Where the Lonely Ones Roam Chapter 21, a transformers/beast wars fanfic

And it's your biggest fear

The only monster

Is the monster in your mirror

And they'll tell you once again

"It's all inside your troubled little head"

There's no monsters in your closet

Or underneath your bed

Stop your worrying

It's only make believe

Something you can't see

It's only make believe

Make Believe ~ Haley Rose

A tampering alert chimed in Red Alert's HUD. He was up and out of his quarters in a spark pulse tracing the tampering tag. Someone was in the security room trying to access the core files, the very spark of his security code. He felt a wash of heat as the glitch started to well up, he wasn't full awake just yet and that made it easier for the glitch to get a foothold in his processor. It might be Wheeljack or Perceptor. He had changed the code recently and hadn't told them. Sometimes they did updates and ran defrag sequences for him when he was supposed to be recharging. Or they had an infiltration.

Decepticons

Decepticons could be in the security room. He tried to think of the best point of entrance. They hadn't had any shipments or docked recently which meant they had to have a small stealth ship nearby. Optimus had made him shut down the ventilation scanners because Ultra Magnus thought they were excessive.

Because he is a Decepticon

Red Alert shook his head. Optimus Prime was not a Decepticon. Ravage or Laserbeak or Buzzsaw…any one of Soundwave's symbionts could have crawled in and now they were in the very spark of the Ark trying to access codes. And none of Blaster's symbionts were permitted to roam the halls. Steeljaw was the one who always kept an extra optic and nose on the halls for such invasion. His spark pulse accelerated and another prickly wash of heat hit him as he ran down the halls checking every face he passed against the Ark's roster.

Decepticon

He didn't even bother with the regular security code to get in, punched in his override and drew his weapon before clearing the door. "Don't. Move," he snapped. His vision fuzzed when the glitch tried to take him over. If there was one there were bound to be others. The stealth ship would have already hailed Nemesis to give their location.

Ultra Magnus glared at him from the console. "Soldier, drop your weapon, I am a superior officer." He stood, he was taller than Red Alert and much wider, the room felt smaller. Red Alert's hand twitched.

Decepticon

"Get away from the console, what are you doing?" he hissed trying to breathe, trying to keep the glitch from completely taking over. But Ultra Magnus was trying to get into restricted code, the spark of the Ark's security system. He'd been trying to shut down almost half of the security network since he walked onboard.

Decepticon

Ultra Magnus straightened and walked right up to Red Alert, looming over him. He could feel the heat of sparks snapping between his horns, his spark pulse was too fast, hammering in his chest so hard it hurt. "That was a direct order, soldier. Stand down or there will be repercussions."

DecepticonDecepticon

"What are you doing in the security system," Red Alert screamed. His hand twitched again, his intakes couldn't cool his rapidly heating systems. He could see the shadows from sparks playing out across Ultra Magnus.

Ultra Magnus.

DecepticonDecepticon

How had Optimus chosen him? He hadn't been part of that decision. Had Magnus been notified before Red Alert could check his records? What if he had changed something, Soundwave would know. Soundwave would know how carefully he'd look.

DecepticonDecepticon

"You and this system are a liability. Once these codes get to a real security team they'll come up with a better system for the ship." Ultra Magnus said. He reached for Red Alert's weapon. Red Alert's vision fuzzed again, a bright snap of light he felt and heard echoed in his head. He couldn't breathe. His spark ached and the glitch overwhelmed him. Exporting code without any authorization.

Decepticon.

Kill the Decepticon.

oOo

Jazz, Red's on one on B deck, Blaster radioed. Jazz left his hiding place in the little used wash racks on L deck and sprinted for a lift. He'd only spent the first septorn in his quarters, long enough to get what he needed together and give the impression that he was still recharging there. But the room with its one exit hadn't felt safe. He didn't like being boxed in so now he just roamed the halls.

Ratchet, you en route to Red, Jazz asked.

The medic's acidic reply had Jazz running faster, Fragging trying not to get gored right now.

Jazz got to B deck and didn't have to ask where Red Alert was, it sounded like a 'Con had gotten onboard from the yells he was hearing. "Move," he snapped at mechs crowding the hall. They jumped out of his way.

He came up on them in a wide branch in the hall. Red Alert whirled around snarling at Blaster, Wheeljack, and Ratchet, optics white and continuous whips of electricity surging between his horns. His frame shook, exhalations of superheated air huffing out of him as he lowered his horns, stance ready to charge. Ratchet and Wheeljack stepped back giving themselves a few extra steps to dodge any strikes.

"Red," Jazz said slowly. "Red Alert, easy now. It's me, it's Jazz." He had dealt with his share of hair trigger situations but he had never seen Red Alert in such frenzy. Red Alert swung around to the sound of his voice and the plates along his back hissed open, giving his spine more flexibility so it could absorb the impact shock of whatever he hit. "Red Alert, calm. Calm down. Breathe with me, mech," Jazz said in the same soft tone. "It's Jazz, you know me. You wanna go somewhere safe, mech? You wanna go to security for a breem so you can think?"

