Fallout: Apocalypse
Chapter 48
By Nan00k
Second to last chapter (with an interlude also between them)! :D Sam makes plans for his new future, Barns and Danny meet an old friend, and Optimus sees brighter times.
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Warnings: character death, foul language, violence, disturbing imagery and discussion, religious ideological discussions, theoretical science, and original characters
Disclaimer: Transformers © Dreamworks/Hasbro. The original characters found in this story were created explicitly for this story.
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Plumas NEST Base
California
It was one week after the end of the end of the world and Sam was still trying to catch up.
It wasn't like there was a steady stream of information coming his way, not when he was all the way at the bottom of the information food chain, but Sam heard plenty from Lennox and the 'Bots. No one was cheering, or talking about throwing a parade. It was all straightforward "this is how it went" talk.
The teams in China and Brazil had fought valiantly against both the Decepticon forces and the drones, winning both battles. The U.S. Fourth Fleet was working with allies in South America, and the Chinese felt confident they could handle any Decepticon incursions that might be attempted. Here in America, Optimus had led the Los Angeles team to success bringing down a large portion of the Decepticons on Earth, including Galvatron.
In Germany, of course, the European team had handled a large influx of drones. And… the Fallen. Rumors were running wild, but Sam had heard the truth from Barns himself. Jazz and Thundercracker had brought down the Fallen.
It was a lot to take in, and days later Sam still found himself walking around the Plumas base (under repair for the second time that year) in a quiet reverie. Mikaela was safe and already back to work helping Ratchet patch up those Autobots who needed repairs. Miles was back in Nevada for the first time in a month; his 'disappearance' a month ago had strained his relations with his mother.
Sam had called his parents only twice in the last week, and even then, he had kept it short. He didn't know what to tell them. They had seen the news, just like the rest of the world, but they didn't know what Sam's role in it had been. All they needed, all they wanted to know right now was that he hadn't been in any of the major battles and that he and Mikaela were both uninjured. That was enough for them.
The rest of the world, however…
Sam had spent several hours laughing at the television, almost to the point of minor hysteria, when the hours and hours of repeat footage of the battle in LA had finally melted into commentary by news pundits. He wanted to punch most of them in the face for the things they said about the Autobots—that they had endangered lives unnecessarily, that they had caused more damage than they had prevented – but everyone kept telling him that was to be expected.
There were so many unknowns, Sam couldn't blame people for panicking even after the word of their victory went global. People were cheering that the "bad aliens" were "gone," but there was still a prevailing sense of fear. Even though NEST and the Autobots forces had succeeded, the world was still asking, "What next?"
Sam was asking that, too. He didn't pry into the plans of the Autobots, or of NEST, because he knew whatever they decided, his opinion wouldn't matter. He was content with that. He was just as happy to sit on the sidelines, watching as his friends moved toward some sort of happiness and peace.
Plumas was safe now, especially since they had a lot more Autobots around than usual. The Decepticons on Earth were in hiding and being hunted down, and the rest had fled into space. A section of the Nemesis had survived the energy weapon assault, which the US Navy had apparently been hiding this whole time, and been captured by the Autobots from the Hyperion. They were currently using it as an impromptu prison for any mechs they captured or that surrendered. Not many had, unfortunately.
They needed time to heal. All of them. Sam thought he would head back to Tranquility in a few days, with Mikaela, to try to clear his head. For now, he was okay wandering the base in quiet thought. He ignored almost everyone he encountered, at least until he reached the south end of the compound.
Looking up into the gray air, Sam smiled up at Bumblebee.
"Hey, Bee," he said, tucking his hands further down into his jacket pockets. Without his adrenaline rushing, it was sure cold out. Sam could deal with it, however.
The Autobot had been walking toward him and now stopped. "Sam," Bumblebee replied. His optics shone bright with a smile. "I saw Mikaela earlier."
"Yeah, she's doing okay," Sam said. He tried to keep the tense nervousness in his gut out of his smile as he recalled the stories Mikaela had brought back with her. It was a bit much to take in, even though he had survived his own moment of violence here on the base. "I'm really, really glad she made it out of L.A. in one piece."
Bumblebee started to walk, and Sam began to walk with him. "Optimus said she did wonderfully, and wasn't in harm's way," the Autobot said calmly, a voice of reason that reassured Sam and eased some of his tension.
Sam nodded, walking easily next to the mech; Bumblebee was clearly walking slowly for his sake. "Good."
His girlfriend had survived one of the more intense battles for Earth. Galvatron had been killed just a few miles from where she was working to patch up injured Autobots . She had worked hard and more than earned the commendation Optimus had given her in front of the NEST team. He had thanked all of them for their efforts. No one had slacked. Everyone had given their all, and that was a humbling feeling for Sam.
"I never got the chance to thank you," Bumblebee said, bringing him out of his thoughts. Bumblebee smiled at Sam's confused expression. "For helping last week. You and Miles both."
That made Sam laugh a little, recalling his rather meager attempt to answer the call to battle. "Hey, you big guys did all the real fighting," he pointed out.
Bumblebee tilted his helm. "You helped, Sam," he said firmly, with all the sort of warmness and friendship that defined him.
