Here are your usual beginning of story notifications: I, nor roudyredd own any of the Transformers characters (though we may have various objects or animals that may hold their names). All of that belong to Hasbro and all the buyers of the names and rights and all that rot. Definitely not us.
This story revolves around OC's. If you don't care for OC's, this is probably not a fic for you.
Scatterblade,Charlie and Nate: belong to roudyredd
Illusory and Marc "Tibs" Tiegan: belong to me
Others to come.
Event Twenty-Five
Scattered illusions are the images to which we cling in times of great distress.
Illusory made her way around the base, looking for Charlie and doing her best to ignore the concerned looks of those around her. By now, everyone knew what had happened to Scatterblade, and likewise knew that Illusory had refused to leave his side during the ordeal.
Stumbling into the rec room to find some energon, Illusory was somewhat surprised to see Charlie there. "Hey," she greeted quietly.
Charlie had stayed in the rec room, having gone there after lunch the previous day to wait out Scatterblade's procedure. She had seen Jolt run off and had almost gone after him knowing something had gone wrong, but something held her back. She stayed there and eventually ended up falling asleep on the floor. Recognizing the femme's voice she bolted up to her feet. "Lu? Is he okay? What the heck happened? Why was everyone running around like somebody died?"
"He is alright, as far as I can tell. It seems that when Ratchet tried to separate the pretender...there was a complication and Scatterblade became infected with a virus that tried to destroy him. He is online and Ratchet assured me that he is functional." She grabbed a cube of energon from the dispensary, then found a place to sit, taking Charlie with her. "He seemed a little odd through, but maybe that is just my own processor playing tricks on me."
Charlie sighed in relief. "Thank goodness. How long have you been with him?"
"From the moment I saw Jolt running to the med bay. I only left to come check on you and to get some energon. I think Ratchet was trying to drive me out."
Charlie nodded, a grim look taking hold. "I would have too. No need to worry when things will be alright. He was probably just concerned for you."
The femme vented, almost slamming her cube on the table beside her, but restraining herself so she wouldn't harm Charlie. "I do not believe everything is alright," she growled. "That little...thing...tried to tear him apart from the inside!" She took a moment to let her anger simmer before shoving it back down. "No...no...that is over. I am sorry, Charlie. I should not have said that."
Charlie flinched at the femme's violent reaction, but gave her a weak grin despite it. "It's okay," she said, hoping she could comfort the obviously distressed femme.
"No, it is not. I should be assuring you that he will be just fine, not creating more doubt. I suppose I am just allowing too much stress to get to me." She vented again. "Have you been here all this time?"
The woman accepted the apology easily. She knew what it was like to be so worried about someone you cared for; it was easy to forget others were just as worried. "Yeah," she admitted. "I have. I...got a little scared. Didn't want to be in the way in the med bay, so I just stayed here."
"That might have been the better idea. We should probably see about getting you a quarters outside of the med bay. Since you no longer need to be under supervision, it should not be an issue."
"I'd like that a lot," she smiled at the change of topic. "I'm just glad I'm not gonna spend the rest of my time in a hospital bed."
"We should go speak with the human head of this base. I am sure he could arrange appropriate lodgings for you."
"Yeah. I haven't really seen much of the human side of things here."
Illusory laughed. "We have been monopolizing your time." Leaving her energon where it sat, the femme stood. "Come on, let us see about making you more comfortable."
They headed across the base toward the human sector. While the humans and Autobots might work together on almost every level, there were many parts that they kept separate; such as living and personal offices. Once they were more in the human section, more humans appeared.
"Hey," one man asked as the pair ventured near, "you looking for someone?"
Charlie flinched at the question, she hadn't thought too much about who they were going to see. "Uhm...I'm not exactly sure who, but um, I think his name was Lennox?"
"Oh! Yeah, Major Lennox? He's in his office I think." The man gave them directions to the appropriate place. The building itself was too small for Illusory to enter, so she created her holoform to accompany Charlie inside.
Walking into the building with Illusory by her side helped give Charlie courage. She didn't like how she was more scared of the humans around here than she was of the giant aliens, but she had spent far more time around the aliens than she had the humans.
They found the right office easily enough. Illusory knocked lightly on the door and received a short; "Enter," for her efforts. Opening the door, the femme allowed Charlie to enter first.
"Hi, Major Lennox. Remember me?" Charlie waved at the man upon entering. They had only met once, but she was sure she would never forget him.
He looked up with a smile already on his face. "Of course, Charlie, I remember you. However..." he looked to the woman following the girl he already knew. "I'm not familiar with you."
"Illusory," the woman smiled. "I thought I would accompany Charlie and this was the only way I could manage through the building."
"Right!" Will looked over the holoform. Now that he knew who she was, he could spot the odd little tell-tale signs that gave her away. "What brings you ladies here?"
"I'm looking for a room. Just until Scatterblade gets cleared by Ratchet. That and the hospital-like one has got all the wrong Feng Shui," she joked.
"Ah! Moving in, huh?" He smiled before turning to a small laptop set to the side on his desk. "I do have some civilian class rooms available. It won't be any hotel, but it would probably be more comfortable than living in the med bay." After only a moment he scribbled down an 'address' for the room and handed it over to Charlie. "How's the mech doing anyway?"
Charlie gaped a little, then looked at the ground. "I don't know. Something happened. That...stupid pretender hurt him. Ratchet's trying to get him set right again."
Illusory just managed to choke back a snarl of anger.
"That's too bad," Will noted the reactions of both the women currently standing before him. "Ratchet's a good medic. He'll pull him through, I'm sure."
"Of course," Illusory agreed, though with much less assurance.
"How about you, Charlie? How are you doing?"
The redhead grinned up at the major. "I'm doing much better. My arms match," she displayed both arms for comparison. "I've adjusted really well, as far as I've been told."