"I t-t-think," Red Alert stuttered, the glitch messing with his vocal processor. "D-decepticons." His optics flashed diamond white and his whole body jerked. Jazz stayed where he was when he would have liked to take Red Alert's hand. He'd never seen the security officer so far gone.

He didn't look at the other officers but sent a message. What in the Unmaker's fragging pit did you do? "Red," he said out loud, "come here, Red. Come here with me, we'll go somewhere safe. Somewhere away from all the noise and light, all right. Just come to me, I know you're scared."

Ratchet glared at Jazz. Ultra Magnus tried to access the system core to copy the code for export. He's bleeding in the hall with Hoist right now.

Red Alert turned a circle and didn't see a way out of the hall. His mouth opened but no words came out, he panted hard his hands shaking. They had either gotten his primary weapon away from him or he'd had enough sanity left to drop it before the glitch completely overtook him, but Jazz knew he still had a secondary weapon. He had no idea where it was, Red Alert never kept his weapons in the same place long. The last time he'd seen it, it had been in a leg compartment. Jazz kept his optics on Red Alert's hands. The mech was a damn quick draw and a good shot. "Red, buddy, are you listening to me?" Jazz asked, shooting Wheeljack a deadly glare when he tried to inch closer. The engineer retreated and Red Alert snarled when he caught the movement. "'Jack, move!" Jazz saw Red Alert's hand flinch to his shoulder a second before he had a gun in his hand. Wheeljack hit the floor and the shot seared the wall.

Red Alert whipped around and fired at Jazz. He was not well enough to be ducking fire, but he'd pushed his body through a lot worse. He dove toward Red Alert and came up out of a roll, grabbing Red Alert's wrist and twisting it back until he dropped the gun. He almost had his chest gored before he got clear of the red mech. A sharp horn caught his shoulder and threw him to the floor. He was up and moving in a second, getting out of easy reach. Red Alert wouldn't risk turning his back on the others long enough to go after Jazz.

"Jazz!" Ratchet shouted. Jazz rolled to the side thinking Red Alert had decided he was a dangerous enough target to pursue but before he gained his feet a horrible shriek vibrated off the walls. Jazz staggered back, his sensor net unprepared for the onslaught.

Ultra Magnus pinned Red Alert to the floor, one hand holding a horn so Red Alert couldn't gore him, and the other trying to wrestle Red Alert's hands into cuffs. Red Alert screamed again with enough terror to make Jazz unsteady on his feet. "Get off!" Jazz screamed at Ultra Magnus.

Solaris, half the size of Magnus, came from behind Jazz and scruffed the red and blue mech and yanked him off Red Alert's cowering form. "Red," Jazz said hoarsely. "Red, Red, it's okay. It's okay now. It's okay." Ignoring the very real threat of being ran through by Red Alert's razor sharp horns, Jazz kneeled next to Red Alert. Activating the magnets in his hands he didn't touch Red Alert as he twitched and trembled but held them just above his overheated frame. Red Alert's optics stayed white with glitch and fear and he continued to shake but the high sounds of pain and fear he was making began to subside. "It's okay, Red. It's okay. Easy now."

Jazz rested his hands on Red Alert's frame and he snarled and flinched but his head dropped back to the floor in a second, exhaustion finally overcoming terror. With slow jerky movements he rolled onto his side. "I know," Jazz whispered. "I know you don't like being scared, Red. Calm down, just breathe with me, mech. Just breathe." He stroked his hand down Red Alert's spinal strut like he'd seen Prowl do countless times before and the red and grey mech relaxed more. He shook, but scooted a little closer to Jazz.

Noiselessly, Ratchet kneeled on Red Alert's other side, optics flashing as he scanned the mech's systems. Red Alert was far from relaxed but his optics rolled back and he passed out. Ratchet ran his hands over Red Alert's horns, the hum of other scanners coming online blending with Jazz's magnets.

"Release me now, soldier, you're looking at a court martial," Ultra Magnus snapped, shaking Solaris off.

Solaris didn't blink. "You ever dealt with a paranoia glitch before?" he asked, picking up the weapon Jazz had gotten away from Red Alert. "You don't fragging touch them until they touch you and you sure as frag don't come up behind them and drag them to the floor and hold them down. You're lucky you're both still alive." Solaris was normally unfazed by anything. Jazz had seen the mech checking the weather while in the middle of a firefight. "Flinch" was not part of the old Poly's vocabulary, but his voice was thick with anger.

