Yay! Finally got a chapter up on time! I feel so proud of me! ;) It came out much sadder than I expected, but I think that's good at this point. We're well into the sorrowful part of the story so why not bask in it while I can?

Oh dear, that sounded almost morbid didn't it? n_n;; oh well...

Great big thanks go to Bee4ever, Autobot Phoenix, BriarRose10001, icanhascamaro, Flarefox (who I must ask not to panic during this chapter! o.O), L.M.L, Totem Prime, Khalthar, Fallen Angel 1234, Guest (thank you! I'm so glad you thought it was funny! And I'm really glad you love my story so much! XD Whee!), Cloud-Dancer103, extracutegurl9, and Autobot-Bre for your wonderful, wonderful reviews! And I'm so glad that most of you seemed to think the all out strangeness of the last chapter was funny. I was a little worried about that I will admit. n_n; And who knows what those game designers were thinking of when they put those slugs in the game. I mean really.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter, especially since I think it works real nice, especially the first section. (That was fun including all those new bots. :3) And please leave me some comments when you're done! (sparkly anime eyes are given for good measure here) ;3

And remember, at the end (especially you Flarefox): Don't. Panic. o.O Seriously.

...

The Long Road Home

36 – Flight Prep – 36

Iacon's central communications hub was a mass of movement and noise that threatened to hijack the little bit of sanity Elita-One still had left in her processor. Bots around the room were all speaking at once, sending and receiving messages before filing them by levels of importance and sending them on to whoever needed to get them.

The room itself was shaped like a squashed circle, leaving no out of the way corners where Elita could wait without impeding anyone else. Instead she had chosen to wait near the center of room, just outside the main projector that sat in the middle of the oval room. Blaster was busy in the projection center itself, shouting instructions at the other communications bots around the edge of the room. They were seated at various control boards, doing what they could to make sure that Soundwave wouldn't be able to hack into the signal once they started, although with so many different parties, it was going to be beyond difficult.

Under the chaotic noise of the room, Elita heard the low sound as her sparkmate vented a sigh.

"This will not be easy." He murmured so that only she, and possibly Prowl on his other side, could hear. Privately Elita agreed. Dealing with the neutral parties was always difficult, even when they didn't despise the Autobots for their part in the war. And the longer the war went on, the fewer neutrals there were that didn't blame them on some level for the destruction of their home.

It was a sad fact, but many of the neutrals thought the Autobots were just as much villains as the Decepticons were. To the older ones especially, the Autobots were just the remains of Sentinel Prime's old order, bots that would gladly go back to the strict ways of the deceased Prime's caste system.

It had been worse closer to the start of the war. Fortunately things had changed and the Decepticons' brutality had made a good part of the neutrals rethink things. Even more of them had come to respect Optimus as their Prime after he had offered them the choice of refusing to join the Autobots so they could remain unaligned to either side.

However, most still respected his title of Prime without respecting him. It infuriated Elita to no end, but there was practically nothing she could do about it. Optimus had been made Prime so suddenly that many of the neutrals were still wary of his leadership. There just hadn't been time enough for him to prove himself as a capable leader to them, and they were too distant from the Autobots to have seen the great strides and sacrifices he had already made as Prime.

During the vorns since then, the neutrals had melted away into the background, avoiding contact with both Decepticons and Autobots unless they absolutely had to. Elita knew that now was definitely one of those times, but she doubted the neutrals would listen to them without putting up a good fight first. Still...

"What other choice do we have?" Elita whispered back, reaching over and putting a hand on his arm. "We can't just leave them here." No matter how much she wished she could just slap some particular bots into stasis pods and leave them somewhere. They'd still survive, she just wouldn't have to deal with them for a nice long while.

Elita mentally put away the thought and quietly reprimanded herself. The planet was about to tear itself apart so that it could purge the dark energon and heal. It would take eons, and some of them would never see their home again, so no one could be left behind.

"At least now they won't be able to doubt your right as Prime." Elita said instead. "Not with the Core telling you himself."