Will studied the girl's arms closely, trying to recall which one had been the prosthetic and finding no help from looking at them. "That's simply amazing. I'm really happy this is working out for you and more than happy that you guys came up with this idea. It's going to help so many people."
"I'm really excited to help out. Thanks for the room. I should try and stop by some more before I leave."
"Any time," Will smiled. "My door is always open."
"Thanks." Charlie gave the man another short wave as she headed out. Illusory offered a nod of thanks before following her.
As they made their exit from the building, Charlie felt her anxiety starting to lay claim over her. She was really starting to think about what she heard happened to Scatterblade and she was starting to worry. So much could have happened, so much might have happened that they didn't know about yet...she took a few deep breaths and let them out slowly to calm herself. There was no use in getting worked up about it. Not until they knew something for sure. That, and she was pretty sure that if she lost it right now, Illusory wouldn't be far behind.
"Would you like to see the room you will be staying in?" The femme offered as yet another distraction for her own processor. She wanted to go back to the med bay and check on Scatterblade, but she knew Ratchet would kick her out the second she stepped in...or he would try at the very least and she wasn't quite ready for that fight.
"Yeah, let's go find it." The woman was more than happy to accept the distraction for what it was. They both needed to keep themselves occupied.
The pair wandered the halls for a bit before finding the correct area. It was all pretty utilitarian, not much to speak of decor or personality but it was functional. When Charlie walked into the room, a frown tugged down on her face. She hadn't expected much, but she had hoped for something a little more...hospitable. "At least it doesn't have a gurney," she shrugged optimistically. There was always something to be thankful for.
"I suppose you cannot expect much from a military installation," Illusory stated as she looked around the room. It looked quite acceptable to her, but she wasn't sure what would make it more appealing to a human.
"It just needs some...color," Charlie decided, a grin overtaking the frown. "I'm not sure where to look for it though."
"Color? As in...paint?" A distinctly impish look overtook the femme's face. She knew exactly where they could acquire such things.
"I don't know if they'll let me paint the walls," the woman shrugged. "Butcher paper would work though; hang that and cover it with things to brighten the room."
"Butcher paper?"
"Big long sheets of paper."
"Hmmm..." Illusory pondered for a bit before coming to a conclusion. "I bet we can find someone who would have something. Maybe Wheeljack? Sunstreaker would probably know where we could find something, but I am not so sure we could convince him to part with it."
"Sunstreaker likes art?" Charlie sounded rather surprised and uncertain. She recalled the golden mech and his rather dark demeanor. He was a fighter, she gathered that quickly enough, but an artist? She wasn't so sure.
"Used to be a famous painter, actually. I have only seen a few replicas, but his work is beyond words. I am rather certain he was the one that painted the twins' quarters. It is very...reminiscent."
Charlie gaped at the revelation. "Seriously? Dang...wonder if I could sneak a peak," she grinned suggestively.
"He does not paint much anymore, as far as I am aware, but I imagine there might be one or two around. I am sure if we asked Sideswipe he would show us."
"I'd like that very much!"
Illusory nodded, sending out a request to the silver front-liner when he had a moment to spare.
::Illusory,:: his voice purred over the comm, ::what can I do for you?::
::Is there any of Sunstreaker's paintings displayed on base?"
::You're looking for something pretty to look at?:: The mech's tone was full of suggestions.
::I mentioned to Charlie that he used to paint. She was interested in seeing some of his work. I admit that I would not mind seeing some of his original works and not just duplicates.::
::I see,:: there was a touch of disappointment to the front-liner's tone, but he continued with a cheery mood none-the-less. ::Well, Sunny's out on patrol, so if you wanna swing by our quarters, I'll show you what he's got there. Charlie can see the room, that's really the biggest thing he's done in a long time. Don't tell him I let you bring a human though, he'd flip.::
::Agreed,:: she promised before turning to Charlie. "Sideswipe has agreed to show us some of Sunstreaker's works. We will meet him at his quarters."
"Awesome!" The redhead cheered as she followed Illusory from her spartan room. Alien artwork? How much more amazing could her life get?
Sideswipe was waiting for them when they arrived, looking rather relaxed where he leaned against the wall. "Hello, Illusory, Charlie," he greeted smoothly.
"Hello, Sideswipe," the femme returned politely.
"Hi, Sideswipe!" Charlie waved with her Cybertronian arm.
"Welcome to my humble abode," he waved dramatically at the hanger converted to fit the twin front-liners.
Illusory stepped in first, something telling her to look for anything that might be dangerous to Charlie before the human could enter. Pleased that she found nothing out of order, she stepped aside so Charlie could join her and Sideswipe followed behind.
"Sunny hasn't painted much lately," he started, "but he's got a few things around here. Why the sudden interest in art?" The mech started moving some things around to reveal a rather large painting on the wall, as of yet incomplete.
"I finally graduated from a hospital room to a really boring white room," Charlie stated blandly, her attention largely swept up in the extravagant painting that consumed the walls and ceiling of the hanger. She could almost believe she was standing on the alien world, looking out over one of its vast cities. "I was wondering if Sunstreaker had any paper he could spare."
"Ah! Now that's a sentiment I can get behind." Finished uncovering the work in progress, Sideswipe turned his focus to sifting through their belongings looking for something to help the human. "I don't know about paper, but I know we have some bare sheet metal around here that he'd never miss."
Illusory stared at the painting she hadn't seen; an image that looked very familiar but she couldn't quite place. It was another view of Cybertron overlooking a city in the late orn light. "Where is this?"
Sideswipe looked up for a moment, having forgotten the revealed painting. "Iacon. Sunny stayed in the Prime Plaza for a few vorns when we were younger."
Charlie's focus was drawn to the painting that sat in contrast to the room's masterpiece. While the room had vast expanses dotted with life, this one held very compact and efficient life that demanded beauty in its construction. "Oh my gosh," she breathed. "This is...you guys' planet?" She asked in awe of all that she was taking in.