A few weeks ago, Sam might have argued.
Instead, Sam laughed again and looked away.
"…you're welcome," he said. He watched as pale clouds drifted overhead. "Thanks for saving us."
"I did no more than anyone else, but it was my pleasure," Bumblebee replied. There was a small pause, punctuated by the sound of their feet on the concrete in their slow loop of the compound, and then he asked, "How are you?"
Twitching at the question as well as a sudden gust of cold wind, Sam took a few seconds to consider his answer.
"Okay, I guess," he admitted at length.
Bumblebee slowed even more. "You guess?" he prompted.
Sam shrugged. "It's all a lot to take in." There was no point in avoiding the truth.
"How so?"
How were things not too much to hear, digest and accept as reality lately? Sam chuckled and shook his head.
"The Decepticons are on the run… Galvatron and the Fallen guy are dead…" he began, trying to remember what he had witnessed after he was sure his friends were (mostly) intact. "CNN is still freaking out and I'm about to freak out on FOX for all their bad-mouthing of the Autobots for what happened in Los Angeles…" He shrugged again. "It's a lot."
Bumblebee rumbled lowly. "True."
Sam bit the inside of his cheek. "Where did the 'Cons go?" he asked finally, glancing up at his friend. That question had haunted him for days. No one outside the loop of top level information wanted to really ask, though.
As usual, Bumblebee made it seem that Sam was included in that group of individuals, sharing the information he had, even though it was probably all watered down. "Most are probably in hiding on Earth. We will hunt them down, or force those in hiding to come forward in surrender," he explained. He waved at a distant Jolt who jogged past them. "Many of the fliers and those on Nemesis tried to escape from the planet and the moon, so we'll have to scour the solar system thoroughly."
Sam considered all of that and wondered how they were going to enforce that "hunting them down" rule. It would require the Autobots to span the globe and interact with even more foreign governments… The global media machine was having a field day covering what little information the governments were allowing them. The continuing pursuit of the Decepticons would keep the Autobots in the public eye, requiring more frequent international stops and public interactions. Not to mention the unofficial viral videos.
It would be interesting, Sam reasoned, to say the least.
"And… it's true? What's left of Nemesis is on the dark side of the moon?" That much had only been a rumor in the news, but Sam had a feeling it wasn't too far from the mark.
Bumblebee nodded. "Yes. For now, at least. It's the only suitable prison we can afford right now."
Trying to envision a mech-sized Alcatraz somewhere in deep space far, far away from Earth and failing, Sam tried to focus on the more positive aspect of that.
"Man, I can't believe we took a whole star ship," he said, grinning. He looked up at a barely-visible moon, wondering what was happening up there now. He was so glad that he wouldn't have to offer his assistance there. "That's even bigger than winning a battle down here, right?"
"Yes and no." Bumblebee did a little mech-shrug. "The pulse weapon your Navy used destroyed most of Nemesis and left that section of the ship without defenses. Ultra Magnus led the Hyperion's crew well in taking advantage of the situation and using the aid the human fliers were able to offer, so it was risky to take Nemesis, but not impossible. They did well." Slowly Bumblebee stopped walking and Sam saw the mech was staring out into the forest behind the metal fencing. "The battles here on Earth were far more challenging, considering how sparsely dispersed our troops were."
Sam stared out at the forest for as long as he could, but the nervousness started to itch at his chest again. He turned to his friend and thought about all of that. He didn't know what to make of it. Or rather, he didn't know what he was allowed to make of it.
"…So…" he trailed off, looking up again.
Bumblebee stared back patiently. "So."
Sam squinted his eyes. "The Autobots won?" It was almost impossible to say out loud, to speak of it as a definite fact after two years of doubt.
The yellow Autobot shook his head. "No. Not yet. We have made a huge step forward, I will admit. There are many trials yet to come," he said. His door panels twitched, however, like he was holding back a similar nervousness. "Optimus is certain we have won Earth, though."
"…And…" Sam shifted on his feet. "That means… Earth is safe." It felt ridiculous saying that so simply.
"Yes, Sam." Bumblebee smiled and lowered himself down so they were almost face to face. "Humanity fought with all it had, and it won. The Autobots can take only minimal credit. You are the ones who deserve the honor of victory here for your world."
"We couldn't have done it without you," Sam said, meaning it. There was no way they'd ever have gotten close to this success without the Autobots. Their guidance, their firepower…
"Perhaps not, but we certainly could not have done it without you either," Bumblebee replied. He looked away and seemed to reflect on his own thoughts. "I am glad. I am very glad Earth is safe, for all of you."
Sam tried to ignore how his throat went dry. "For you, too."
"I don't know if your leaders will give us asylum or not," Bumblebee replied. He said it wryly, as if it were a joke, but they all knew how serious it was. "There are talks going on now. We may set up a settlement on Mars."
Sam froze. "Mars?" he repeated. "That's like… close. Sort of." Slowly, he winced. "Not really."