Optimus vented another sigh, and Elita heard the relief hidden underneath the sound. She knew that for vorns the idea that the high council had been wrong had haunted him, but no one else had any kind of claim as Prime, so Optimus had pressed forward despite his uncertainty.

Some of the neutrals hadn't been as forgiving. They knew as well as any other bots that the high council technically had no right to name a Prime. Legend said that in the stellar cycles after the Breaking of the Thirteen, the early Primes had been marked by Solus Prime's legendary sword, the Star Saber. It was an unmistakable sign of office, since only a Prime could wield the infamous sword.

Of course, no one had seen the Star Saber for ages now and many believed it never actually existed in the first place. But other stories said that it had been broken during a great battle between the Fallen and Primon after the last of the Thirteen had killed the rest of his brothers. Of course this didn't make sense with the other numerous stories that told about Nexus Prime's adventures throughout the stars or Alchemist Prime going after Liege Maximo, so no one really believed it.

However most bots did believe that the Matrix of Leadership was real, and the Matrix was rumored to have once been the hilt of the Star Saber. Maybe it was just a story, maybe not, but either way, the lore had only increased the Matrix's importance in naming Primes. Rumor said that Sentinel Prime had been chosen by the Matrix of Leadership back during the war with the Quintessons.

But like so many things from that time, the Matrix too had been lost. Until now only the council had even a shadow of the right to name a Prime.

"It will help," Optimus agreed, "but not all of them will believe that the Core spoke to me, or to any of us. But it will help some."

Still in the center of the communication ring, Blaster straightened up and looked over at the three officers. "I've got the last of the neutrals standing by Prime and the security's about as good as it's gonna get. We're ready whenever you are."

Prime nodded at the Autobot Communications Officer and gave Elita's hand a squeeze before making his way to the center of the ring. The bots still inside quickly vacated as Blaster signaled the mech Sprite to patch Prime into the channel where the neutrals were waiting.

Four blue-white holograms sprung into existence in front of Optimus, revealing five somewhat fuzzy figures. From her spot behind him outside the ring, Elita inspected each of the faces of the main neutral leaders. In the center, Metalhawk appeared to be his usual stern self, while Spectra next to him was watching Optimus with her usual level of superiority that had Elita's hackles rising. Crankshaft, the oldest mech there and leader of the largest group of neutrals on the planet, appeared on Metalhawk's other side, face more weathered since the last time Elita had seen him.

Off to the far side, the last two figures shared a projector. Dovetail looked smaller than the Autobot femme remembered, especially compared to the broad shouldered mech standing at attention behind her. The youngest neutral leader's silver-white armor was almost hanging off her frame in spots. Worry rose in Elita's spark at the sight of the younger femme. Time and again Dovetail had proven herself capable of keeping the other neutrals with her safe from the Decepticons, but she did have a self-sacrificing streak in her that, if left unchecked, usually landed her in the medbay with an energon drip to keep her under-fueled systems from going into shut down.

Usually it was the mech behind her that kept that streak in check. Aves was one of the few fliers that had gotten out of Vos before it had been ransacked. He had joined up with the Aerialbots shortly after that, but in an effort to save a fellow Autobot at the battle for the Hydrax Plateau, a Decepticon had torn his wings up all to Pit and he'd been grounded ever since. Before he'd even healed properly, Aves had sought out Dovetail. Why specifically Elita didn't know, but he'd joined up with her group of neutrals after that, saying that at least there he could still be useful. As far as the femme commander knew, he'd been right behind the young femme's shoulder ever since.

"Greetings," Optimus began, nodding at the five blue-white frames in front of him. "I'm afraid I have grim news."

"Is there any other kind nowadays?" Spectra asked before he could say anything else.

Elita narrowed her optics at the older femme from outside the communications ring. Before the war, Spectra had been an elite-caste socialite, living in the all the glamour and prestige Crystal City had to offer. Even now most of the bots from that area listened to her, despite her rampant superiority complex, and for the life of her, Elita just couldn't understand why. At least Metalhawk, with his former military background, knew what he was doing. Elita could at least respect him, despite his prejudice against her Autobots, but Spectra just put her teeth on edge.

