In the main medical bay, Ratchet and Wheeljack worked through the night and well into the morning on Alias. That AT missile had done quite a bit of damage to her wing and arm, necessitating literally hundreds of meticulous welds to correct, and Wheeljack was too focused on his own project with that air pump to distract Ratchet by talking. Honestly, the medic was glad of the silence. The precision required to properly complete her repairs kept him from thinking about what might happen once they were done and it was the last thing he wanted to talk about.
But when he finally finished, he couldn't push the fear out of his mind any longer. He put down his instruments and rubbed his hands over his face. "Are we wasting our time here? Do you really think this is her, Wheeljack?" he asked quietly.
The engineer didn't immediately answer, but after a moment, he put down his own tools and looked over at Ratchet. "I'd be lying if I said I was positive," he said at last. "But I'm hopeful."
Ratchet sighed, hands still over his face. "If this isn't Anna–"
Wheeljack interrupted him. "Don't. Don't even finish that sentence. I'm not thinking like that. I can't."
"I can't think of anything else," Ratchet admitted. He finally dropped his hands and looked at the second bed where Optimus now lay. If their desperate gamble hadn't saved Anna, Ratchet would be the one who had to tell him that his sparkmate was dead, and the responsibility weighed heavily on him. No matter how many times he'd given someone that bad news, it never got any easier, and Optimus was more than his Prime. He was Ratchet's oldest friend and the person he admired most in the Universe. The prospect of delivering that kind of pain to him filled the medic's every thought. "There's only one way we're going to find out. I can't take this suspense much longer–and we can't keep Optimus out much longer, either. Ironhide would've been in here to nag us for updates on our progress if he could, and the fact that we haven't seen him once in the last ten hours makes me think that the humans are still making noise. We need our Prime up and functional again."
"If this isn't Anna, I doubt he'll be functional again for a long, long time," Wheeljack said, and Ratchet scowled.
"Yes, thank you, like I'm not already thinking of that every second. Are you almost done with that thing?"
Wheeljack nodded. "Ten minutes, probably." He glanced at Ratchet worriedly. "You're not planning on waking her up as soon as I'm done, are you? Because she's stronger than both of us put together and I'm thinking some backup would be a good idea. You had a helluva time getting close enough to sedate her earlier and that was even with Prime helping."
"Oh, don't worry, we're definitely not doing that again. I'm going to make sure Skyfire is here and ready to subdue her before I even consider reviving her," Ratchet reassured him. Then he sighed. "Although I'd really prefer have her restrained before we wake her."
Wheeljack looked up, alarmed. "Ratchet, you can't–"
He waved a hand. "No, no, I know better. Much as I'd like to have her restrained, it's absolutely out of the question thanks to the Decepticons. Tying her down will only ensure that she panics and fights us, and that would pretty much defeat the purpose of waking her up to find out what she does," he said bitterly. "If it turns out that we've got a new Transformer here who's still in the grip of aggression psychosis, we'll just have to try to keep them from wrecking my entire clinic. At least we can deactivate the cog and take that sword out of the equation."
Wheeljack bent back over Alias again. "I've been thinking about her eyes," he said as he worked, his tone deliberately casual in a way that immediately caught Ratchet's attention. "That color… you know, back on Cybertron, I was sometimes sent to do maintenance at a nurturing center. I've seen a lot of brand new sparks, but only once did I see one that color."
Ratchet leaned a hip against the foot of Alias' bed and crossed his arms, knowing where he was going with this. "I had the same thought," he admitted. "But forged sparks are different than ones sparked by the Matrix."
"Not if you believe Optimus," Wheeljack said sharply.
"That's not what I meant," Ratchet said impatiently. "You know I don't think cold constructed bots are inferior–have I ever treated any of them that way? But you and I both know that the kind of sparks you're talking about are only naturally occurring. The Matrix doesn't create them. If it did, Nova Prime would've truly bled it dry trying to make an army of them."
"Say what you like, but that green spark I saw? That was Fortress Maximus," Wheeljack persisted. "And her eyes were that exact same golden green."