The Autobots were being sent that far away? It wasn't far in cosmic sense, but…
"Not close for human technology yet, but don't worry, Sam. I won't leave you," Bumblebee replied, automatically knowing the root of Sam's distress. "Optimus has asked your government to extend immigration VISAs to several of those under his leadership." He paused and then added in amusement, "Including the time travelers."
That took a second to sink in. "…They're going to get Green Cards?" Sam asked, intrigued.
"The humans definitely will. They don't have any other place to go, after all," Bumblebee replied. He sat down with a quiet creak and settled as Sam moved in to sit close as well. "And, if your Congress agrees, there will be a formal system set up for any Autobot who wishes to obtain citizenship as well. England and France have also agreed to such set-ups."
"Wait…but…" Sam tried to follow that. "You can't be an Autobot anymore?"
Bumblebee seemed amused still. "No, we can. It will be complicated, but at the very least, I will be able to live in your country as a legal alien. Maybe even a citizen in time." He laughed, the sound only faintly staticy. "I know your press will just love that."
The press would, wouldn't it? Sam scoffed. "Oh, man… O'Reilly's gonna have a field day," he joked. He grinned and patted his friend's knee. "I'm happy, though. I'm really happy you can stay, Bee. I don't know what I'd do if you couldn't."
"I would never leave you if I could help it, Sam," the mech replied. He leaned his head closer, his shadow a comfort. "You are my best friend."
Sometimes, it was impossible to understand how the media could claim the mechs didn't feel, or couldn't understand human relationships. If Sam had learned anything, it was that the humans were the ones who had to learn how to feel more like the 'Bots. He smiled at his companion and nodded.
"You're my best friend, too," he said, meaning it with everything he had. He paused and shoved his hands back into his pockets. "Thank you."
"For what?" Bumblebee asked, surprised.
Everything was probably a better response, but Sam simply smiled. "Meeting me."
The blue lights that made up Bumblebee's eyes glowed softer. "Oh, Sam…" He tilted his helm gently. "Thank you for the same."
It was cold, and there was a fence separating them from the actual grass, but Sam didn't care. He dropped down onto the tarmac and decided to enjoy the fresh air with his friend all the same. Bumblebee probably couldn't feel things the way humans did physically, but he could enjoy the peace and quiet like anyone else could.
Peace and quiet.
Sam laughed again softly.
"I guess I should think about the future now," he said, musing. "I don't have any way of participating in your war now. No need."
"I hope not," Bumblebee replied, picking up the conversation without a hitch. "Most likely it will be off-planet fighting that remains. The only unsecured high ranking Decepticon who could lead a threat against us is Shockwave. But our information suggests he is nowhere near this location in space."
"True." Sam bit his lip. "I guess that means they're not going to need soldiers after this, huh?"
Bumblebee rumbled lowly. "They won't need many new ones, at least," he replied. "NEST will remain active, in case we are surprised, but we will continue to be optimistic for now."
Sam stared up at the sky, considering.
"But they're always going to need someone to tell the rest of the world what happened to you," he added.
"And to you," Bumblebee pointed out. He turned his helm and stared at Sam expectantly.
Sam arched an eyebrow. "I never liked history," he said. He smirked. "But I guess since this kinda happened to me, maybe I can make it work."
His guardian returned the amused gesture. "The protection and distribution of knowledge is never a bad thing, Sam," he replied. "You will excel at whatever you do."
Taking a deep breath, Sam lay back and looked up at the sky overhead. "Thanks, buddy."
"You're welcome, Sam," Bumblebee said affectionately.
The lull that followed was filled with a quiet sense of rightness that made all of Sam's fears of the future fade. They had plenty of time to worry about politics, renegade generals, and any other trouble this crumbling war could throw at them yet. Now… now was the time to rest and enjoy that quiet.
It truly was a beautiful afternoon.
Sam closed his eyes and sighed.
0000
Being back on the Plumas base gave everyone a sense of normalcy. For Barns, there was also a sense of urgency. A good kind, but a real kind of urgency. It made it difficult to sleep, even when surrounded by friends and curled up with his fiancée.
Apparently, one of the first things the United States government wanted to do, after rounding up the Decepticons remaining on Earth, was to get rid of all the Autobots. That made Barns uneasy, but once Optimus and Lennox explained it to everyone during a large conference several days after the Plumas crew was reunited, it was understandable.
It wasn't like the United States was literally throwing the Autobots out the door, thankfully, though many in power wanted that desperately. Keller was holding on strong and the President was on their side. The majority of the public wanted the Autobots gone as soon as possible, but they didn't want to be seen as kicking their saviors to the curb either.
The deal, Prowl told them, was that the Hyperion had to leave Earth's air space, which was acceptable. It would be temporarily stationed on the moon, where it would be used to monitor Nemesis. Eventually, they'd be moving to Mars, where, in theory, a settlement would be devised for all Cybertronians needing shelter. This was final, since many human leaders were opposed to "giving so many liberties" to the aliens, but as Keller put it, it wasn't like Mars was humanity's to give or refuse anyway.
The Autobots were still playing nice, however, as always. Barns admired Prime's resolve to give humanity the leading role in deciding how to handle their Autobot allies. He had faith in their generosity, so it was difficult to remain too pessimistic.