Optimus was better at ignoring the older femme's remark than the femme behind him. "The dark energon now spreading through the reservoirs has made its way into the planet. Already the Core of Cybertron has been infected."

Elita watched each of their faces as the news sunk in. At first they reacted much the same – their optics widened and faces went blank in shock – but the similarities lasted only a few kliks. Metalhawk's jaw tightened as he realized what this meant, Spectra drew herself up with a breath as she steeled herself for whatever came next, and Crankshaft shuttered his optics and briefly shook his head before opening them again.

"How can you be sure?" Metalhawk asked, his tone grim, but resigned. "There are still isolated springs that haven't turned yet. How can you be sure this...infection has reached the Core?"

"I have seen it," Optimus told him gravely, "as well as others with me. The Core is still resisting the dark energon, however without a chance to heal itself, it won't be able to last much longer."

"And how, exactly," Spectra asked acidly, "do we heal something as ancient as the Core?"

Elita instinctively squared her shoulders. Now for the difficult-to-swallow bit.

A gruff snort prevented Optimus from answering Spectra's question. "We don't." Crankshaft grumbled as if that should be obvious. "Ya don't fix something as old n'powerful as the Core. Not unless you got some relic of the thirteen 'neath that glittery armor o' yours Specs."

Spectra drew herself up stiffly at the old mech's words, about ready to spit fire for the remark about her plating.

"For Primus' sake shut up," Aves spoke up before Spectra could really lay into the old mech. "Can't you two keep your mouths shut for two seconds? I swear all I've heard for the last orn is you two whining and I'm tired of it. If you have an opinion, please, for the rest of our sakes, keep it to yourselves."

Of course Spectra and Crankshaft couldn't take that lying down and immediately the three bots started to shout all at once. Elita sighed quietly. They'd only been talking for five cycles and already things were starting to fall apart at the seams. At this rate they would need divine intervention to get all these bots off planet.

"Enough!" Metalhawk's sharp voice cut through the sudden bickering. "If you're not going to be quiet long enough to hear what Prime has to say then I will cut your connections and you can find out what's going on later like the rest. Now be silent."

They immediately were. The sudden lack of noise had Elita raising her optic ridges at Prowl next to her, who sent her a look of resigned acceptance in return. They had heard rumors that Metalhawk had become a more central figure among the neutrals since his mentor Nightjar had joined the Well of AllSparks, but this confirmed it. And already aware of the mech's contempt to the war (along with its participants), Elita wondered somewhat anxiously if perhaps Autobot-neutral relations were only going to become more and more strained from now on.

Throwing one last glare at each other, Crankshaft and Spectra settled, turning their attention back to Prime.

Optimus stared down the both of them for a long moment, before returning to the topic at hand.

"As Crankshaft said, we will not be able to fix the Core." Optimus told them, and then before any of them could open their mouths again he added, "However while I was down there, the Core spoke to me. He told me that, with time, he would be able to purge himself of the dark energon."

Optic ridges around the ring rose at that, either wondering at the stability of the Prime's mental state or just plain surprise, Elita couldn't tell.

"However," Optimus continued, dropping the other boot, "he will not be able to support any kind of life while he heals. Therefore he told me that we must leave Cybertron."

His news shut even Spectra up. Metalhawk's mouth dropped open as Crankshaft's half finished shout abruptly turned into a hacking fit that shook his entire frame. Off to the side Dovetail fell heavily into a chair Aves quickly moved behind her, the announcement sweeping the strength out of her knees.

"Leave Cybertron?" She breathed out, aghast.

It was the only thing any of them could think to say. Optimus nodded slowly at the youngest femme.

"But," Dove's optics darted around the room she was in before just as quickly focusing on Prime once more, "but how? And go where?"