"I know what the green sparks mean, Wheeljack, but it's her eyes that changed color, not her spark," Ratchet said. He pointed at her open chest cavity where the glow of her spark was brightly visible. "See? Blue. Not green."
"And so is Prime's spark, now," Wheeljack said stubbornly. "They don't stay green, but they do start that way. We didn't see what color her spark was until we got her back here and opened her up, and that took hours because we were taking care of Anna's body. It could've–"
"Fine, if you really insist on this completely unfounded speculation, then let's follow it to its logical conclusion. What if you're right? What if her spark turned green and we all just didn't see it?" Ratchet interrupted. "Alias wasn't a Point One Percenter, Wheeljack! If the Matrix truly did spark one, it means that this isn't her. Is that really what you want to hope for?"
Wheeljack stared at him for a moment, then picked up his tools again. "You're missing my point, Ratchet. I know you prefer science to faith, but I don't think it's completely unreasonable to think that if Primus did save her for Optimus, he might have sparked her as his equal." He held the medic's gaze for one more second before starting to work again. "Just because the Matrix hasn't done it before doesn't mean it can't do it at all. Primus has always favored Optimus–you might not be very religious, but even you can't deny that."
Ratchet sighed. "I don't have the brain-space for theological speculation right now. All I can think about is how to tell Optimus that we tried everything and still didn't save his conjunx endura. If you want to hope that Anna got saved with a super-spark, feel free, but don't ask me to join in. I'll be beyond happy if she's in there at all."
Only a few minutes later, Wheeljack finished installing the new breathing system and once again disabling her t-cog. "I'm done," he said as he closed her chest armor, then stood over her with his head bowed for a moment before turning back to Ratchet. "Are you ready to wake her up?"
"No," Ratchet said. "Honestly, I'd rather go one-on-one with Megatron blindfolded and weaponless. But since I'm never going to be ready, let's do this. Teletraan, please notify Ironhide that we're ready to begin, and call Skyfire in, too."
"Affirmative, Ratchet."
Ratchet walked to his med case and pulled out a few syringes, but when he began to fill one with the stimulant that would awaken Alias (oh, how he hoped it was Alias) and a second one with a sedative (in case it wasn't), he had to stop and wait for his hands to stop shaking. That was deeply unusual for him–medics of his caliber didn't get the shakes during stressful moments. How much help could he be to his patients if he was shaking all over the place while they were bleeding out?
It was the waiting. Waiting sucked. He finally managed to finish filling the syringes for Alias, and then a second set for Optimus. "Wheeljack?" he said over his shoulder as he set them out beside their respective patients.
"Yeah?"
Ratchet closed his eyes and gripped the counter very hard. "I am praying, you know."
Wheeljack came over and squeezed his shoulder. "I know. We all are. We've done everything we possibly can. It's out of our hands now."
The door slid open then and both of them turned to see Ironhide enter, Skyfire at his heels, but it didn't stop there. Drift, Perceptor, Crosshairs, Bumblebee, and Hound–carrying all the humans–followed them inside. Ratchet looked at all of them with misgivings before turning to Ironhide. "You sure you want this much of an audience for this?" he asked.
Ironhide just shrugged. "You should be glad I narrowed it down to just them. Everyone wants to be here. The ones I didn't allow in are outside in the hall."
Ratchet looked from worried face to worried face, and every one of them gazed back with the stubbornness of someone prepared to fight any attempt to evict them. He supposed he could understand. Perceptor had been instrumental in the building and design of Alias along with himself and Wheeljack, and Bee, Crosshairs, Drift, and Hound had been friends with Anna for years. And honestly, the fighters might come in handy if they ended up having to restrain her or, Primus forbid, Optimus.
The humans were another matter, but seeing them might be comforting to her, and at least they didn't take up much room. Anyway, Cade had helped to save her life, as had the NEST team. Finally Ratchet sighed and nodded. "Fine. Just keep quiet, and make sure the humans are well out of the way–up there, maybe," he said, pointing to a shelf on the other side of the room. "If this goes bad and we've got a fight on our hands, we can't be worried about them being underfoot."
