a charming smile. "What'cha waiting for? Come on!"
Ratchet and Ironhide reluctantly turned toward the second-in-command, their shoulders slumped at the thought of hyperactive human younglings in their immediate future. Trailing the two elder mechs in a small group were Pilar, Antonia, who had wriggled away from her mother so that she could walk, unsteadily, on her own, Tyler, his wheelchair squeaking incessantly, Zachary and Agent Simmons. Will was still sitting atop Ironhide's shoulder plating, patting the mech's head companionably as he attempted to convince him that it couldn't be that bad.
Bumblebee, who had stopped to gather up his charges, jumped with surprise when Optimus Prime gripped the top of his helmeted head, carefully spinning him around to face him. Sam and Mikaela glanced up at the Autobot leader from their place in their guardian's cupped hands.
"I have a favor to ask of the three of you."