Elita watched as Optimus pulled in cool air instead of answering the second question. "I have learned from Omega Supreme that one of the orbiting space bridges was reactivated when the AllSpark passed through it. Its energy is beginning to weaken, however for the moment it is still stable. We will follow the AllSpark through there."

"In what?" Spectra asked, sounding scandalized by all of this.

"We have already been collecting ships from the Hydrax Spaceport-"

"What remains of it." Aves mumbled stiffly, one hand instinctively reaching towards the jagged scar that ran across his hastily patched wing frame.

"-however if you can safely get anything space worthy, I would recommend holding onto it." Prime finished, looking around at each of the five faces in front of him.

There was a moment of stunned silence. Elita could see the neutrals still trying to wrap this new information around their processors, despite the bad connection that blurred their frames around the edges.

"This is madness." Spectra eventually mumbled, and then loud enough for them all to hear quite clearly, "This is madness. After all this time fighting you just expect us to leave?" She asked.

Elita's optics flicked to her mate's back. She knew he was having a hard time just accepting this, although he didn't let the five bots in front of him see that.

A hard laugh escaped Crankshaft before Optimus could answer the femme. "I knew it. I just knew nuthin' good would come of this." He flung a hard look at Prime. "Well I'm not havin' it. I was here afore any o' you even crawled out o' the Well of AllSparks and I'll be here long after you lot finish blowin' yerselves up! So I'm not leaving." He said obstinately.

"Then you will be extinguished." Optimus said bluntly. "Either by the Decepticons or dark energon. If we want to live, we must leave. We have no other choice."

Safely outside the ring where the three neutrals couldn't see her, Elita flinched. From the looks on their faces – even Aves who supported the Autobots even though he no longer was one – she knew that had been the wrong thing to say.

"No choice?" Metalhawk repeated, optic ridges rising slightly as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd just heard. "Now we have no choice? None of us," he indicated the other neutrals present, "have had a choice in this matter since it began! And now look where your actions have gotten us. Our planet is dying and now we are being forced to flee. Your war has finally killed Cybertron!"

Noise suddenly invaded the communications room as the five bots all began to shout again, either at Prime or each other. Even Dovetail waded into the fray in an attempt to remind Metalhawk to keep his head. But even her calm countenance wasn't enough to put a dent in the noise and the argument just grew more and more heated as everyone tried to be heard above the others. Elita looked over at Prowl again, wondering how best to regain control of the situation when someone finally managed to cut through the noise.

"SILENCE!" Optimus roared, making even the Autobots around the room jump in their seats. Instantly, the neutrals' wayward attention snapped to him and for a moment they were completely still as they each remembered who they were talking to.

Optimus looked firmly at each of the five bots in front of him, holding their gaze a klik as his authority sunk in. When he spoke again, his voice was soft, but deafening in the sudden stillness of the communications room.

"Cybertron," he said slowly, "is not dead. It is wounded, sick, but it will heal. The Core expects us to come back. And we will, maybe not as soon as bots would like," he watched them all again, "but one orbit we will be able to return and rebuild what we have lost.

"But until then," he continued in the same soft, frightening tone, "we must leave in order to survive. If you insist on remaining on the planet, I will not stop you, but know that you will perish. There will be no clean energon to sustain you.

"However if you chose to leave with us through the space bridge, we will see you safely to whatever new energon resources we can find. It may take some time to find, but the Core indicated that they exist. There may also be other bots out there if any of the colonies still exist who may be willing to take you in until Cybertron is healed."

Nobody spoke for a long moment, they were still so jittery. But finally Dovetail got up the courage to speak, although her voice was even softer than usual. "T-take us in?" She asked, sounding like a youngling that was afraid they'd been caught doing something they weren't supposed to. "Aren't we going to stick together?"

Some of the quiet danger left Optimus' voice as he turned to the youngest femme. "I do not expect so. We will do what we can to ensure your safety wherever the space bridge sends us, however the Autobots and I must find the AllSpark. Returning it to Cybertron would greatly ease the Core's burden and return the planet to a livable status that much sooner, as well as ensure the future of our race."