"Used to be," the mech shrugged. "Once upon a time. Sunny's got a great memory of Iacon."
"I never got to see it before the war. It was beautiful."
Sideswipe stopped digging through things to look at the image again. "Yeah, it was pretty nice," he said rather indifferently.
"I've been trying to teach myself how to draw," Charlie said wistfully staring at the work of art in front of her. "It's still an undeveloped talent," she said feeling her face turn red at even attempting to call what she did art compared to what she was presented with.
"I'd offer to talk to Sunny for you, but he's not a huge fan of humans," he shrugged, returning to his search. "Been working on him about that, he tolerates everyone pretty well and he'll fight beside them, but I don't think that social time would be a good idea."
"That is a shame," Illusory commented, finally tearing her gaze away from the image. "I think he might find a lot of beauty in them if he would just look."
"You know, that's what Optimus says. Well, something like that anyway."
"One thing I've learned is that you can't force stuff on people," Charlie shook her head meaningfully, a certain man coming to mind. It seemed willingness to co-mingle had its issues on both sides of the line.
"Don't we all know that," Sideswipe agreed with a rather sardonic laugh. "Doesn't seem to matter what the species is."
"Agreed," Illusory nodded.
"So, your brother likes to paint. What do you like to do?"
"I...uh..." the mech weighed his thoughts a bit before shrugging. "I like to be active."
"That is an understatement from the stories I have heard," Illusory teased. "You used to be a performer, right?"
"Once upon a time," the mech agreed.
"Performer?" Charlie asked, a grin splitting her face. It was so fascinating to hear that these bots had not lived their entire lives in war – much as Scatterblade and Illusory seemed to have – she wanted to know more about how they had once been.
"Yeah, I used to be a stuntmech in a show troupe. But that was forever ago."
Charlie laughed at the image in her mind. "That is so cool! My little brother wants to be a stuntman."
"There's nothing like it, I'll give you that!" Sideswipe shook his head at the memories that surfaced. He had loved his troupe and still missed them, but life had happened and that was all in the past. As he shifted around he spotted what he had been looking for. "Ah! Here we go." He pulled out several small strips of sheet metal squares. "You can have some of these."
"This is great! Thank you!"
"No problem! I like helping when I can." He leaned against the wall. "So..." he paused, seeming unsure of what he wanted to say. "How's 'Blade doing?"
Illusory vented softly. "Ratchet says he is functional."
"That's good! If Ratchet says someone's functional, that's always a good sign."
"Yeah, I hope so," Charlie said uneasily. Illusory's previous statement that everything was not alright still echoed through her mind. "I just have this really weird feeling, but then again, I over analyze everything, so it might just be me."
Concern instantly struck the front-liner. "How do you mean?"
"I don't know," Charlie shrugged. "When Jolt booked it to the med bay, I kinda freaked. Tiny case of shock and I stayed in the rec room. Felt off ever sense."
"Yeah, we all heard Jolt and Wheeljack went in after everything started. What happened?"
"A virus," Illusory growled. "That slagging pretender..." she vented again to calm herself before she could get too worked up about it. "When he came online he just seemed...off. I am not sure why, but Ratchet all but physically removed me from the room."
Charlie grimaced, feeling her friend's doubt like a physical blanket weighing on her shoulders. "Maybe when I get these back to the room we can sneak by the med bay? Check up on him?"
"I would like that very much," the femme agreed, relieved more than she thought she would be.
Sideswipe stepped away from the wall, his own senses blaring a warning to ward the two away from that path. "I don't know if that's a good idea. I mean, if Ratch' kicked you out, it's probably for a good reason."
"All the more reason why I should be there," the femme shot back darkly.
"We need to make sure he's okay," the young woman argued. "For our own sanity...and because that's what friends do. They check to make sure you're okay."
Sideswipe hesitated for a moment before smiling softly. "Watch for wrenches."
"He couldn't hit a lady!" Charlie grinned back defiantly before a touch of uncertainty came over her. "Would he?"
At that Sideswipe laughed. "Oh, there is no gender when it comes to stepping over the line with Ratchet."
The redhead laughed. "Alrighty then, warning noted."
Illusory offered to carry the metal sheets as they crossed back to Charlie's temporary room. The woman was more than accepting of the offer, yet her own pace was rather slow, not that she was aware of it.
Illusory matched her pace as best she could, noting the slower than normal speed. "Is there something bothering you?"
"I...worry really easy," she answered. "I'm trying not too. I mean, you've got more reason to be and it's not fair of me to make it worse."
"I am sorry. I should not have shared my own uncertainties with you...but I cannot claim that I am not worried as well." She thought back to that moment when she came online to realize Scatterblade was also online. "He just did not seem himself, though that is probably just because of what he went through. I am likely making more problems in my processor than there really are."
Charlie sighed. "Yeah, same here."
Once they reached the building that housed Charlie's room, Illusory activated her holoform once more and took up the sheets of metal in her human hands. They made their way to the room easily enough and Charlie opened the door for Illusory.
"Now we find some supplies," she said. It didn't take long for Charlie to find what she wanted around the human sector; some magazines, scissors, tape, paint, and newspapers. "I was thinking of doing a collage."
"What is that?" The femme asked as she helped stack things in neat piles.
"It's a big collection of things, colors, pictures, and words that describe you," Charlie explained. "They don't particularly have to be in any order. They can be as messy as you want. I always thought of it as a really good representation of how my thinking works; all scattered about."
"That sounds..." her face scrunched in an odd way while she thought. "That actually sounds like a worthwhile project," she stated finally.
"Do you want to do one for yourself? Or would you like to help me with mine?" Charlie began flipping through a magazine for pictures.
"I will help you," she stated as she began to look through another magazine.