Barns was astonished and flattered when Prime asked him, as well as WJ and Jazz, to help play a role in the organization of the Mars colony. If it did pass Congress' approval, and the humans helped give resources to the Cybertronians, they'd need to make sure they were efficient in how they designed the settlement. Barns was honored and agreed to help as much as he could. He was incredibly interested in helping WJ find a way to improve Earth shuttles so that the humans could travel to Mars also, sending their own supplies independent of Cybertronian ships. Since the Autobots weren't going to share their military weapons, the humans were very intent on at least gleaning what they could from their engineering and space technology.
But that was a long time away. In the meantime, Barns looked forward to taking online classes and getting even more knowledge to prepare himself for the job ahead of him. Engineering was fun and simple to him; he knew that sooner or later, he'd be helping his friends and allies to build their own home. It was the least he could do, considering how much they had given to him and his friends.
The Autobots weren't the only ones preparing for a future home. His family was still reeling from at the abrupt cessation of hostilities, trying to figure out what to do next. Kass was still apprenticing under Ratchet and hoped to someday be a full time medic on Earth for any mechs who needed it, once the Alien Citizenship Act passed (oh, how the American leaders didn't like that one either.)
The four humans were scheduled to get their own green cards soon, which eased some tension. That meant they would all be able to stay in the US and continue the educations the military was providing for them, although only Danny was interested in using it for her future (a degree in media studies wasn't exactly going to be a good provider for her, but it made her happy). Kass had a teacher all her own, and Rachel just liked taking classes for learning, but she had a solid future as it was.
"You're going to be a soldier?" Danny had asked her.
Rachel had shrugged. "If they need me, I'll shoot things," she said. "I'm not leaving Earth anytime soon, but I'm going to help with the Decepticon round ups."
That was a long-term career for a human, so Barns was happy for her as well. The mechs in their group would eventually have to decide what they wanted to do, but Barns knew that none of them would leave Earth, even if the colony was a success. Their home was here now. And since they would have the chance to make a real home, there was no reason to leave.
Happiness was sorely won, but they were going to make the most of it. Barns was sure.
That afternoon, he had spent a decent amount of time with Danny, just relaxing and unpacking his things at long last from his trip overseas. Danny had been content to read a magazine while he quietly folded shirts, but after awhile, she rolled over to face him.
"Have you told everyone about us yet?" she asked suddenly.
Barns glanced at her, arching an eyebrow. "About us what?"
Danny made a tsking sound and put her hands on her hips. "Being engaged!" she exclaimed, as if he should have read her mind.
Yes. That. Barns laughed and put his last pile of clothing away in the cooler he used as a dresser. "Oh… not yet," he said. He grinned wickedly. "Want to surprise them now?"
"Sure!" Danny said, giggling. She linked arms with him and they started walking toward the front of the hangar, ignoring the parts of the roof that were missing still. "Oh, man, Rachel and Kass are going to freak out, but Wildrider is going to have a full out panic attack!"
"One surprise after another," Barns replied, chuckling. He knew they were going to cause a real stir, and he was glad for it. They needed this sort of thing. "It is a good time—"
"Hey! Hey, wait! Rancourt, wait up!"
Both of them stopped and Barns turned around quickly to see where the shout had come from. He was surprised to see a solider in army fatigues rushing up to them. He had said his name specifically, but Barns could not think of a single reason why an unfamiliar solider would know him, or need to talk to him. Surely, they hadn't started planning for the colony yet…?
When the soldier skidded to a stop before him and grinned expectantly at Barns, the confusion only grew. He wasn't wearing a name tag on his shirt either.
"Euh?" Barns stared uncomprehendingly at the unfamiliar man. Brown hair, tall, almost familiar if he squinted… "Yes…?"
"It's me, Joe," the soldier said, happy for some reason. Barns' lack of greeting didn't faze him. He gestured at himself. "You got me outta trouble, back in Germany."
That almost clicked. "I… did?" Barns froze and abruptly realized who the man was. Back in Wiesbaden, on the base—this was the solider he had helped escape from the drones! "Oh! Forgive me! I didn't recognize you."
Thankfully, Joe laughed. It was oddly familiar. "Don't worry about it. I just transferred in from the Midwest. I wanted to thank you in person for saving my life," he said good-naturedly. "All you guys really came through for us."
He didn't think he deserved that much praise; he had only done what was natural. Still, he understood where Joe was coming from. Everyone there deserved recognition for doing what little they could.
"This is my fiancée, Danielle Elizabeth," Barns offered, smiling as Danny stepped up.
Always one to like meeting new people, Danny grinned and shook Joe's hand exuberantly. "Hi!"
"Pleasure to meet you, miss," Joe said, grinning back. He turned and pointed behind him. "Here comes my little lady now."
Barns looked over and saw a dark haired woman walking over slowly to them. She smiled and glanced over at Joe as if waiting for the affirmative to come closer as not to interrupt anything. She was definitely not military, considering she was holding a baby and was dressed in civilian clothing.
"Joe?" she asked, peering at the two young adults in front of them. Her baby was probably only two years old. He had the same dark hair his father had. Danny smiled at the baby, who had a small toy car in one hand.