Jazz picked Red Alert's head up off the floor and cradled it in his lap, stroking the thick cords of his neck. His frame continued to tremble even as heat poured off of him. "Giving him a sedative to keep him down longer," Ratchet said, ignoring the argument between Solaris and Ultra Magnus. His hand pressed against Red Alert's chest over his spark. He shook his head and pulled out a needle and vial. "Spark pulse still twice what it should be, he's still glitching."

"Officer on deck," Ultra Magnus shouted, making Jazz's sore audios hurt. Magnus was the only one who snapped a quick salute as Optimus and Ironhide came down the hall.

"How bad?" Optimus asked softly kneeling next to Red Alert's hot frame. Jazz pressed his head against Red's listening to his raspy breaths.

Ratchet rubbed his optic ridge and stroked Red Alert's chest again. "Worst I've seen from him, maybe from any. Ultra Magnus was trying to tamper with the security network. Red is convinced your new second is a Decepticon spy." He rubbed the base of one of Red Alert's horns. "I don't know if he's going to recharge it off, Prime," he said softly.

"Sir," Ultra Magnus said. Solaris pointedly stood between him and Red Alert with his arms crossed. Optimus gave Ultra Magnus his tired attention. "I will say with respect, sir, your security director is a danger to this ship and her crew. I was attacked without provocation."

Solaris snorted. "You think trying to hack and copy the security code doesn't count as provocation? He's got a paranoia glitch, that's the stuff his nightmares are made of." He flicked his hand, dismissing the red and blue mech.

Optimus stood looking a lot older than Jazz thought he should. "Red Alert's security protocols come with a price, Ultra Magnus," Optimus said sadly. "Any modifications you wish to make to the system will have to be approved and implemented by Red Alert."

Ultra Magnus' optics narrowed. "That is highly inefficient and illogical. We leave the security to one mech. And if something happens now while he is offline and sedated, what are we to do? He is a hazard in more ways than one. I have worked on numerous ships and in bases in which a team of security personnel keep the security network up and running. The Ark is the only ship that does not function in this way."

"There is validity in your concerns, Ultra Magnus," Optimus conceded. "But they do not outweigh the benefits of having Red Alert in charge of security. All systems have flaws, we just have to pick the ones that work best for us."

oOo

"Optimus," Ratchet said standing from his chair. "You can't. It's Red Alert, yes he glitches, but this is—" Red Alert was still under the close supervision of the entire crew after being released from the med bay two septorns earlier. He still snapped and glitched and seemed to be losing touch with reality every orn. They needed to have a serious discussion about his wellbeing, but not like this.

Optimus sat back in his chair and rubbed his face with both hands. "I know," he interrupted. "I know, but my hands are tied Ratchet. Ultra Magnus put in the court martial forms and now that everything is on record…" He made a helpless sound not befitting his large frame. "If I veto this what message does that send?" He stared at the wall looking a decacycle older. "Ultra Magnus wants to pursue this, Ratchet. The only reason I haven't had to even bring it up is because Prowl never put anything on record, but it's out there now. He attacked, he tried to kill, Ultra Magnus."

"He has a glitch!" Ratchet seethed. "He can only fragging control it so much and Ultra Magnus was tampering with the system specifically to send it to mechs unknown, you don't think he was fragging provoked?" Ratchet felt his systems winding up to the point his battlefield protocols almost came online.

Optimus rubbed his forehead again.

"What's he going for?" Ratchet asked. Red Alert had spent fifteen centicycles aboard the Ark keeping her and her crew safe. And one new policy obsessed SIC wasn't going to burn that down. Between the Twins, Wheeljack, and Blaster they needed as much security to keep track of the crew as they did looking out for infiltration and sabotage.

"Prison, ten centicycles." Ratchet thought his audios shorted out. He had no idea what was on his face, but whatever the expression was, Optimus locked the door. "Ratchet, calm down."

"Don't you fragging tell me to calm down," each word grew in intensity until he shouted. "Ten centicycles, who the frag does Ultra Magnus think he is, you? Frag him to the Pit and back, say you lost the fragging documents."

"Ratchet…"

"You're not taking him. Send him to some little outpost for a decacyle and let him do as he pleases, but you're not sending him to some glitched prison. He will die, Prime. He will not survive. The glitch will kill him."

oOo

Red Alert screamed and thrashed, optics blazing white and sparks snapping between his horns. Tall but with a light frame it took three guards to wrestle his screaming frame onto the transport ship. One with the express purpose of holding his razor sharp horns to keep the two holding his arms and legs from getting gored. The onboard medic looked like he was two fathoms in over his head and shot Ratchet a look. Ratchet continued glaring murder at Ultra Magnus standing off to the side.