Charlie gave her some instructions on what to look for and some basic guidelines to help her find the things she liked. Illusory did as she was instructed easily, though she also picked out things that she found interesting or attractive that she thought might go with the things she was choosing for Charlie. A lot of scenery and whimsical images started to collect in a small pile near her.
Charlie approved of the additions quite happily and set about cutting out letters and words to create phrases she liked to go along with the pictures they were creating.
The femme watched with great interest as Charlie assembled the images and words. It was amazing how such nonsense made such...well...sense! If this was what it was like to look into Charlie's thoughts, then she could look all orn and never grow tired of it. "This is really amazing."
The redhead beamed. "Thanks!" She paused looking over the collage she had been creating. It needed something else, but she couldn't decide on what. "I think I'll wait to finish it," she finally said, pushing it to the side.
Illusory nodded, waiting to see if Charlie would start another or not. After a short time of waiting, she chose to make an offer of her own. "Should we check on Scatterblade?" She had nearly forgotten her anxiety over the mech during their little project, but now it had come back in full force and it was all she could do to wait for a response from her friend.
Charlie took a deep breath and let it out as a gust of air. "Yeah, we should." She tried to keep her own uncertainties from getting the better of her. What would they see when they got there? She had no idea if Scatterblade had been changed physically or not. As a matter of fact, she had no idea what to expect at all.
Illusory did her best not to rush, her eagerness shining through clearly right up until they were standing outside of the med bay. Suddenly she was more afraid than concerned. She approached cautiously, waiting to hear if Ratchet was there and busy or if the coast was clear.
Charlie looked up at the femme, feeling her nervousness, but offered a nod of encouragement. She moved to look beyond the doors first. She waved the femme in after her and moved on into the med bay.
When she didn't immediately see the medic, Illusory walked deeper into the building, Charlie staying close to her and the wall. She didn't want to be caught underfoot for any reason.
The femme found the room she sought soon enough and looked in on the recharging mech. "Scatterblade?" She called softly, not really wanting to wake him, but desperately needing him to answer her. She paused when he didn't answer, scolding herself to allow him to rest. After all, he had just been through a lot and it was hardly fair of her to demand his attention just for her own peace of processor. With a soft vent, she turned away. Maybe she should get some recharge too, Ratchet had demanded as much of her anyway. "He is recharging," she explained to Charlie quietly, ushering her back the way they had come.
Scatterblade's audio twitched and he flung himself up, his swords ejected and ready for battle. Two things registered to him at the same time; one, the 'threat' he sensed was nothing more than a femme and a small creature. The second was that he recognized the femme. "Sorry," he mumbled, quickly sheathing the swords and pressing a hand to his aching head. Why did that femme make his processor ache so much?
Illusory was trapped between shock and fear at the mech's unexpected reaction. She had instinctively shielded Charlie, but her own spark pulsed hard in its casing. "I-I did not mean to disturb you..." she wasn't sure if they should leave or stay now that he was online.
"It's okay," the mech said dismissively, settling himself back on the berth he had just been recharging on. "I just...I've been better," he chuckled emptily. "Sorry I scared you."
"You are still not feeling well?" Illusory eased up a little, her frame still holding a bit of tension as she studied the mech. "What did Ratchet say?"
He looked back up at the two, studying the femme some more, frustrated that he could feel the familiarity but could not place her for anything. "I guess I'm still...tired," he explained lamely.
"Right," the femme relaxed fully. That made sense. How could he not be exhausted? "We should let you recharge. We just wanted to check up on you, to make sure you were alright."
Scatterblade nodded, acknowledging her concern, his optics still fixed on the femme. "Thanks" He gave a polite grin down to the creature beside her, catching that 'we' had included the small being. However, actually looking at it he flinched in surprise. "What the frag is that?" He stared at the red haired creature with open curiosity.
"'Blade?" Charlie cocked her head slightly. That was an odd reaction. "That's a little rude, don't you think?" She tried to sound humored by his words, but a sick feeling was quickly seeping into her guts.
The curiosity didn't leave the mech's optics; on the contrary, it deepened and a touch of suspicion started to creep in. "How do you know my designation?"
"Scatterblade," Illusory spoke with confusion and caution, not understanding what was going on. "She is the reason we came here, remember? Her arm?"
The mech's confusion was quickly laid upon the femme. "We?" He asked cautiously. Apparently he was supposed to know her in more than just passing...this wasn't good.
"Y-yes." A whole new type of fear consumed Illusory. "You and I have been working together for a while now..." her spark twisted inside of her as she seemed to put things together. The way Ratchet had acted, Scatterblade's odd reaction to her before...now this. "You do not remember," she stated flatly.
A sad look came over the mech's face and he shook his head minutely. It hurt, somewhere inside, to hear her say those words, but it was true. He didn't remember her, or the creature standing beside her. "The last thing I remember is trying to rendezvous with my team." He tried desperately to find something more, anything at all that might stop that growing look of dread on her face. He truly felt he needed to, much more than remembering all the details of anything else, he needed to remember her. He felt that if he could just place her, he wouldn't worry about the rest, everything would be okay then.
"Your...team..." she remembered the dark looks on the mech's face when talking about his team, about what happened afterward and the fact that quite a bit of time had passed since then. "Maybe it is better you do not remember," she said sorrowfully.
"You really don't remember?" Charlie's face was trapped in a deep sorrowful grimace. The notion took some time to sink in, but once it had, she glanced up to Illusory. What must she be feeling right that moment? The two of them had come so far...and now? Now they had to start over.
The femme wavered between leaving and staying. She wanted to stay, however, she also felt out of sorts and uncomfortable with the revelation of Scatterblade's missing memory. Finally the discomfort won over; she just didn't know what to do for him right now and if she remained she was going to break down into an emotional mess. "I am going to find Ratchet," she stated as she turned to leave.