"Ah, right. Theresa, this is Barnaby Rancourt," Joe began, gesturing between them. Barns shook Theresa's hand and smiled at her. Joe seemed pleased. "Major Lennox told me where to find you."
Barns hesitated when he realized he didn't know the man's surname. "I'm sorry, I never caught your last name…?"
Joe blinked, and then slapped a hand to his forehead. "Oh, sorry! My fault with that. I always tend to forget that part, right, honey? Our first date was a riot…" He chuckled while his wife sighed and rocked their son. Joe turned and helped his hand out properly to Barns. "Anyway, name's Captain Joseph Goddard."
Instinct told Barns to take the extended hand, but every one of his limbs had frozen up. He stared—gawked, really—at Joe and his wife—and then his son. Joe hesitated and lowered his hand a little. That made Barns' brain react, though he was vaguely certain anything more complex than talking would be impossible for him.
"…Goddard?" he repeated, eyes wide.
That…
That was impossible.
Beside him, Danny was also staring with similar eyes, speechless.
"Yeah," Joe replied, smiling uncertainly. He fidgeted as he gestured back at his wife and son. "And this, this is our son, Piers. I've applied to work with NEST, and since they're finally building some civilian dorms down in Plumas, Piers and Theresa will be sticking around."
Barns slowly looked down at the bundle of pudgy legs and the small face that peered back at him with wide brown eyes.
He knew those eyes.
Danny reached out and grabbed hold of his arm. Her grip was tight; she was trembling.
Barns looked up at Joe and realized he had to find his voice.
"May I?" he asked in a hoarse voice. He looked back at the baby and weakly lifted his arms.
Theresa looked uncertain about their behavior, but Joe was more lenient. He took the baby from his wife and moved a little closer.
"Sure… are you two okay?" he asked
Barns swallowed against the lump in his throat and nodded. "Yes…"
He forced the shake out of his arms to be able to lift them and accept the wriggling bundle of clothing and uncomfortable gurgling and half-words. The baby didn't like being away from his mother, but he settled once he looked up and saw two new faces peering down at him. The toddler stared back curiously and didn't seem to know what to make of them.
Gently bringing him closer in a more secure position, Barns smiled kindly at the infant and blinked back stinging eyes.
"Hello, Goddard," he said quietly, leaning closer to Danny, who smiled through her own set of tears.
Barns bowed his head and felt his heart break in the only good way possible.
"We are going to be very good friends," he whispered, promising it.
The baby didn't smile. He more smirked, in a way that was just as familiar to him as seeing the sun rise or feeling the touch of family.
It is so good to see you again.
0000
"Vortex."
The helicopter froze when he heard his name called. He was about to drink a cube of energon in the back of the still-ruined hangar when he felt two familiar mechs appear behind him. He had been so lost in thought—thinking of many different things, such as being around his companions after the risky few last weeks—he hadn't even noticed them.
When he turned and saw who it was, he didn't feel relief as much as, well, minor intimidation.
"…Jazz." Vortex forced his propellers to keep still as his gaze went from the smiling saboteur all the way up to the impassive blue jet beside him. "Thundercracker."
Shit.
Considering the last few times either or both of those two mechs had cornered him in the last decade, Vortex was wary. He was more than wary when he realized that there was no else in a fifty-foot radius.
Double shit.
"Been lookin' fer ya," Jazz said, all too pleasantly, which made the red flags going up in Vortex's processors flash scarlet.
It was true that they had all been busy for the last several days, since there were a lot of jobs yet to handle besides Decepticon hunting. Vortex had decided to help around the base, like the others in their group of ten, simply to stay in the area. It was also true that Vortex had had few opportunities alone with either Jazz or Thundercracker. They had managed to have a short reconciliatory period after he returned to the base from his undercover mission, so Vortex had assumed that was the end of the guilt trip the two had given themselves.
There was no guilt in either mech's face, however, so Vortex knew it would not be that simple.
"Had to help with construction," he replied. He tried not to show his nervousness. "What's up?"
Jazz, who was probably keen enough to notice the tension, continued to act cheerful. "We never got the chance t' thank ya properly," he explained without actually explaining anything.
"For?" Vortex asked, frowning behind his mask.
"Bein' there fer Rachel," Jazz said. He ignored Vortex's surprised twitch. "I know she can hold her own, but I also know ya probably helped t' keep her safe down in Brazil. We can't thank you enough, mech." Beside him, Thundercracker nodded in agreement.
Back in their world, giving thanks for saving another's life wasn't too common. When the newer members of their entourage had arrived, they'd say it a lot, but as time had gone on, the gratitude had been expressed silently. Words were unnecessary when it was a day-to-day occurrence. Vortex was surprised, and even warier now, that both mechs in front of him were taking the time to say this so sincerely.
"…Don't mention it," he said gruffly. He tried to edge to the side, making it clear he wanted to leave. He didn't handle gratitude well, and they knew it.
"Don' leave yet," Jazz said, hurriedly blocking Vortex's path. His ever-present smile was almost scary now. "There's somethin' else we need t' discuss."