Metalhawk shifted slightly, gathering Optimus Prime's attention. This time the neutral waited for Prime to acknowledge him before speaking.

"But isn't it too dangerous to return the AllSpark to Cybertron while the dark energon lens is still here? If the AllSpark is contaminated..." he trailed off, unable to express his horror at the thought of what the future would be like if that happened.

"We will deal with it." Optimus said. Metalhawk waited for some kind of explanation, but Optimus refused to give one.

Privately, Elita wondered how they were going to pull that one off, but didn't voice her morbid curiosity.

After another moment of careful silence, Crankshaft snorted. "So," he said somewhat mulishly, "what now then?"

Optimus turned his head towards the old bot. "We have already started gathering ships," he said again, "however pilots are another matter. Anybot that knows how to fly should come forward so we can see how many ships we'll be able to get off the ground. You need to start gathering supplies now as well. Any fuel you can find to stretch our energon reserves needs to be saved. You need to be ready to leave as soon as possible."

He took another moment to look at each individual face. When he spoke again, his tone was more understanding than before. "I know how difficult this is for you to hear." He told them and Elita thought that most of them believed him. "This is a tremendous loss to all of us, but we will make it through these dark times. And I firmly believe that whatever lies beyond that portal is our best – and last – hope until the day when Cybertron is whole once more and we can return."

Prime met each of their optics, and Elita saw the way his steady gaze bolstered their individual courage. "Autobots will be in touch with you shortly to assist you in your preparations. Until then, you know what you need to do. Prime out."

The neutrals acknowledged the Prime before cutting their individual connections. The holograms faded out sharply, leaving a blue imprint on Elita-One's optics. She blinked it away and vented a quiet sigh.

"Well at least that's out of the way." She murmured to Optimus as he joined her on the outer edge of the ring.

Optimus nodded. Now they just had the Autobots' preparations to see too.

...

"What do you mean we can't go back?!"

Aria's shout held more than a little desperation in it and all around the hallway, heads twisted around to see what had the organic femme so upset.

Prime ignored them as he looked down at Aria, a sad but stern expression on his face as he made his way through the halls. "We don't have the time or the energon to spare Ariah. Everything we have is going to the ships and we need to get through the space bridge as quick as we can." He stopped walking and turned to look at Aria face to face before telling her softly. "I'm sorry Ariah, but we can't rescue Wheeljack."

"But," Aria's eyes were wide and frightened, "we can't just leave him!" She protested. "That's not what we do. We don't leave people behind!"

Optimus knelt down in front of his smallest friend and carefully put a digit on her shoulder. "Ariah, going back for him would use up energon that we cannot spare. We've got to conserve what we have left to get the ships off the ground. We might not have enough as it is, and anything we use means more bots won't be able to escape Cybertron before the Core begins its hibernation." He tilted his head to meet her eyes when she looked away. "Do you understand Ariah? They would perish. And Wheeljack wouldn't want that."

"But he's still alive!" She shouted frantically. "That's means he'll be left here when the place goes dark!"

Optimus hung his head. "I know." He murmured sadly.

Aria's mouth worked soundlessly a moment. She just couldn't believe this. They couldn't-he wouldn't- "But-" she finally remembered how to form words, "but it's Wheeljack. We-we need him. He's-" The words stopped coming as her throat closed up.

Optimus carefully nudged her smaller frame in understanding. "I know." He told her again.

The water collecting in Aria's eyes finally tumbled down her face. She reached up in surprise and dabbed at the wetness. She hadn't even realized they were there.

"Oh God," she mumbled, putting her face in her hands as a thought struck her, "poor Luna."

Optimus shuttered his optics a brief moment. He had spoken with Moonracer earlier. The femme had been near inconsolable since the engineer had vanished from Tyger Pax, but the news that they wouldn't even be able to search for him had hit her hard.

The ping of an incoming message drew Prime's attention away from Aria. It was Hound, who'd been sent to help Spectra's group. Apparently the older femme's energon stockpiles were larger than they had accounted for – the first good news he'd heard all orbit! – but reports showed no clean way to get the much needed fuel out of Crystal City without the Decepticons finding them.

