Rated: M for adult themes: language, violence, mental rape, character death, mech erotica, torture, gore, and suicidal ideation. This varies from chapter to chapter, so read at your own risk.

Important Note: I started this series of fics before Revenge of the Fallen hit the theaters. This is an AU 2007 movie verse fic, NOT a ROTF/DOTM/AE/LK/BB fic.

Disclaimer: The only thing I own in this work of complete fiction is Velocity/Sira and Hardcore. They are mine. Everything else is copy righted and owned by some really rich people. I make no money from this, but wish I could.

XxxX

Full Velocity: Holding Onto the Future

Chapter 53: Trapped

XxxX

Velocity squeezed through the opening, her armor scraping between Optimus's leg and the blast door. Her mate strained as he pushed against the weight, trying to free them both. Before she cleared the barrier, Ironhide grabbed her and unceremoniously dragged her out of the way.

Scooting backward, the femme put more room between her and the larger 'bots. She couldn't see much in the perpetual darkness, but she could hear the grunts of the mechs and the grinding of the blast door, forced to move against dead gears. It had taken the combined effort of all three of them, working nearly blind because their headlights failed, to create a space large enough for her to slip through. Now they had to release Optimus, a daunting task made difficult due to his size.

The Prime roared, rage and frustration rolling through the black corridor and the massive door scraped inches in its track.

"What can I do?" Velocity asked, worry thickening her words.

"Nothing," Ironhide snapped, his anger not directed toward her. "Just clear the hallway. Either Prime will come barreling through, or the pistons will break. Don't be in the way."

Taking the old mech's advice, Velocity cautiously backed down the hallway, her hand trailing along the wall as a guide. Finding the opening to Prime's outer office, she slipped around the corner. Choosing a spot beside the doorway, Velocity leaned against the wall. There she waited, her pump pounding against the rising panic. She refused to give in to the whispers of fear telling her Optimus faced a slow death from entombment or crushed by the massive door.

A final bellow ricocheted down the darkness and filled her audios. An explosive metallic pop and the crunching rumble of demolition echoed. Reflexively, Velocity dropped into a low crouch, her talons springing into place before conscious thought caught up. The wall she had leaned against shook from a heavy impact, followed by the clanking crash of Cybertronian metals, and debris sprinkling her armor.

Then, silence drifted in, blanketing their quarters with a heavy stillness. Rattles and hisses from rapidly cycling vents, the only sound daring to disrupt the omnipotent quiet.

Velocity cycled her vents. Still crouched, she leaned forward on her hands, pressing a shoulder against the wall. "Optimus?" she called softly. "Ironhide? Are you OK?"

"I am fine," the Prime breathed, his vents still heaving. "I will join you shortly."

"Just give us a breem. That fucking door was slagging heavy," Ironhide grumbled. "I should know. I designed the Primus dammed thing."

Relief sank through her, pulling a small smile as she blinked her optic shutters. Shifting her weight, she plopped onto her aft and waited for the mechs to recover. A couple of scoots along the floor, and she peered around the corner. Down the hallway and low to the ground, two sets of blue optics glowed back at her. Comically, her mate's deep blue optics appeared lowest to the floor and upside down. He lay on his back, craning his neck to look at her.

She wanted to join them, to nestle within the powerful electrical field Optimus emitted. She didn't go to him. She stayed where she sat and waited. The darkness closed around her, a visceral living thing wanting to feed. For the first time in her life, she feared the darkness, death stalked around them, and its touch tingled on her armor. An all-consuming veil of shadows she could not see through. Pulling her knees up, she tucked her face behind them.

"Status report," Optimus huffed in the darkness. Metal scraped as he moved.

Ironhide grunted. "We've been hit with a massive power outage. Everything is down; comms don't work, internal sensors are useless, and weapons won't activate. I don't know if this is Wheeljack fucking up something in his lab or the first stages of a Decepticon invasion."

"Hopefully, just Wheeljack – again," Optimus sighed.