Vortex urged the must-flee-now feeling out of his legs. "What?"
Jazz glanced up at Thundercracker before both looked at him with similarly intense optics. "I know we've given ya a hard time. Harder than we had ta. I remember Wheeljack cussin' me out fer bein' such a hard aft," Jazz began, not realizing that with every word, Vortex became more uneasy. "I ain't apologizin', cause there's a lot of shit that's happened t' that girl that I don't even wanna talk about. She'll tell ya in her own time, but believe me when I say, I had a right t' give ya a hard time fer chasin' after her."
This was exactly what Vortex had feared this discussion would be about. He stood his ground, regardless.
"We've made our own choices," he said stiffly. "She has, specifically."
Never in a hundred vorns had Vortex expected her to make that choice, but he was far from disappointed. He didn't trust Thundercracker's impassive faceplates, nor Jazz's calmness. They had always protested their… relationship, even before it was a relationship.
"An' she chose you," Jazz agreed. He grinned when Vortex tensed up again. "I could tell. She looks at ya differently than anyone else." He paused and inclined his helm. "In fact, she has fer awhile."
"She's a woman now," Vortex pointed out carefully, unsure where Jazz was going with this. He hated it when he could understand their motives.
"Yeah, she is," Jazz agreed. Thundercracker also nodded. "An' what she does with her life is her business."
"But we have the right to worry," Thundercracker added, optics slightly narrowed.
"Don't." Vortex tried to keep his irritation out of his voice. He shook his helm. "I'm not a threat."
"You aren't," Thundercracker said suddenly. "Which is why we're saying go ahead."
Vortex froze. "…What?" he asked.
Jazz grinned. "You heard him," he said, cheeky. "Consider this our parental go-ahead."
"…You're accepting our relationship?" he asked, scrambling for words. All those years of posturing, of the fighting, of the humiliating resistance—
"We're sayin', you slaggin' earned it, Vortex," Jazz said, smile turning almost wry. He leaned into Thundercracker's side. "Thank you."
Vortex gaped at the two of them. He had always told himself that their opinions didn't matter, but hearing it out loud… the validation was not supposed to matter.
"Take care of her and she'll take care of you," Thundercracker continued. He crossed his arms against his canopy. "And if it doesn't work, that doesn't mean we will ever blame you or become angry with you. You are still part of this overall family unit."
"Unless it's really yer fault, but hey, between you an' me, I'm gonna be honest an' say that I know Rachel'll push ya t' yer limits," Jazz said, laughing. He grinned up at the taller Vortex, who was still struggling to understand what had happened. "But you already knew that. You grew up with her all th' same, so I know ya know her. Just like we know you."
Vortex didn't think saying thanks now was appropriate. He wasn't sure what to say over all. "I appreciate it," he said stiffly.
"Sure thing," Jazz said with a laugh. The light in his visor glinted. "An' 'Tex?"
Vortex stared back. "Yes?"
Jazz's grin was both honest and remarkably comforting. "Good luck," he said. It was obvious both he and Thundercracker meant it.
For some odd reason, Vortex was immensely grateful.
"…Thank you," he said against better judgment.
Luck had brought them together, and luck would keep them. Vortex was indeed grateful for every bit he received.
0000
Prowl was surprised when he felt two familiar EM fields approach him. Turning, he didn't have to look to know that Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were standing right there.
"Yes?" he asked, not sure why they were approaching him now. He had just been on his way to speak with Prime, but he could afford to take his time. They all could now, he mused.
Sunstreaker simply stared at him, which was usual for the grouchy mech. His entire frame was tense, but Prowl could not think of a reason for why the yellow warrior would be angry with him. It meant Sunstreaker was nervous, but that didn't make sense to Prowl.
Sideswipe had always been the easier twin to read. He was also looking at Prowl intensely, however, which made Prowl uneasy.
"Is it true?" the red frontliner asked, voice tight.
"Is what true?" Prowl asked, confused.
"The war," Sideswipe replied. "Is it really over? Jolt keeps saying it is, but we need to hear it from you."
Prowl had no idea what to make of this. He regarded them both carefully, and they both watched him with odd looks, almost like they were afraid of his answer.
"There are still many hurdles to overcome in the coming vorns, including the apprehension of the remaining Decepticons, as well as Shockwave's renegades," he warned, shifting slightly on his pedes. "But as far as my plans go, off the record, I can assure you the worst is indeed over."
With Galvatron, the Fallen, and the majority of the Decepticon generals and Seeker elite either incapacitated or dead, the war was effectively on its last legs. Prowl could see them obtaining true peace in a matter of Earth centuries, not even megavorns. Rebuilding their lost society and trying to recover the loss of the majority of their population would take much longer, but Prowl was still happy that they could finally see a finish line for their tired army—
Without prompt, Sideswipe closed the distance between them and brought Prowl into a tight hug.
Prowl stared past the frontliner's back, speechless.
"Thank you for getting us through this," Sideswipe said in a quiet voice that didn't match the warrior's grip. Prowl could feel a tremor rattling through his armor, however, and the tension coiled in his frame. Behind him, Sunstreaker nodded silently.