"But," Charlie started to protest. Shouldn't they stay and try to help him remember something? Wasn't that what you were supposed to do with amnesia patients? Then again, they were alien robots, maybe it didn't work that way. "Yeah, let's go see Ratchet." She spun on her heal and marched out of the room, intent on finding the medic.
Scatterblade couldn't help the smile that grabbed him at the small creature's action. "She's got spunk," he noted out loud.
Illusory paused at the door, keeping one optic on where Charlie was going, and glanced back at the mech. "She has more than spunk," she smiled, though it never reached her optics. "Little human has more fire in her than...well, most 'bots I know." With a small wave, she left the mech in search of the CMO. She needed answers and she needed them now. Luckily for the pair seeking the medic, he had not been too far. In fact, he was waiting for them.
"I suppose you've figured out he is missing parts of his memory," Ratchet jumped right in, knowing that was the case. "Before you ask, no, I'm not sure if it is permanent, and no, I don't know what to do about it just yet. I'm working on it and so is Wheeljack. It seems that the pretender actually attached itself to his memory banks so when they were separated it took them with it...or, that is the assumption at this point in time."
Illusory sputtered on her unasked questions, taking a few minutes to take in what the medic was saying and applying it to what she knew and what she wanted to know. Her spark simply sank to the bottom of her tanks and stewed in unstable energon; at least, that was how it felt. She wanted to purge, badly.
"But, you're going to, right?" Charlie stated in all firmness, needing a positive answer. "You will figure this out."
"I hope to be able to, yes, but I can make no promises at this point." The medic had a rather stern look on his face, but he spared both beings before him an apologetic glance. "If the pretender's memory banks were damaged during the separation, there will be nothing I can do unless the memories are stored in Scatterblade's processor somewhere. It is an unfortunate situation, I give you that; however, given other options, this is not the worst it could have been."
Charlie nodded and sighed. Her confidence was leaking away like air from a tire. She had hoped the aggressive mech would offer them some hope to cling to, something that would keep them positive in this time of darkness. "So, what do we do? What can we do so we don't get even more...out of sorts than we already are? Do we try...to...I don't know, jog his memory? Will that even work?"
"You can try that," the medic nodded, "but I don't want to give you any false hopes. If the memories have been removed with the pretender coding, no amount of 'jogging' is going to return them. However, he could use friends and that will never go away."
Illusory nodded weakly. As much as she wanted to hope for the best, she had learned long ago that more than likely it would be the worst. What if the memories were really gone and Scatterblade didn't come to like her as he had before? After all, he wasn't stranded in a forest with damaged communications systems, needing someone to help him...he didn't need her and he had other options for companionship here.
Charlie forced a smile, seeing the darkness consuming her friend. "Okay, then. We'll do that, right?" She looked to Illusory, her expression demanding a positive answer from the femme. "Because that's what friends do."
"O-of course," the femme agreed softly. "As long as we can help."
It was a start, not really the answer she wanted but it was better than a refusal to even try. Charlie nodded and immediately started thinking of ways to distract the femme for the time being.
Ratchet felt bad for the femme; she was obviously taking this news very hard, but there was nothing he could do to make it any easier. "If you need anything," he offered, "you know where to find me."
"Yes," Illusory agreed as she turned away. Now what was she supposed to do?
Charlie rambled off suggestions softly as she walked beside the femme, hoping to give her something to think about other than Scatterblade even if it was just for a moment.
"It is alright, Charlie," Illusory assured the woman after a few minutes. "I am saddened, but I understand what happened." She smiled, though it only touched her lips and never went any further. "Whatever you would like to do is fine by me. We can come back and visit later, after he has had time to fully recharge."
The redhead sighed in defeat, but accepted that Illusory seemed to be coming to terms. "We could work more on the collage?"
"Sure, that sounds like a fantastic idea."
The pair returned to Charlie's new room and set to work without much spoken between them. Illusory did her best not to think of Scatterblade as they created new images, but it was difficult. She lost herself in the pictures and the story behind them, soon enough finding it to be very relaxing.
XXX
When Ratchet came to check on Scatterblade, he wasn't surprised to find the mech still online, though he had hoped the mech would have gotten more recharge to aid his recovering systems. "How are you feeling?"
Scatterblade wearily shoved himself into a sitting position, the movement made his head ache horribly and he groaned. "I've been better," he grunted irritably.
"I'm sure," the medic stated as he scanned the front-liner. "You probably still have quite a bit of discomfort from the coding separation, not to mention everything that still needs to be finished. I expect that overall it will go away in the next orn or so, but if it persists let me know. There is a chance that more was damaged than what we caught."
The mech nodded, though felt entirely unsure. All of this still didn't make sense and while he knew he should trust the older mech – he had heard of the CMO's reputation after all and it had been rather miraculous to say the least – he still found everything to be so very strange. Oddly familiar, but still strange. He forced himself to relax as much as he could, knowing the tension he was holding wasn't going to stop the ache in his processor.
"You are still having trouble remembering?" Ratchet didn't have to ask to know, but he needed to get as much information as he could, so he asked the basics anyway. "How you got here? What happened to you before you came here? Where you are?"
Scatterblade laughed a little sardonically. "I was hoping you might tell me."
Ratchet vented softly. "I'm not going to tell you everything because I'm still hoping that your memory files are there but locked away somewhere.
"You're at the Nevadan Autobot-Human base on Earth. We were able to establish a working treaty with the inhabitants here and we help their military protect their planet against Decepticons, as well as offer minor advances to their kind."
A look of surprise overcame the front-liner. "Wow! You were all able to rendezvous with everyone? Who's all here?"
"Not everyone," Ratchet affirmed sternly. There were still large numbers of their faction that were missing. "Currently on base are Optimus Prime and most of his command team, myself included, several special ops, and a handful of enlisted, plus Illusory; a contracted Neutral." Ratchet paused to give Scatterblade some time to let that sink in.