Optimus frowned. "Ariah, I have to go." He told her gently.

Aria only nodded, unable to speak.

Optimus sent her what comfort he could through their informal bond, before straightening up. He needed to talk to Jazz about a distraction so that Hound, the neutrals, and the energon could get safely to Iacon.

Aria didn't look up from her hands after he had left. This wasn't the first time she'd had to deal with loss. She'd lost friends before. But she'd never had to leave one behind. And, somehow, that was even worse.

Suddenly she felt she had to get out of here. If she stayed there any longer she'd just end up bawling like a newborn in the middle of the hallway and she was in no shape to hear anyone else's 'I'm sorries'.

The threat of being pitied was the only thing that convinced Aria to drop her hands away from her face and make her feet move. She headed towards the nearest door that would take her away from all the heartbreaking looks she felt being cast in her direction.

...

As he watched the scurry of bots carrying supplies to the massive ship Alpha Trion had somehow pulled out of thin air, Nathanial couldn't help but think that the old mech had been expecting this mass exodus for some time now.

"So where were you hiding this thing all these years?" He asked the Archivist standing next to him.

Alpha Trion didn't look up from his datapad as he checked and rechecked the list of supplies slated for the Autobots' new flagship, the Ark.

"What? This old thing?" He said instead as he glanced over the rim of the datapad at the ancient ship now listing slightly in the hanger it had mysteriously appeared in the other orbit. How the Archivist had got it in here Nathanial couldn't even guess, but here it was. "I found it...lying in a scrap heap outside of town."

Nathanial slid Alpha Trion a look. "Yeah, right." He grumbled. "If that were true it would have been bombed long before now." He threw an arm out to take in the grit-covered rust-orange hull of the ship. "Look at that paintjob! Peg could spot it from space." He frowned. "If the very thought of space didn't send her spiraling down into aggressive panic attacks that is."

"Yes, how is that going to work?" Alpha Trion asked as he ticked another item off the list. "I heard about what happened down at the entrance to the Underworld. If she's that bad on the ground, how are you going to get her out of the atmosphere?"

Nathanial's frown deepened. "I'll tell you when I figure it out."

They watched in silence a moment as mechs and femmes, arms loaded with supplies and energon, went to and from the rounded ship. Overall Nat thought it had a peculiar shape, like a disk with a large Lego block stuck on behind it. The rectangular block had four thrusters jutting out the back, each one large enough that Nathanial, Peg, and Aria could have lived in one with more than enough space between them. Distantly, Nathanial wondered just what the ship had been used for in its previous life...and what it had done to deserve that awful paintjob.

"She's a thing of beauty, isn't she?" Someone asked from behind, startling Nathanial out of his thoughts.

The man glanced over his shoulder to see Sideswipe coming up behind them. His grin was even wider than usual as he propped his hands on his hips and beamed up at the Ark.

Nathanial snorted. "You're just saying that because Prime agreed to let you fly her. Although how you pulled that off, I'll never know."

"Easy human," Sideswipe said as he grinned and jabbed his thumb at his chest, "cause I'm the only one that knows how."

Alpha Trion chuckled on Nathanial's other side. "Theoretically at any rate." He mumbled under his breath as he scanned the supply list once more.

Nathanial ignored the older mech's muttering and threw an skeptical look up at the silver mech. "And where, pray tell, did you learn how to fly an ancient, orange cargo ship?"

Sideswipe shrugged one shoulder, looking far too proud of himself to set Nat at ease. "How else? I read the manual."

"Sideswipe!" Ratchet suddenly barked from the entrance of the hanger bay. "Quit lounging around and come help me! We've got to get the critical patients loaded and settled before we even think of doing anything else. Now get over here and pick a gurney!"

Sideswipe was in so good a mood that he didn't even argue with the old medic as he swaggered over.

Nathanial watched him go, all brash and confident in his untested ability to fly the enormous ship.