Bewilderment clouded his processors. Prowl tried to make sense of this sudden display of emotion, but he didn't understand. "…I…" he tried to say, faltering. He pulled back and stared up at the taller mech in confusion and struggled to contain a variety of emotions. "I did not do this alone."
Sideswipe shook his helm. "You got me and Sunny through. You promised you would, back at Tyger Pax," he said, sounding more serious than Prowl ever remembered the younger mech sounding. He gripped Prowl's shoulder. "And you did, Prowl."
Sunstreaker moved up next to his brother. "Thank you," he said. For the yellow mech, this display was just as dramatic as Sideswipe's hug. It floored Prowl.
"…Don't…" Prowl began to say, wanting to refuse the gratitude simply because he wasn't the only one who deserved it. But then he remembered whom he was dealing with, and what the twins expected from him. Collecting himself, Prowl stood straighter and smiled faintly. "You are welcome, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe."
Both twins nodded. Sunstreaker relaxed and glanced at his brother hesitantly. A silent exchange was had.
"What do we do next, though?" Sideswipe asked, looking back to Prowl.
What did they do next, indeed? Prowl considered the two mechs carefully. They were built and raised to be fighters. The future in front of them would force them to adapt to a world of, hopefully, peace. He knew they were adaptable, however. That was what defined their species, after all.
"…We remake what we have lost," Prowl replied. He hesitated and met their gazes. The fondness in his spark, which he had curbed with professionalism throughout his time as SIC, grew when he stared down his two soldiers. "Thank you for serving with me, both of you."
Sideswipe smirked and Sunstreaker's lips twitched. The moment was shared between three sparks who knew far too much of each other, rightfully so.
"Our pleasure, commander," Sideswipe replied, not quite as cheeky as usual, as if he meant it.
Prowl smiled back.
The future was theirs, and he would make sure it was bright enough for all of them.
0000
Hours upon hours had been spent in conversations with delegates, politicians and military leaders. There were two news conferences he had had to attend, specifically because he had not been alive when they had first introduced the Autobots to the human population. Optimus had never been fond of public demonstrations, but he understood the need for it. Especially now.
The world knew his name, his presence and position. They also knew, at long last, the status of the alien war that Prime and his people had brought to Earth. Questions were harsh and rampant. Some of the humans wanted the Autobots gone for good. Most just wanted them to move far enough away that their war wouldn't crush humanity should it suddenly erupt again. Optimus respected that wish the most.
It was possible they could actually grant their request within the decade, if the politics went well. They could not make a settlement anywhere without human help; their resources were a necessity. The benefit of acting now was that the humans did not have easy access to the energy sources the Cybertronians could refine. A rough draft of a treaty, crafted by Prowl and Ultra Magnus, and subject to severe dissection by the American Congress and then the United Nations councils, promised a negotiation that the Autobots would receive the bulk of any early refinements of energon from Earth in order to jumpstart their new home, and afterwards the humans could benefit from the Cybertronians' energy technology. It was a compromise that Keller seemed positive would be approved. All that was in the way was the bureaucratic nightmare that was American politics, but Optimus always hoped for the best.
The Autobot settlement location was still up in the air. While the humans would rather have seen all the mechs leave their solar system entirely, the transportation of building materials and energon was a problem since the humans also wanted the Hyperion and Galaxus far away from Earth's orbit as well. For the humans to have quickest access to the energon themselves, they'd have to move quickly with the construction. And the closest place available was Mars.
There were protests all around the world (both literally and politically) about such a placement. It was too close for most, and too far for the few supporters of the Autobots to remain close by in case Shockwave appeared. Optimus liked the idea of remaining remotely close to Earth as well; there were far too many Decepticons still unaccounted for.
The ones that had survived or surrendered during the battle for Earth were incarcerated within Nemesis, which had been grounded on the Moon temporarily. They'd have to find a suitable prison quickly in order to appease the nervous humans. Nemesis was in shambles, so there was no immediate threat of the Decepticons somehow using it against anyone, but Optimus understood the fear.
For now, it was talking and planning. Optimus found himself enjoying the process more than usual. The fighting had calmed and the only physical threat that remained was the mission ahead to apprehend any Decepticons in hiding on Earth.
They weren't in an active military zone anymore. It was an exhilarating feeling. Stepping outside and gazing up at the blue sky above, Optimus felt freer than he ever had before, even though the rational side of him warned that it was far too soon to expect the end of the war.
Then again, their enemies were scattered. The Decepticon leaders were almost all deceased or incarcerated. The Autobots had a secure planetary base of operations and a billion-member species backing them up readily in case something else occurred.
If this was not the end, Optimus reasoned, it was by the far the beginning of the downfall of everything they had known as life for eons.
It was a good, good time to enjoy the peace.
Optimus had left thoughts of politics and future struggles entirely behind that evening as he left the Plumas base on foot. He had had to ask around to find the target he was seeking down, but eventually, he did find the object of his interest sitting alone in the forest.