"Wow," he vented silently. "This...feels like it should be familiar," he shrugged, "but I'm just not pulling the files."
"Well, familiarity is a good sign. That means you have some kind of recollection of it all – even if you do not recall the exact event."
"Okay." He still didn't feel very sure about it, but he was willing to believe the medic.
"If you feel rested enough, I would like you to get out and walk around for a while, see if anything might trigger some memory. Don't over do it though, you should refuel and recharge as much as you can to help your recovery. Return here when you are done and I'll get started on some of the other repairs."
The mech nodded, more than willing to get out of the med bay for a while. He hopped off the berth and glanced back to the medic to make sure he was heading in the right direction.
Ratchet gave a slight gesture to head the mech towards the exit, then headed back to his office to write his report.
XXX
Wheeljack worked solemnly in his lab. His processor going over what had happened with Scatterblade and the pretender. If Scatterblade had agreed to what Wheeljack had asked him to do...they might have lost him. How had he not realized the little Decepticon created piece of machinery would try to do something so underhanded? He knew better, yet he had allowed his spark to take the lead and he had been duped again.
Hearing a strange nose, one that he thought sounded like a system starting up, Wheeljack started to search for what was booting, unaware of the pretender beginning to twitch where it had laid motionless since the fiasco.
"Oh, my head..." it groaned, looking around the room in complete confusion.
Hearing the voice brought Wheeljack's attention to the pretender in its container and he stared in astonishment. "You shouldn't be functional..."
The pretender finally spotted Wheeljack and the confusion was replaced by sudden shock and fear. "Oh, slag! How did you..." it looked down at itself with even more fear, "how did I..." its attention went back to the inventor. "Wheeljack, what happened?"
Put back by the completely unexpected response, Wheeljack tried to figure out what was going on. "You were separated from Scatterblade..." he said slowly, cautiously. Surely this was another trap.
The fear switched right back to confusion and it shook its head. "I...I'm-I'm Scatterblade."
Shock and dread washed over Wheeljack. "No, ya can't be. Scatterblade's in the med bay."
"What?! But..." the dread was contagious and it was clear that the pretender was struggling with itself to make sense. "I'm in the pretender..." it murmured as it seemed to click in its processor. "Slag," the pretender rubbed at its head as though its processor was starting to glitch. "This ain't good."
::Ratch, we...uh...have uh problem.::
::No. No more problems, Wheeljack. I've had enough.::
::Well, fraid ta say ya got one more. Th' pretender just said he's Scatterblade.::
There was silence over the comm for a breem. ::It could be faking.::
::Could be tellin' th' truth.::
::Bring it to me. We have to figure this out.::
With a nod, Wheeljack opened the container and reached for the pretender within. "We're just gunna go see Ratch'. Maybe we can get this figured out."
Ratchet was convinced that the pretender was still up to no good. Still...what if... ::Scatterblade, I need you to return to the med bay.::
Scatterblade vented to himself, but obeyed and headed back to the building he had left not so very long ago. ::On my way.::
When Wheeljack entered the med bay, he found Ratchet already waiting for them. The medic scanned the pretender before the inventor could set him down.
"So you believe you are Scatterblade?" The CMO asked flatly. It wasn't accusing or disbelieving, simply stating fact.
The pretender nodded. "Yes."
"What is the last thing you recall?"
It thought back, focusing on everything just before it all had blacked out. "Being on the berth right before you started separating us. It started to hurt, then I...I thought I saw Wheeljack for a klik...and then there was Lu..."
Just then, Scatterblade walked in. The pretender looked up at the mech and shook its head to keep from glitching.
"You wanted to see me, Ratchet?" Scatterblade asked, not paying the pretender one bit of attention. It was almost as if the little thing didn't exist at all.
"Well, it seems there's been a little bit more of a complication with your separation than I thought. Scatterblade; meet yourself...apparently." Ratchet vented. Could things get any more complicated? "He seems to have the memories you're missing," the medic explained further.
The mech looked down at the human with deep confusion. As if the pretender knew exactly what the mech was thinking, it shrugged. "I'm not human. I...I'm not sure just yet what happened."
Scatterblade took a deep intake to speak, but let it out in a harsh vent. "This is...weird."
"You're telling me?" The pretender sighed as well.
"So...now what?" Wheeljack asked at a complete loss for what to do next. "If they're both Scatterblade, what happened ta th' pretender programmin'?
"I have no idea," Ratchet vented. "That is what we have to figure out."
"If it helps any," the pretender offered, "I don't think the programming is...in here anymore." It gestured to itself dramatically. "The little fragger had no idea what it was getting into," it shook its head, a mild look of satisfaction on its face.
"Right," Wheeljack shrugged. "So...is it still in his frame?" He looked to Scatterblade curiously.
"I went through all of his coding, it's not there," Ratchet assured everyone in the room. "I guess I will go through..." he looked to the pretender, really not knowing what to call it, "your coding and see if it's there."
The pretender nodded, easily allowing itself to be subjected to the medic's exams.
Scatterblade watched curiously while the pretender tried hard not to look at the mech at all. It was starting to understand as it glanced at...himself...between moments. Even though he thought he was trapped in the pretender, his body and his identity were still in tact. It was the memories of Scatterblade's newest experiences – everything that had occurred since he had picked up that accursed Decepticon prisoner right up until the attempt to separate himself from the thing implanted within him – had been separated and stored within the pretender unit. It wasn't alive. That was the hardest bit to come to terms with. All it had were memories of being alive and a frame that functioned. There was no spark, no life force, no nothing. Just memories. Thinking of it that way made its processor hurt less. The fact that its 'spark' didn't ache with the thoughts only further defined the truth of it all.