"The only good thing is that any invading 'Cons are in the same slag heap as us, and they don't know the layout of the base," the old warrior pointed out.

"Velocity. Are you OK?"

The femme raised her head, hearing her name. "I'm fine. Just waiting in the dark. Listening to you two prattle." The mention of a Decepticon invasion spiked her fear. Her instincts wanted her to hide.

"Can you access any weapons?" the Prime asked.

She uncurled and attempted to engage her blade. Nothing. It remained sheathed in her forearm. "Nope," she responded. "I have my claws, though." She tapped a talon against the wall, and the soft tink-tink bounced around the room.

"Keep um out. If this turns into a fight, it will be all fists and who can beat who to death first."

Ironhide's words chilled her energon. Velocity looked around the darkness, trying to focus on anything other than the mental image of Cybertronians ripping each other apart with their bare hands. She cycled her vents, then noticed a faint outline of the doorway leading to the corridor beyond. It must be a trick of her optics, a desperate attempt to see anything in the absolute darkness.

Looking away, she stared at the black nothing, then Velocity turned her head back to the doorway, and more definition jumped out at her. There was a light down the hall.

"Guys, I see something. There is a light," she called over her shoulder. "I'm going to check it out." Velocity slowly stood but banged her helm on something that should not be there. Using her hands, she felt along the object, a thick piece of metal protruded from the wall. She remembered Ironhide's words about the pistons, then realized it probably destroyed her workshop on the other side. The ping of sadness dissipated when she realized it would have hit her had she not dropped to a crouch.

Behind her, the clatter and the whir of gears announced Optimus and Ironhide scrambling to their peds.

"Stay where you are," her bonded ordered.

Velocity stayed and turned to face the ever-brightening light. She raised her chin and watched the bouncing glow increase. The echoes of pedfalls thumped from both behind her and down the hall as someone walked toward their quarters.

Curling and uncurling her hands, Velocity watched the glow brighten. She shifted her weight to the approaching steps. Her pump sped up, supplying vital energon to her frame. A slight bend at the knees as her optics and audios monitored the approaching intruder. Autobot or Decepticon, she did not know and prepared to defend herself.

Brighter.

With scythe-tipped hands near her chest, talons ready to strike, a snarl warped her facial plates. Now, shadows danced around Velocity, cast by the intruding radiance. The femme's predatory instincts purred with anticipation. A hand clamped on her shoulder, and she jerked. Her growl ended in a startled squeak.

A familiar and trusted aura enveloped her as Optimus pressed against her back.

Ironhide pushed past them, headed towards the hallway and the light beyond. The black mech, another shadow blocking the light. "It took you long enough."

"You try to do cold chemistry in the dark, hoping you picked up the correct beaker," Wheeljack's familiar voice bounced from outside the room. The scientist stepped into view. Both hands carried rods with glowing globes strapped to the ends. The light within the orbs appeared alive with a writhing, swirling luminescence, all colors and none. The weird light bounced off his pale armor in a spectral sheen. "Hello, V," the ghost-mech beamed a smile at the femme.

Immediately, Velocity relaxed. The tension slipped away as she stood taller and dropped her defenses. Glancing over her shoulder, she shared a look with Optimus; his optics remained narrowed with concern. Her relief vanished, a false hope crushed by her mate's worry.

"Do we have any reason for this outage?" Optimus asked the scientist.

Entering the room, Wheeljack passed a rod to each of them. "It wasn't me, if that's what you're thinking. Some of the others went to sort things out. I focused on making these. Everybody has one, the humans have smaller versions, and I spaced a few more around the base. The only advice I have is don't break one open. The chemicals are stable until they oxidize, then they become flammable."

Velocity stared at the swirling fluids within her orb, puss greens, cadaver grays, jaundiced yellows, and entrail pinks all sloshed for dominance. She wrinkled her nose at the revolting glow. "How long do these last?" she asked.