"They can't do this," Smokescreen whispered. "It will kill him, that kind of prison. He's not a murderer," anger warmed his voice. "Is there any medical exemption—"

"No," Ratchet snapped. "You think I didn't fragging look." He almost felt bad when Smokescreen cringed but not enough to stop glaring at Ultra Magnus. He was pretty sure the only thing keeping him from putting a scalpel through the SIC's optic was his Do No Harm coding. And even that was a tenuous barrier. Red Alert's screams were nudging his systems toward activating his defense protocols. On a normal orn, he could throw wrenches and welders and whatever else he wanted because Do No Harm kept him from actually throttling his patients. But if he or one of his patients was in imminent, life threatening danger, there was an override triggered that allowed him to beat the ever loving slag out of whatever triggered them. And Red Alert was one of his frequent patients. Red Alert twisted his head hard almost throwing the guard off balance.

"Move," Jazz snapped, pushing between Wheeljack and Ratchet.

He approached the transport and shoved one of the guards back. Red Alert still shrieked and tried to get his arms and legs loose, the forced confinement, strange mechs, and fear kicking his glitch into overdrive. One of the guards went to yell at Jazz but the small Polyhexian snarled with enough venom to make Wheeljack flinch back. The guards backed up a step and left Red Alert on the ground to thrash and scream. Jazz kneeled next to him, hands not touching but hovering just above his over taxed frame.

Red Alert's head fell back, breath ripping in and out of him at an alarming rate. The air around him shimmered as heat bled off his frame in waves. Jazz's mouth moved but the soft words didn't reach Ratchet. Red Alert stopped trying to kick and scream and his body relaxed, exhaustion in every line as he continued to pant. Ratchet didn't have to be in Red Alert's systems to see the second he fell into frightened and exhausted recharge. Jazz touched his frame, stroking a soothing hand down his spinal strut.

The guards advanced slowly, like they'd just stumbled on Starscream taking a nap. Jazz growled again and they backed off. Optimus ordered him away from Red Alert with a quiet pained word. Every line on Jazz's body stayed taut with aggression. He snarled something in Polyhexian and whirled around, activating his camouflage armor and becoming hardly more than a ripple of fury in the air.

Ratchet spun on his heel and followed him out, the fury on his face scattering any mechs who happened to be in his way. Stalking to his quarters he wished he could slam the door but settled for throwing his wrench and adding another dent in the wall. He paced back and forth like a caged animal and cursed at everything and nothing. He picked up his wrench and threw it again, sparks arced off the wall.

Without thinking he reached into a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of high grade. He froze when the seal cracked, mind finally catching up to body. He didn't need to drink it. He shouldn't drink it. He finished twisting the cap off and took a long pull. It tasted like plasfire burning his mouth and all the way down to his tanks. He grimaced but didn't put the bottle down. Just for tonight. Just for tonight he wouldn't think anymore.

Just for tonight.

oOo

Prowl dipped his hands into the lukewarm bath and poured the water over the back of his neck down his wing joints. The cold cycle wasn't far off. Already he could feel the sharper bite of cold in the air. It would be a septorn or more before the others felt it since they had such heavy frames, but he knew it was coming. Sliding a damp hand over his shoulder he felt the water tickle his feathers. It was early yet for the ritual cleansing they all did before Dreaming for the cold cycle, but the motions were soothing and brought peace even if he was using normal water.

He had grown to enjoy the quiet joors after Storm Watch and his creator fell into recharge. He could make the bath warmer, but the last time he'd done that ice had formed on his joints before he could dry them. He held a handful of water to his face and let it splash down his chest. Another kel and he would not be the only one up late cleaning. Then their small home would smell like spices and oils as they washed away whatever plagued them most; pain, anger, fear…guilt. Prowl had thought about asking if he could start the cleansing process now so that he might have time to properly peel off the sticky layers of hurt and sorrow that clung to him. That had clung to him for centicycles. He poured water over his neck again and over his wing.

His creator had asked almost too casually if he wanted to try and get a message through to the Ark before Dreaming. Indecision had set in on him like a bad rust infection. He wanted to speak with Red Alert and make certain he was all right, but if Red Alert was beginning to find a balance with the new SIC, if they all were, he didn't want to upend that. But he missed them. Not so much the nicknames and endless documents he had to file, but he missed…them. Blaster and Jazz with their loud music first thing in the morning, the Twins trying to be sly when they were up to something, Wheeljack and Ratchet arguing like an old bonded couple. Beachcomber who always said hello to him and First Aid, Bluestreak, and Bumblebee who liked to watch youngling shows on the holoscreen in the evening. His spark clenched and a new wave of misery washed over him.

Bluestreak.

He stopped washing his wings and stared at his rippling reflection.

Bluestreak.

Jazz.

If there was still loud music in the morning it was only coming from one mech. And if First Aid and Bumblebee still watched the youngling shows it was without Bluestreak's constant narration.

No. He didn't need to hail them. He had failed too many of them.

oOo

A/N: This is your captain speaking, more turbulence incoming. Please remain seated.

Thank you for R/R/F/F!