"That decides it." He finally muttered. "I'm staying with you. Peg and I'll just take over Aria's house and wait until the Core wakes up again. That solves all my problems. Peg won't have to worry about vacuums and I won't have to deal with his no doubt deranged driving." He gestured at Sideswipe's back as the young mech reappeared, helping a heavily limping Inferno towards the ship's open hatchway.

"Oh yes," Alpha Trion agreed sagely, "apart from the fact you'll both be dead within the stellar cycle it's the perfect plan." He raised an optic ridge at the smaller being. "Why didn't you think of it before?"

Nathanial shook his head and privately wondered at the amount of sarcasm that came with age. When he looked up, his eyes locked onto Ratchet as he wheeled a gurney slowly across the room, Hoist walking next to him rolling the IV tree and its multi-colored fluids that were hooked into the bright yellow patient.

Bumblebee was out cold on the wheeled bed, unaware of anything around him. Nathanial watched, face grim, as Ratchet and Hoist carefully rolled the young mech onboard the burnt orange ship. They were taking a big risk, he knew. If the ship went down, it would effectively be the end not only of the Autobots, but a number of defenseless patients and a handful of neutral passengers as well.

"Have you told Optimus that you're staying here yet?" Nathanial asked quietly after Bumblebee and his escort had disappeared into the ship.

"No," Alpha Trion said as if it was no big deal, "there's so much to do before you all leave that I haven't had the time."

When Alpha Trion didn't say anything else, Nathanial went back to frowning thoughtfully at the old ship.

"I thought you said you didn't want to play God?" He eventually said so quietly that only the Archivist could hear him. Alpha Trion looked down and Nathanial nodded at the ship that the old mech had so conveniently found for Prime and the other Autobots. "Doesn't this play into one of those 'pre-recorded outcomes' from those different universes or something like that?"

The old mech's optics flicked to the Ark and then down at the human next to him. He smiled grimly. "Possibly." He answered cryptically. "And to answer your first question, no, I don't want to, but in this case the order didn't come from me. I'm just a messenger now, human Nathanial." He told him almost cheekily.

Nat shot Alpha Trion a confused look, but before he could ask who out there could be telling one of the Thirteen what to do, he caught sight of the large, hard bound book wedged under the old mech's arm. It was the same book that had been lying open on the Archivist's desk when Alpha Trion had requested him to come clean about the lens, Nathanial realized. The one he was always scratching away in with that old fashioned quill of his. The same one that Aria said Alpha Trion had had for ages…

Questions began to form up in Nathanial's head, preposterous questions that, at any other time, he would have written off as insane. Perhaps they were still insane, only now Nathanial was just cracked enough to ask them.

Before he could convince himself to give any of the questions a voice, Alpha Trion jerked his chin at something moving behind the line of patients now being helped onto the Ark.

"It appears you're needed elsewhere human."

Nathanial looked where the old mech had indicated. Beyond the line of slowly moving Autobots, half hidden by the ship's massive shadow, he could just make out Aria walking quickly along the wall. Even at this distance, he could see the stiff set of her shoulders and the hurried way she walked without looking at anything around her. He didn't need to see her eyes to know that they were red around the rims from trying not to cry.

Alpha Trion finally looked away from his check list and down at Nathanial. "Well go on then." He told him. "It's not like you're of much help around here anyways."

Nathanial didn't bother denying that fact before gathering up enough of his courage to head after Aria as she left the hanger entirely and headed for the elevator next door.

...

"I've lost more than my phone," Aria thought for the thousandth time as she stepped off the elevator at the top floor and headed towards her quiet place, "so much more than my phone."

It was a ridiculous thing to think, but even knowing that, the thought wouldn't leave her head.

Inwardly, Aria groped for the line in her spark-heart that belonged to Wheeljack, but her incorporeal fingers found nothing where Wheeljack should have been. It was like she had put her phone on silent and then lost it. Except more.

Hence the stupid thought.