"Oh, three or four vorn. Not very long," Wheeljack indulged.

Optimus trailed his hand along her shoulders as he moved past her. An intimate touch, but not one of seduction, a lingering contact before parting. "We need to find out what has happened," he instructed.

No one argued; they quickly and silently fell in line behind him with Velocity wedged between Ironhide and Wheeljack.

The first rumble echoed through the walls and floor. More a sensation than a sound, the vibrations caused them to slow and glance around. Velocity slid past Ironhide, seeking closeness to Optimus.

Another rumble, louder and more intense. The Prime's optics glowed fearful as his hand awkwardly grab hers.

A series of deep rumples, louder than before, one following the others in quick succession. The floor trembled, and dust rained on them, sprinkling their armor.

Fingers tightened as Optimus yanked her towards him. Thudding heavily, Velocity impacted the larger mech as a screeching keen filled the dark air around them. A banshee wail increased in volume until the piercing noise squelched painfully in her audios. From everywhere, the noise assaulted them; the rocks themselves screamed out.

Thick arms engulfed her, forcing her to bury her face in half-healed wounds. Optimus's massive pump pounded rapidly but could not drown out the grating, metallic scream.

Finally, the sound ended. Prime scooped her up and spun. Disoriented, Velocity struggled to pull away, but Optimus tightened his grip around her. The first seismic wave hit. With a thunderous boom, the floor convulsed and lurched erratically, knocking Optimus off his peds. The Prime collapsed to his knees, his arms a crushing vice around Velocity. As the world shook, the façade covering the walls cracked with sharp snaps, and stone and dirt poured from above.

As abruptly as it started, the earthquake ended. Her audios rang with feedback, and Optimus wrapped her in his embrace. Turning her head, Velocity could make out Ironhide. Also, on his knees, the eerie and cold light from Wheeljack's orbs barely separated the black mech from the shadows.

"Status," barked Optimus, his voice rumbling through the darkness.

"I'm good," quipped Wheeljack from somewhere down the hall.

"Same," growled Ironhide.

Gently, Optimus released her and held her at arm's length. His optics roved over her, searching as a hand cupped her jawline, a thumb caressing her cheek.

"I'm – I'm OK," she stuttered, then coughed dirt out of her vents. "What was that?"

Deeming her uninjured, Optimus pulled Velocity to her peds.

"That was probably the plasma cannon falling over," Ironhide huffed as he climbed to his peds.

The Prime stood and waited. He searched the dark corridor, tense and watchful, his hands curled into fists. "Hurry, we have to find the others."

They ran

XxxX

Slipping through the shadows, he crouched under a window. Slowly he lifted his head and peered into the structure. A couple of human males rushed about, desperately trying to secure the building, except without electricity, the blast shutters would not drop, and the doors would not lock.

Backing up, the metallic beast made space for a running start. Bounding forward on four legs, Ravage exploded through the window. He landed on a desk and lept again, his claws sinking into the human's chest. Before they hit the ground, the Decepticon opened his mouth, exposing rows of jagged dental plates. Engulfing the man's head, he snapped his jaw closed, ending the ridiculous screams.

XxxX

Sam refused to leave Mikaela's side as they wheeled her through the black hallways. The smoke from the makeshift torch stung his eyes and nose. He coughed periodically. "Where are we going?" he asked the soldiers and alarmingly silent doctor.

They would not tell him definitively. "Somewhere else" became the repetitive answer.

"Sam, let it go. They know what they are doing," Mikaela's strained voice tried to calm him.

Sam wanted to tell her he did not think they knew what they were doing. He wanted to point out that the two of them had lived through scary crap, and this felt like scary crap.

"The elevators are out; we are going to have to use the stairs," the torch bearer announced.