The humans got out of Hound and he transformed as the others lifted them up onto the shelf Ratchet had indicated. When they were safe, he picked up the syringe of stimulant and walked over to Alias. "Skyfire, Ironhide, Hound, all of you come here and be ready to subdue her, but don't do it unless I tell you to. Let her do whatever she's going to do. We need to see that," he said, absently noticing that his hands were steady now that it was time for action. The three of them moved into position without a word and Ratchet looked at Ironhide. "We're ready. Give the order."
Ironhide nodded sharply. "For Primus' sake, do it. Put us out of our misery."
"I'm going to try to reactivate her slowly. No one say anything. She's going to be groggy and it might make her open to suggestion," Ratchet told the group as he put the syringe to her neck, and first he'd been shaking and now he was babbling, neither of which were normal for him, but he was scared as hell about what was about to happen and nothing about any of this was normal. He injected half the dose of stimulant and waited for it to take effect. "I don't want any doubts that we put something in her mind that isn't there."
Alias' fingers twitched and he broke off, his own fingers tightening on the syringe of sedative he held in his other hand. The air pump Wheeljack had installed started up, quiet as a breeze, but silent as the room was, they all heard the faint susurrus of moving air. Her head moved slowly from side to side and she blinked. Ratchet had to lock his jaw to stop himself from groaning when he saw that her eyes were still that vibrant green, but like everyone else, he didn't make a sound.
Finally she lifted her hand to her face and fully opened her eyes. Her fingers started to tremble as she flexed them, then closed her eyes and hesitantly touched her face. Her breathing quickened, the trembling spreading through her entire body. She gasped and abruptly sat straight up, nearly jumping right off the table.
"Whoa, whoa," Ironhide said, stepping forward and starting to reach for her, but Ratchet grabbed his arm and stopped him. They needed to see this.
Alias completely ignored both of them. She was staring down at herself, now still as a statue. Finally she seemed to notice the rest of them for the first time. She looked from face to face before stopping on Ratchet. It was all he could do not to say anything, to wait and let her speak first. "Ratchet," she finally whispered, and groggy and scared and uncertain as it was, Vector Sigma, that was Anna's voice! "Ratchet, where's Optimus?"
Ratchet was vaguely aware of a cheer going up behind him and echoing out in the hall, but he could hardly move, much less speak–until this moment, he'd been able to convince Wheeljack and the rest of them that he had hope, but now he knew that he'd been utterly convinced that Anna hadn't made it. The truth of her survival momentarily paralyzed him and all he could do was stare.
And then he grabbed her and hugged her hard. "You're alive," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking with relief. It had actually worked–he wasn't going to have to deliver that death notice to Optimus after all! "You're alive!"
Someone slapped his back in congratulations and he heard laughter amid the cheers, but he didn't realize why until Anna–no, Alias, she was truly Alias now–patted him on the shoulder. "I'm not sure," she said, her voice still a little slurred with the remains of the sedative, but her amusement was clear. "I may be dead. You're hugging me, Ratchet. On purpose!"
Ratchet all but jumped back, stumbling when he collided with Drift behind him and stuttering out some kind of apology. To be honest, he had no clue what he was saying. He couldn't even recover enough to give her the rest of the stimulant–Skyfire took the syringe from his clumsy hand and gave it himself while Wheeljack used the controls on the stretcher to help her sit up. All of them were crowding around her bed now, wanting to see for themselves that she was all right, and Bumblebee even started playing Happy Birthday.
Alias looked around the gathered Autobots, but her smile quickly vanished. "Where's Optimus?" she asked again, much more urgently this time. Fear entered her voice as she repeated, "Ratchet, what happened to Optimus? Why isn't he here?"
"Whoa, easy," Ironhide said, putting a hand on her shoulder when she tried to get up. "He's here and he's just fine, but Ratchet knocked him out right after he knocked you out. Things got pretty intense there and we thought it best if he took a little nap until we knew what was going to happen with you."