More like a stone statue than a living mech, Skyfire sat alone on the outcropping of a dirt hill that overlooked trees and parts of the sky, which was tinged with an approaching sunset. Optimus had walked up quietly and reluctantly interrupted the peace and quiet Skyfire had obviously sought here.
"Skyfire," he said, causing the shuttle to look up sharply.
The stone moved; Skyfire immediately started to rise from his seated position. "Prime," he said in greeting, not so much in humility as following some sort of personal rule.
Optimus raised his hands in vain. "Don't get up. I don't need pleasantries. I never did," he said. The quiet joke died from his spark when he was face to face with the gaunt mech. Optimus stood up straighter. "Forgive me for not saying this sooner. I am sorry for your loss."
A flash of something crossed Skyfire's optics. Grief. Remembrance. Whatever it was, it was gone in a second. Skyfire also straightened and met Optimus' gaze calmly.
"What loss?" the shuttle questioned. He smiled softly. "We did what needed to be done. Soundwave would not consider this a loss. We have won."
For a scientist, Skyfire thought like a soldier. That was what the war had done to all of them, Optimus realized. "The battle, yes. The war… perhaps," he agreed.
There were so many unknowns about the state of the war. Optimus was filled with both fear and hope, and he knew others had the same conflicting sense of what was to come as well. They had a good chance. In fact, they had never had a better standing in all the millennia they had been fighting.
"I am surprised," Skyfire said suddenly. "You have not imprisoned Starscream."
Optimus kept his expression neutral. They had not imprisoned the ex-Decepticon aerial commander, though he was still technically to be monitored at all times. No one was happy with how to handle Starscream now, since he was claiming to have no interest in regaining control of the Decepticons, but made it clear he was not going to follow any Autobot rule. Neutrality was the only option he had left, but his thirst for power made that difficult to believe possible. Not even Prowl and Ironhide were sure how to handle him now.
"We made a deal, even if I was not there to make it," Optimus said at length. He inclined his helm. "I will honor the amnesty agreement, granted he does not move against us."
He understood that Skyfire and Starscream had once been companions, so that explained why Skyfire was interested in Starscream's fate now. There was just a faint glow of relief in Skyfire's optics that seemed to support that.
"He will not," the shuttle replied, sounding sure. "We are not the same mechs we both knew. But… in this world, I will take what I can."
Staring at the reserved mech, Optimus wondered what Skyfire intended to do next. He had had one purpose in entering this new world, and that purpose had been achieved. Many of the Autobot command did not like the shuttle for his indifference toward Decepticon-Autobot factions mutually, but Optimus was still unsure what he thought of the mech himself. They had all made sacrifices to reach this point.
Some more than others, the Prime reasoned sadly.
"We will be returning to Vos to rediscover our research," Skyfire said suddenly.
Optimus stared at him carefully. "It is inhabitable," he said carefully. "Most of Cybertron was when we left."
Skyfire seemed to shrug faintly. "We will survive. I have endured worse. I also intend to destroy the space-bridge that is still open there. With Shockwave out there still, the bridge is a risk to Earth." The shuttle shuttered his optics. "It's our choice, should you allow it."
Optimus understood what this meant. He didn't understand why, however.
"Self-made exile… does not fit you, Skyfire," he said, frowning as Skyfire opened his optics again. "You have done so much for us."
That earned him a faint smile. "I have done only what was needed. I was never more than an instrument that moved the true players of this war," Skyfire replied. He folded his hands calmly. "I choose to go, Prime. I… need to. I need to make my own peace, with myself."
"…I understand." Optimus nodded. "Should you, or Starscream, return, I can only hope the colony is there waiting for you." Any mech that arrived there, and who desired neutrality, would always be welcomed.
"Thank you, Optimus," Skyfire said, sounding more earnest than before. He hesitated. "Should you run into my other self, can I ask you give him a message?"
"Of course," Optimus said.
Skyfire's smile was bitter. "Forgive yourself," he said. He inclined his helm. "Please."
Spark filled with both sympathy and unease, Optimus frowned deeply. "Skyfire…"
"I have much to make peace with, but I've started now, Prime," Skyfire said, shaking his helm at the disapproval. "I will not let the sacrifices that brought us to this point mean nothing. We made them in order to better ourselves." He smiled again. It was almost honest. "I will try to do just that."
There would be no convincing him otherwise. Optimus knew the kind of mech Skyfire was. He knew the self-criticism and the doubt that could fill a weary spark. He was no mech to judge another for seeking redemption.
"Stay safe, my friend," Optimus instead offered, reaching out to clasp the shuttle's shoulder in just one brief moment of support.
Skyfire smiled back and touched the offered arm gently. "Good luck," he said, the gesture meant at them both.
It was what they deserved, and what they had always hoped for. It was time to begin again.
.
End Chapter 48.
.
Next, we have our final interlude, where TC and Jazz make an important decision. RUN, PROWL.
A/Ns:
-Most likely Sam will major in history or political science, considering they don't have alien studies yet. Yet. After that, well, you'll just have to see in Adaptions. ;)
-Yes, they will explain their story to Goddard's parents. Otherwise, lmfao that would be so awkward.
-Spoiler: baby Goddard is a brat. This is canon.