XxxX

The others waited in an intersection. Even with the offal-colored lights, shadows hung around them, mean and hungry, while optics blazed like stars in the night sky. Danger and the promise of violence crackled in the air as energy fields merged and mingled. Velocity fought the urge to slip away; instead, she moved closer to Optimus, letting his electrical field engulf her and buffer the volatile swirl around them. In a rare show of public affection, he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer, their armor bumping. Releasing her, his fingertips remained on her back, almost as if he needed to touch her for reassurance.

A movement in the shadows drew Velocity's attention. She watched Mirage leave the assembled group and slip down the hallway. His optics watched her like a whipped dog watches its cruel master. She wished she could gloat about the mech's newfound attitude.

"Status," the Prime of Cybertron demanded.

Ironhide spoke first. "The tremors are probably the plasma cannon falling over. If it were me, I would immediately render it inoperable. You can bet the 'Cons are destroying everything they can topside."

"That's frigging great. The 'Cons got their weapons systems, and we don't even have working lights. It ain't a fair fight," groused Warpath, his optics glowing above everyone else.

"They are most likely using alternative means to destroy equipment," noted Prowl as he leaned against the wall, his head tucked and his optic shutters half open in concentration. "I would be surprised if they had anything besides blades and bludgeoning weapons."

Optimus nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. "We have been hit with a powerful EMP or Disruptor. We can assume the military is also affected and unable to offer assistance or communications. When we meet the enemy, and we will meet them soon, we will have to rip them apart to stop them. This could be a brutal and protracted battle."

Velocity cycled her vents nervously, and cold fear slid through her lines. Looking from mech to mech, she felt the pensive anxiety in their optics.

"Are we just going to wait for them to attack?" snapped Sunstreaker.

"No. We will defend our home." Optimus glanced at his mechs, and they nodded in agreement. "Cliffjumper, you are with Ratchet and Velocity. Cosmos, I want you, Hound, and Wheeljack to determine the size and magnitude of this EMP field and try to disarm it if possible. The rest are with me."

From his place against the wall, Prowl raised his helm. "What do you have in the armory?" he turned his attention to Ironhide.

The old mech huffed, "Not enough of what we need. Damn, near everything in there requires program alignment to work."

"Fine. We need to start converting whatever we can into weapons." Pulling away from the wall, the tactician disappeared into the conference room. He returned in seconds, dragging the flags that guarded the inside of the door. Ripping the symbolic fabric free of its poles, he dropped the flags of Cybertron and the United States on the floor in a jumbled heap. Holding the arrow-tipped weapons, he tossed a spear to Hound and another to Smokescreen. "Start making your defenses, everyone." The team began heading in random directions to find supplies.

"Warpath, Bumblebee with me." The two named Autobots turned to follow the weapon's Specialist.

It took the femme's processor several seconds to catch up to her mate's words. She jumped in front of Optimus. "What do you mean I'm with Ratchet and the others are with you? You are not going out there."

Optimus stared at her, brow arches furrowed in a deep frown. "I will protect our home." He moved her to the side and attempted to walk past her.

A quick look showed nearby Autobots stopped to watch the drama unfold. Velocity did not care. She was beyond worrying about making a spectacle of herself. Refusing to end the discussion, Velocity took several quick steps and blocked the Prime's path again. She held her pole with its glowing orb, like a wizard brandishing a magical staff. "You cannot go out there. You aren't healed; I can see how you move. You favor your right side…."

"We are not doing this," Optimus snapped, cutting off her sentence. Frustration rolled off him in thick sticky waves.

Standing in front of the towering Prime, she anchored her peds. "You are not going out there. The 'Cons will see you aren't healed, and you will be a target."

Frustration rolled off the Prime, but he looked away from her. "Velocity, don't do this."

"Do what, Optimus?" Velocity shoved the Prime, and she might as well have shoved a mountain for all the good it did. The volume of her voice increased. "Don't do what? Don't point out that you're barely off the repair table. Don't point out I almost lost you. OK, fine, I won't," the femme snapped. "I am going with you. Let's kick some Decepticon ass." She turned and started to lead them down the hall, ignoring the hum of emotions from her mate.