She was looking more alert with each passing second, but Ratchet was starting to recognize her expression as the one she'd worn when she first came to him and Wheeljack for medical care after that missile–a little wild-eyed and increasingly tense. She wasn't panicking yet, but the possibility was definitely there.
Wheeljack clearly saw the signs, too. "How about you go and wake Optimus up now, Ratchet?" he said lightly, but the look he gave the medic was very pointed.
But Ratchet had a better idea. Reaching out and taking her hand, he smiled. He would have really liked to do a full diagnostic on her, but now was obviously not the time. "How about we let her wake him up instead?" he offered. "I really don't think he wants to see me."
"Yes," she said immediately, a little of the anxiety leaving her eyes–those vibrant green eyes–but not all of it. "Yes, Ratchet, please let me see him."
Ratchet nodded. "We'll do that right now," he said, but he held up his other hand when she started to get up. "This is minor and everything is fine–seriously, it's just a detail–but I just want to tell you one thing first. Something about the procedure made your eyes turn green."
Alias looked blankly at him. "Why?" she finally asked. Then, as an afterthought, "Let me see."
Perceptor was already holding out his handheld–they were too closely packed around her for the security monitors to get a good live image, but he'd gotten a freeze-frame from when she'd first awoken and her new eye color was clearly visible. Alias stared at it for a moment before handing it back and sending a confused glance around at all of them. "Okay, that's weird, but the only color I'd really be upset to see would be Decepticon red, so why do we care?"
Knowing that she would prefer a straight answer rather than any attempts to hedge, Ratchet said, "He might think that it means that the Matrix sparked a new Transformer instead of saving you. I'll be honest, Alias–I thought you were gone when I saw them."
"That color change scared the hell out of all of us," Crosshairs said.
Her anxiety resurged full-force. "But this is me," she protested, holding Ratchet's hand very tightly. "Is this bad? Am I going to change? Is–"
"Shh, no, it's fine," Ratchet reassured her in a tone of complete confidence. "Later we can talk about theories on why it happened, but apart from giving you a slightly new appearance, it changes nothing. You're fine, truly. We just wanted you know before Optimus sees them so you're prepared. That's all, I promise."
"Maybe don't let him see your eyes right away," Ironhide said. "Let him know it's you first."
"Think of something you can tell him that only the two of you know," Drift suggested.
Alias nodded, but she looked scared again. "I want to see Optimus now," she said in a small voice, and Ratchet immediately helped her up.
"Absolutely," he said, not wanting her to panic again. She was still holding it together, but just barely, and while he might not be Rung, Ratchet could tell when someone was getting close to their limit. "Come on. He's right here."
The crowd of Autobots parted as Ratchet led her over to Optimus–he assessed her gait and reflexes with a practiced eye along the way and saw nothing that concerned him. She hadn't let go of his hand but she didn't seem aware of it, but Ratchet put that down to the stress she was under rather than any kind of medical concern. He brought her right to Prime's bedside and she finally released him to reach for Optimus instead. She started to take his hand, but changed her mind and boosted herself up onto the bed beside him first instead. Then she took his hand in one of hers and cupped his cheek in the other. "Wake him up," she whispered to Ratchet, her gaze glued to his still face. "Please."
Ratchet injected the stimulant–no half-doses this time–and a shiver went through Optimus almost immediately. Alias draped herself across his chest, hiding her face against his shoulder, and stroked his face as he came back online. He briefly froze, then said, "Anna? Is that you?" in a voice that did not hide his fear. He didn't even open his eyes.
Alias actually laughed. "If you have to wonder who's waking you up like this, we need to have a serious talk," she said, her own tone unsteady with emotion, and Optimus shuddered and wrapped his arms around her tight.
"Anna," he gasped, holding her desperately.
"Yes, it's me," she whispered, giving up on the teasing and hugging him back just as hard. "I'm still here. It worked."
