Author's Note: Well, here's to hoping that I still maintain some of my original reader base after this too-long hiatus. (Crosses fingers)
I always forget to mention easter eggs when they crop up in my chapters. I keep telling myself 'I'll reveal it in the next chapters authors note' and forget. So, here I am. Head start on this. When Phage says, 'I said I'm fine!' that was the same line Optimus Prime used in Transformers G1, More Than Meets the Eye, Part 2 after getting blasted outside the cave entrance to the Ruby Mines of Berma. I wanted something to entwine the two together in subtle ways and felt it was appropriate. Another easter egg is the mention of Cybertronian CPR. I described it as I did to nod back to Hound rubbing Spike's backside in the same Transformers G1 episode after he saved Spike from nearly drowning in the river.
Review Responses:
Guest: Thank you for the love for the previous chapter. I stressed badly on when Megatron should realize the truth, so it is good to hear that what I wrote was appreciated.
Tennoda: I always look forward to your reviews! Oh gawd, if every character was as demanding as Megatron or Soundwave I'm not sure if anything would ever get written! Speaking of Soundwave, I decided to portray the severity of the broken bond as I did for one reason really, and that was simply because of the age of the bond. Soundwave, Frenzy and Rumble have been with Megatron the longest canon-lore wise, so I just assumed that the three of them have been rolling together for equally as long or close enough to it. It just felt appropriate to display the bond break as something that was cutting deep, rather than I've seen done in say, Transformers Prime for instance, with Dreadwing sensing his brother's death as a 'disturbance in the force,' if you'll allow me my Star Wars pun here. Hahaha!XD Oh my gosh! Now I have the urge to create a GIF just for that scene of Megatron shaking Soundwave repeatedly! Glad you found it humorous, the dark humor STILL makes me chuckle. And thank you, thank you. I tried hard to flip the tables to make the readers feel for the Decepticons, and I figured the easiest way to do that was by mirroring something of Bumblebee's youthful role for the Autobots and make similarities in Skywarp. Seems I accomplished what I set out to do. And thank you again, it's good to hear that my jump scare with the drowning scene turned out exactly as I wanted it-but little inside tip, it was more than just a jump scare but a foreshadowing for the next chapter ;D
Wolf Girl811 - I can't say for certain that either femme wanted anyone terminated, distraction certainly, but things happen. Will Frenzy get a comeback? You'll have to keep reading to find out, I'm afraid. Ah, the dethroned Queen Shrapnel! I've really come to enjoy her character and absolutely her situation is not fair but she's doing the best she can. Glad to hear that others enjoyed the dark humor between Megatron and Soundwave when the former realized the facade Phage had been putting up. I enjoyed getting the revelation just right.
Guest -Yes! There is another chapter for this story, indeed there are many more planned.
Laurenthalas - Hahaha! Oh, I need that mental image of a cartoon light bulb popping up over Megatron's head. Will the Autobots get to safety-finally? (Glances towards rough drafts of the next chapters) Eer...suuuure they will. Yeah. Yes. Of course.
Mermaid12- It most certainly was not the end! Can I come back and finish writing it? Absolutely! Yes! This story has only haunted me for the last year. I wish I could show my readers how many drafts I went through in writing this chapter. Seriously, I think it went beyond the twenty drafts I did for Chapter Five, Strain!
"The longer the resonation process continues there's going to be a lot more you don't want me to see..."
-Phage, Chapter 3, Scream: Resonance
With a surge, Sea Spray and Jazz broke through the frigid salt water and were immediately set upon by the musical racket of Jazz's design. Operating in wordless synchronization, they took hold of the broken ledge with their free servos and, hanging from the floor, hefted Phage's slighter frame between them and passed her off to Bumblebee and Spike waiting anxiously overhead. Once she was clear they hefted themselves up and out, trailing a rush of water that pooled around them as they emerged. Sea Spray was still hauling himself out of the watery pit when a flood of messages poured over his visor from the extraction team at rapid pace. He caught only snippets of the texts, bits about 'unresponsive,' 'flooded systems' and 'elevated spark core temperature.' His cranium jerked up and caught sight of Spike and Bumblebee flagging Jazz over. Jetfire hovered nearby, the mech's visor down and scanning Phage over. The mouth of the cold frame Spike occupied shouted wordlessly what the messages were already telling him.