Optimus grabbed her by the arm and dragged her backward. A quick spin and she unwillingly faced him again, hating how he effortlessly manhandled her. Bending, the mech glared at her, his face only a few feet away. "You are not following me into battle," He roared at her. "I can't have you in harm's way; you have no idea what you mean to me."

Autobots standing around them shifted their weight and tried to look elsewhere.

Unfazed by the show of anger, Velocity leaned closer to her mate. Through clinched dental plates, she retorted, "Everyone carries on about my importance to you and how I have to remain safe, but no one considers what you mean to me.

From behind, arms wrapped around her. Thick and Day-Glo green, Velocity struggled against their hold, but all medics possessed the strength to restrain unruly patients.

"Let me go, Ratchet," she hissed.

"Don't make this harder for him," the Medic whispered in her audio.

Standing at his full height, Optimus stared at her; sadness rolled off him. Reaching forward, the Prime cupped her face in his palm, thumb gently rubbing her cheek. All the anger from a second ago wiped away as if it never existed. "I will protect our home, and I will come back to you." Releasing her, he walked down the hallway. The ghostly light of his orb faded as he turned a corner and disappeared.

"Stop struggling," ordered the Medic. "Optimus doesn't want to leave you, but he must lead the others into battle. If you want to help him, understand that he has no choice. The others won't follow him for long if he doesn't fight." The Medic released her.

Anger receded into the fear that created it, and Velocity slid to the floor; all the fight drained from her. "He isn't healed," she pleaded with the healer. "I'm afraid he will – I'm afraid he isn't….' She could not finish the sentence, saying it could make it come true.

"You are afraid he isn't healed enough to defend himself?" Ratchet asked as he knelt. "I would have liked for him to heal further; fortunately, he stayed offline for a considerable amount of time. That alone pushed his repairs further than if he had been up and moving around. His core mechanics are at an optimal level.

"If it were up to me, Optimus would never enter the battlefield again, but until this war ends, that is not an option."

Turning her optics to the Medic, Velocity pulled her emotions back and wiped at tears she no longer shed. "I am finally figuring all this out, and I might lose him."

Ratchet stood; the creak of old joints echoed from his knees. "We are at war. You always run the risk of one losing the other. Instead of worrying, you love, you make love, enjoy every moment, laugh, and help each other in any way possible."

As the old mech's words sank in, Velocity glanced down the corridor. Cliffjumper stood isolated in the pool of sickly light from his orb, the darkness behind him absolute and solid. He stared at his peds, obviously uncomfortable with the scene before him. She squared her shoulders. "What should I do? How can I help?"

"Good girl." Ratchet offered her a hand to pull her to her peds. "We must pack supplies and prepare for the injured when they return."

XxxX

Hands.

Hands pulled and tugged at him.

They hurt as they shifted him.

He didn't like being touched, never one for hugs and handshakes or pats on the back. Yet they kept touching him. Simmons fought the gray haze that surrounded him. He wanted to tell these assholes to stop touching him; they could go touch themselves.

He forced his eyelids open, expecting searing brilliance; instead, he found warm flickering light. As he regained more consciousness, he felt his bed bounce and tilt, like he lay on the world's shittiest roller-coaster. He didn't like roller coasters, his one trip to Cony Island with his mom had been enough. He didn't need fake scares when his dad had been a violent alcoholic, and giant aliens lived on Earth.

'Stop?" he managed to moan from between dry lips.

The motion stopped. A pretty young woman filled his view. "Welcome back. We have lost all power and are moving you to a different area. If you are still conscious, I will explain when we get there, so relax and enjoy the ride."

She disappeared before he could remember how to smile. Staring at the smoking and flickering torches, Agent Reginald Seymore Simmons did not enjoy the ride.

XxxX

Authors Notes:

Thanks to MareRPrime, Simmons gets to live. Originally he was going to die from his injuries. She convinced me to change his story, and I liked her ideas.