Without thought, Aria touched the low set door controls. The large door swept aside with an almost silent shff and she stepped into the semi-circular room. Ahead of her, the floor length window greeted her, with the city beyond just barely visible in the dark. For longer then she could remember this room had been her sanctuary. Somewhere she could disappear to when things got too hectic or overwhelming. She had always felt safe up here.

But not now.

"Why can't I find him?" She asked herself. "Why isn't he where he's supposed to be?"

Aria reached for Wheeljack again, pushing through the empty space when she didn't find him right away. She squeezed her eyes shut and stretched out farther, calling out to him in the darkness, but he just wouldn't answer. She reached even farther, groping along in the dark that surrounded her now. In the back of her mind, she knew she was entering that dangerous zone where she had gotten lost before when she'd gone into spark-shock. She couldn't go much further or she'd run the risk of losing herself again and she was already starting to feel so cold...

With a breathless gasp, she snapped back into her body. Cold sweat ran down her face as she stood there panting a long cycle. All that effort and still Wheeljack was just a dark hole in her chest. Nothing had changed except now she felt like she had the flu.

Perceptor had tried to explain to her that Wheeljack must have constricted their bond to try and keep her from feeling...whatever it was he was going through. He'd done so very scientifically, using small words to try and help Aria comprehend what was happening to the both of them. But the only thing she'd understood was that Wheeljack was suffering and he'd shut her out so she wouldn't have to suffer with him.

And now they couldn't even save him...

With a half strangled sound, Aria shakily leaned her forehead against the bar in front of the window. The drop beyond the window was dizzying and she squeezed her eyes shut to try and block it out, but the feeling of empty space stretching out in front of her was too much to erase completely.

"Wheeljack..." she choked out, "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

There was nothing else she could think to say and the words dissolved in her throat. Her chest was on fire from keeping the sobs in, but she felt cold all over. She gripped the railing in front of her hard enough that her fingernails started to turn blue, but she still couldn't keep her fingers from shaking.

Heavy metallic fabric suddenly dropped down on her shoulders and she jerked her head up, the sudden movement making her head spin. She wasn't sure what she had expected, but Nathanial standing behind her with a sad expression in his eyes hadn't been it.

She unlatched her trembling hands from around the metal railing and buried her fingers in the blanket he'd thrown around her. The material was cool at first, but quickly warmed up.

Even then she still couldn't stop shaking. Mercifully, Nathanial didn't say anything as Aria clutched at the blanket around her as if it could keep all of the broken pieces inside her together.

"Wheeljack-" The word stumbled out of her mouth.

Nathanial looked down at the floor briefly as he nodded. "I know."

Thinking he couldn't possibly know so quickly Aria staggered on. "We can't-he won't-" she sobbed hoarsely, "we're going to leave him." She finally wrenched the words free.

Nathanial met her wide eyes. Her face was pale and her mouth wouldn't stop quivering as even now she tried to keep the storm of tears back. Her heart was breaking, he knew, because despite all their good reasoning, all the lives they would save by leaving him behind, Aria knew they were still abandoning Wheeljack to the Decepticons.

Somewhere in the back of his chest, Nat felt his own heart ache at the thought. The engineer had been his friend too. Leaving him behind left a hollow feeling in his gut.

"I know." Nat said again, voice somewhat rougher than before. There was nothing else he could say.

Aria finally cracked. The storm finally broke through and she buried her face in her hands as her shoulders shook with the force of her crying. Hesitantly, Nathanial put a hand on her shoulder, over the blanket still draped around her.

She surprised him. Instead of just placidly accepting the comfort or shrugging him off, she turned into his hold and buried her face in his shoulder, arms tentatively wrapping around him a moment later as her fingers grasped at his shirt as if she was afraid he'd just melt away into thin air.

Too emotionally exhausted to feel awkward or uncertain, Nathanial held her close in turn, pulling the blanket back up over her shoulder when it was dragged down by gravity.

They didn't speak. They didn't even try. They just stood there for a long, long time, wrapped up in their grief and each other's arms as they mourned the loss of a friend they knew, in all likelihood, they would never see again.