"Thank Primus," he said fervently.
Ratchet tried, he really did, but he couldn't stop himself from smiling. Millions of years of war meant that it was beyond rare that he got to witness something like this, and a glance around the room showed that he wasn't the only one grinning like a fool at this reunion. "Maybe we should all step out for a minute?" he suggested, and Optimus jumped a little as though only just now noticing that there were others in the room.
"Ratchet, before you go, report–is she all right?" he demanded, opening his eyes but not relaxing his hold on her one bit.
"The answer to that is an unequivocal yes, Prime. Your conjunx endura's spark is strong and stable, and she's completely functional in every way," Ratchet answered happily–this was the news he'd feared he wouldn't be able to give Optimus, and saying it felt better than he could've dreamed. "I'm very pleased to report that the Autobot Alias is fully repaired and one hundred percent operational."
"But the procedure did change something," Alias said, and Optimus tensed.
Then she sat up and hesitantly looked at him, and Optimus went completely still. He reached up with unsteady fingers and touched her face. "Your eyes," he whispered, fear in his voice again.
Alias covered his hand with hers, holding tight as if frightened that he was going to pull away from her. "It's really me. I can prove it–listen. The first time I said I loved you, I offered to leave if you wanted me to," she whispered, speaking fast and looking at him with worry writ large on her face. "And then you said you would do impossible things for me if I just asked. This is me, Optimus. Please believe me. I swear it's me."
It felt like the entire room held its breath waiting for his reply, but finally he closed his eyes. "Get out," he said, and she went tense, but he went on, "All of you, get out. I need some time alone with my sparkmate," and she fell against him with a little cry of relief.
Ironhide stepped forward as the others started to file out. "Before I go, I've been eagerly awaiting my chance to give this back to you," he said, holding out the Matrix. "Please, please, please take it away from me."
Optimus snorted as he accepted it from him. "Still afraid you're going to accidentally become a Prime, Ironhide?"
"Terrified," Ironhide answered unashamedly as the last of them left, leaving only him and Ratchet. "You keep that thing and I'll keep holding down the fort until you're ready to come out and get a sitrep."
Ratchet knew Optimus well enough to see the way he struggled not to ask, but millions of years of habit were nearly impossible to break, even in a moment like this. "How bad is it?" Optimus finally asked, still holding the Matrix in his hand rather than releasing Alias long enough to put it back inside his chest.
"Bad enough that you probably shouldn't take your seclusion yet, unfortunately," Ironhide answered honestly. "But not so bad that you can't take an hour for yourselves. You've both suffered for this. You deserve your reunion."
Alias sighed against Prime's chest. "Wow, a whole hour? We might get sick of each other after that much prolonged contact. Are you sure we should risk it?"
Ironhide spread his hands apologetically. "I know, you deserve more. It sucks and I'm sorry."
Optimus just shrugged. "It comes with the title, I'm afraid. Besides, an hour will considerably beat our former record of ten and a half minutes," he said, and Alias made a rude noise. Smiling a little now, he glanced at Ratchet and Ironhide. "I would usually do the self-sacrificing thing and make you two tell me everything now, but I'm not feeling very self-sacrificing at the moment and I really want that hour, so unless you plan to watch, please go find somewhere else to be. Now."
Ratchet shook his head emphatically. "Oh no no no, no one's watching anything, we're leaving," he said, ushering Ironhide toward the door. He paused just before leaving and glanced back, pure happiness filling his spark at the sight of his friend's joy, and then he left and locked the door behind them.
.
I don't know if any of you lovely readers are artists or if it's rude to request it instead of someone offering, but if anyone felt moved to draw a picture of Alias, that would be HELLA COOL. I can just about draw a wonky-as-hell smiley face, or the kind of square-with-a-triangle-on-top house any kindergartner would laugh at and say "Were you drunk or something?", so clearly I can't do it. ;)
That being said, I'm looking forward to your reviews! Hey, look everyone, IT'S NOT A CLIFFY! I don't even recognize myself right now, not gonna lie.