As it scanned through the memories, just looking for anything that might be out of place or corrupted by the pretender's last attempts at survival, something occurred to it. "Scatterblade," it asked awkwardly, "Um...did you get any visitors since you've been back online?"
"Yeah, a femme and a human. Why?" The question seemed unimportant to him, but he didn't see why he couldn't indulge...his memories...he supposed.
Knowing it should feel anxious still brought little reaction from inside. Perhaps that was a mercy given the nature of what was currently spinning through its processor. "Did...she seem okay? The femme?"
Scatterblade shrugged. "I guess."
"Illusory was distressed," Ratchet explained quietly. A part of him felt more assured that the misplaced memories had indeed moved to the pretender with every word it spoke. "Charlie seemed to remain hopeful though and she stayed with Illusory. After we get this all straightened out, you will all be happier, I am sure."
The pretender vented. At least the two of them were together. If anyone could keep Illusory's hopes up it would be Charlie.
"What if..." Wheeljack started, lost in his train of thoughts as he studied the different coding carefully. "What if they just combine again? Think that'd do it, Ratch?"
Ratchet studied the codes, an uneasiness filling him at the idea. "I separated all the combining coding, I'd have to reinstall a lot of it just to make it work again...I don't know how that would turn out with Scatterblade's coding still wrecked as it is."
"What if you put the pretender back?" The pretender offered. "The components, the physical pieces were always a part of me...er...Scatterblade anyway. What if you just put them back?"
"We could try it, though I must admit that I've never done anything like it. There may be some risk involved." The medic was already going over the different components in his processor, figuring the difficulty of the procedure and how the memory files would be transferred from one frame to the other without damaging the files or Scatterblade himself.
The pretender nodded with understanding.
Scatterblade, however, was largely confused. "So, I'm still not entirely sure what's happened and...what to think about all this," he said gesturing to the pretender supposedly holding his lost memories. "What kind of risk are you talking about and is it really worth it?"
"Well," Ratchet vented as he waved toward a display where he brought up the pretender's schematics as best they had worked them out. "If everything goes well and there was no damage done when the Decepticons did...whatever they did to make the pretender, then there may be no risk at all. However, I tend to assume that when Decepticons are involved in any way, there is a risk that has yet to be seen. Who knows what damage they've done, what they've altered...it's going to take some careful repairs is all I'm really saying."
Scatterblade eyed the medic cautiously. "Do I even want to know what you're talking about?"
"Probably not," the pretender shrugged.
To the pretender's relief, the mech didn't push the question any further. "Let's hope we can get this figured out, eh? I don't like feeling like I'm being left in the dark about my own memories," he quipped almost solemnly to the pretender.
Ratchet and Wheeljack set to the task of determining the best way to proceed, going over both the pretender's mechanics and Scatterblade's frame in great detail. The whole time Ratchet wondered about the morality of what they were discussing. Was it right to force Scatterblade to remember all these things that he had struggled with before? He was perfectly functional without them and it was hardly their right to force them back on him.
"Scatterblade," he finally addressed the mech, "is this what you really want to do?"
The pretender almost spoke up before realizing that he wasn't the one the medic was speaking to. It looked up at the mech in anticipation. If he said 'no' there would be nothing the pretender could do to change that. It was just memories while Scatterblade was a living 'bot. Ratchet would respect his wishes over anything else.
Scatterblade immediately looked to the pretender, searching for some answer he knew he wasn't going to find there. Did he really want to do this? He vented softly. "I don't know what's happened between then and now, though I'm gathering it wasn't good and I probably don't really want to remember all that," he grimaced, "but I don't want to forget either." He focused on the pretender, sure that some answers could be found that might bolster his decision. "That femme you're so concerned about; who is she?"
The pretender sighed brokenly, thinking of the femme and how all of this must have hurt her. "Illusory. She's...more important to me than I can ever say."
The mech studied the thing that held his memories, its face running the gauntlet of emotions at just the mention of the femme. Then he nodded, suddenly very sure. "Yes. I need those memories back."
Wheeljack seemed torn about some thought in his processor. "Should we tell her? Them? Th' femmes, Ah mean. Think they should know what's goin' on?"
Ratchet paused in his work to think on it. Illusory had seemed to take the realization of Scatterblade's lost memory pretty hard. Would it be kinder to tell her the truth now when there was still a chance things might go wrong and take the chance that she would have to suffer it all over again? Or would it be kinder to just let her know things were alright afterwords? "Let's decide exactly what we are doing before we go getting other's hopes up," he said finally.
The mech and pretender both nodded at the decision, though the pretender's was halting and a look of deep suffering touched its face plates. It had to stop thinking how Illusory was taking all this or it would work itself into a glitch.
It took Ratchet and Wheeljack joors to come up with a plan of actions; taking moments to consult with both the pretender and Scatterblade, then several more joors to get set up.
When they were finally ready, Ratchet gave the mech and pretender a moment to prepare. "I hope this turns out as well as it can," he stated, "but I can only predict so much. If you need some time, take it. There is no rush to begin."
"Yeah," Wheeljack agreed, though he was looking more to the pretender than to Scatterblade. "Why don't'ca go talk ta 'Lu an' Charlie? Let them know?"
"Yeah," the mech agreed. "Let's go."
"Wait! No..." the pretender sighed with defeat. "She'll crush me the klik she sees me."
"Don't worry," Scatterblade shook his head, not able to imagine the small femme being so violent. "I'll protect you. We'll explain it to her."
The pretender was still hesitant, but had little choice as Scatterblade carried it off.
XXX
Illusory sighed softly as she set the image she had been working on aside. She found that she liked to layer the images together to make one singular image; this one of a young human girl walking through a forest that opened up on a beach with lively green waters and a whimsical likeness of space floating above. She had tucked small flowers and animals into the image in places to add detail to it, but had finally reached a point she was sure she had done all she could.
Charlie had started with a National Geographic panorama of a savannah. For the better part of the day she had been constructing a Pride Rock to put in the background. She glanced over to Illusory's finished project. "That looks great," she grinned.
"Thank you," the femme murmured softly, taking a look at what Charlie was creating. "That looks reminiscent of that animated story you showed us a while back. The Lion King, was it not?"
Charlie blushed, but nodded. "Yeah, I'm just finding it hard to find animals for it," she shrugged.
"Perhaps I can help," the femme offered, grabbing another magazine and searching for likenesses of the animals she had seen in the movie.
"Thanks."
XXX
Both versions of Scatterblade were at a loss as to where the femme and the human had gone to and it took them a while to even narrow the area in which they searched.
"Wait," the pretender finally said, trying not to sound nervous. "Let her know you're looking for her, it'll be faster."
The mech nodded, finding that he did have the link to comm the femme. ::Hi, Illusory? I was wondering if I could see you?::
Illusory's holoform glitched for a moment with the surprise of the sudden contact. Outside the building her frame jerked. ::Is something wrong?:: The femme asked nervously. ::I can come right away, are you still in the med bay?::
::No, nothing's wrong,:: he answered, hoping to calm the femme some. ::It's good news, actually.::
Charlie's eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the femme's reaction. "What's up 'Lu?"
::I'm outside in the human sector,:: Scatterblade continued.
"Scatterblade just contacted me. He asked to see me..." Outside the building she stood and looked for the mech. ::Would you like Charlie to come as well?::
::Yes, it's good for both of you,:: he said happily.
::Then we are on our way.:: Illusory couldn't hide her nervousness. "Come on, he would like to see us both. He is outside."
When he finally spotted the white armored femme near one of the human barracks, Scatterblade headed toward her, the pretender held comfortably in his hand.
Seeing the small thing, Illusory felt her nervousness turn to sheer panic. She scooped Charlie up the second the human was past the doors of the barracks, holding her close to her chest in attempt to hide the human away from it. "What are you doing with that thing?" She demanded with a snarl.
The mech looked confused and out of instinct shielded the pretender from the femme. "It's alright. I figured out where the missing memories were," he explained confusedly.
It didn't take much for Illusory to figure out what he was implying. "In that thing?" She asked fearfully.
Her tone made Scatterblade frown. "Yes, and we're working on putting them back where they belong. It's good news," he assured her with confidence.
"Are you sure it is not a trap?" She asked, glaring at the hidden pretender. "Look what it did to you in the first place! All of this..." she stopped, remembering that Scatterblade had no memories of what had happened to him over the past few orns.
The pretender shook its head in despair. "It's not here anymore. Whatever inhabited this...shell, is gone."
Charlie's hopes rose and she looked up to Illusory to see if the femme was willing to consider this.
The femme was shocked, to say the very least, but trust was not easy to come to her. "Gone? How is it gone?"
"I don't know," it shook it's head, "I thought at first, I was stuck inside it," the pretender shuddered, "but this," he pointed to the mech, "is Scatterblade. I'm just the memories. I'm beginning to think it's what the 'Cons wanted all along."
Illusory felt suddenly unstable on her feet. She just didn't know what to think of it all. She didn't want to trust the pretender, but she desperately wanted to believe it. "You..." she glanced from the pretender to Scatterblade and back again a few times before she seemed able to speak. "You spoke with Ratchet? Does he...agree?"
The mech reached to steady the femme, his hand gentle yet firm against her arm. "Yes, he said he was going to try. We just left there actually. Wheeljack thought I should let you two know."
"After it's all done, we can dismantle this fraggin' thing," the pretender said venting it's frustration.
"And...you remember?" Illusory asked nervously. Despite her fear of the form, she couldn't fight back her hope that this was really the answer and everything would be okay.
It grinned at her. "Yes, I do," it said with a look of determination on its face. "We'll get this figured out, I promise."
"When will this happen?"
"As soon as we can," Scatterblade said. "It'll take a few more orns. Maybe longer, Ratchet wasn't entirely sure, but it'll be worth it." He glanced down to the pretender and then back to the femme. "It will be worth it," he repeated with a warm grin.
Illusory made a soft sound; a keen of sorts that was a mixture of joy and desperation. She knew she had cared for Scatterblade, but she hadn't realized just how much she had become attached to him until she thought he was all but lost to her. She needed him to know her, to remember her and their past together however short it was. She even wanted to tell him that, but thought better of it. Now wasn't the time for such confessions. Instead, she vented shakily and nodded. "I hope so."
The pretender sighed in relief and smiled softly. "We should head back," it suggested, "see if Ratchet's ready."
"Good luck 'Blade," Charlie waved, tears pricked at her eyes with relief. Illusory's reactions stirred even deeper. It was good to see hope in the femme.
Illusory couldn't say anything as she watched them go. She was excited and afraid. "What if it is just another trap?" She asked Charlie once the mech and the pretender were long gone. "What if the pretender is just...pretending?"
Charlie looked up at the femme with a smile. "That wasn't the pretender," she said firmly. "I know it."
"How?" The femme studied the human. Her scans couldn't tell her that it wasn't the pretender. They couldn't assure her there was no foul play at hand. She could only hear the voice and the emotion put into it and hope that it was not faked.
"I just...feel it," she shrugged. "I'm putting my faith in it."
"I hope your faith is correct," Illusory vented softly. "I so badly want it to be true."
"We'll see it come true," Charlie promised.
The femme bent to allow the human from her protective grip.
Charlie stepped down but kept a hand on the femme's. "it'll be alright," she affirmed one last time.
Illusory vented and smiled as best she could. "You will have to forgive my pessimism; it has been practically built into my coding, but I will do my best to believe it will all turn out well."
The red head smiled. "Good. So, should we get back to the collages?
"Yes," the femme nodded, regenerating her holoform and standing beside Charlie.