Adrenaline slammed hard through Sea Spray's systems. Before Jazz could pass along any sort of command, Sea Spray rushed forward. He slide in among the mechs, shoving Spike and the much larger Jetfire back. In record time he set about administering the Cybertronian medical standard for CPR, a process that, depending on the shape of the Cybertronian, either began as a Heimlich maneuver or violent pounding on the backside. Only in extreme situations the technique escalated to jumper cables to the spark chamber when the aforementioned failed to clear the flooded systems.
The extraction team tentatively crowded around Sea Spray as he gathered the ragdoll Phage in his arms and made the first jerk up into her abdomen.
Texts scrawled across his visor through the teams enclosed chat system.
Bumblebee- /I didn't know you knew rescue procedures!/ His youth managed to shine even through text.
Jazz- /There's a reason I comm'ed him. It wasn't just for his recon intel./
On the inside of Jazz's visor, he had a private, urgent message ping cross his screen from Jetfire.
/The mission is in jeopardy!/
He flicked his attention off of Phage and Sea Spray and borrowed it into the hulking red and white mech. Agitated, Jazz set his jaw and quickly pinged back, /Obviously./
/I meant my wing, not Phage. I can't fly with it damaged like this./ Jetfire's servos motioned to indicate the damaged wing from Shrapnel's lightning strike. /Whether or not Phage survives and we escape, I was suppose to transport her out./
Jazz's servo flashed outwards, palm up, indicating Jetfire stave off on slamming the panic button. /Phage will live./ Jazz quickly messaged. /You can still fly in bipdeal?/
/Well, yes, but not nearly as fast as I can in my alt./
/We'll just have to change up plans. She'll hitch a ride with one of us. Sea Spray, in fact. Best candidate./
/And what am I suppose to do when we make our escape and Starscream and the Seekers are right on my position?/
/We don't leave our own behind, Jetfire. Don't worry./
Slowly, Jetfire nodded along and ran a servo over his face and helm in a bid to ease the stress eating him alive. It did little to actually help. A realization struck him abruptly that he had to itch. /Is everything fine?/
Behind the visor, Jazz's optics jumped back to Jetfire. /What's that suppose to mean?/
/Only an observation. You always call Phage Lil' Katt./
/Yes. And?/
/You didn't. Just now. Is everything fine? You don't actually believe what Slingshot was saying do you?/
/Do you./
/There's enough to warrant legitimate concern. If Prowl heard the timeline of events, or Trailbreaker or Red Alert, there would be an investigation./
Jazz's mouth curled up as if he had tasted some bad energon. /Slingshot was throwin' around toxic slander./
/We'll see what an investigation says about that./ Immediately Jetfire wished he could retract the message at the severe frown Jazz threw his way. The large lumbering scientist shifted his weight and quickly messaged back, /That came out harsher than I meant./ But as Jazz continued to glower, Jetfire shifted his weight from pede to pede and quickly sent a follow up. /Excellent choice with Sea Spray, Jazz. As his alt mode can withstand the water pressure while providing the speed to get her to shore fast enough./
/Exactly./ Jetfire could practically feel the terseness of the message as it zipped across his crimson visor. /Once on dry ground, we'll switch Lil' Katt to one of the Aerialbots./
Jetfire tried not to raise an optical ridge at the deliberate use of Phage's nickname. Instead, he chose to nod approvingly and redirect his attention to keep guard on both entry and exit points on the hallway.
Lights.
Dazzling lights pierced through the visual snow consuming Optimus's vision. They came rapidly, bright multicolored spears thrown in the dark to banish it one moment and fade the next. Figures filtered through the twilight that reminded Optimus of Phage's aurora borealis thought patterns. The silent play was surreal and calming, until he likened it to a laserfire battle on an energon-depleted Cybertron and somebody had set off a smokescreen to make matters more interesting. With the simile, the celestial lights were far from calming.
A musical sonic boom, petered Optimus Prime's thought with the integrity of a waking dream, good ol' Jazz...
For a second time something kicked him hard in the abdomen and the pressure would not go away. And then his neural processor reminded him of the system-wide virus-like pain he was already in, burning up from the inside, something crawling just under his alloy skin.
Had he scanned a new form? He had no other way of comparing the sensation other than a new transformation gone wrong. Where was Ratchet...?
And then, suddenly, a hulking figure loomed out of the smokey gloom. Anxiety poured through Prime's thoughts. He knew the presence no matter the form or shape. The figure lifted his leading arm. One blast and the lights died.
A third hard shove on his abdomen and the tendrils of the dream dispersed into cold visual snow that gradually relinquished his sight back to reality. His consciousness burst from the greedy grasp of unconscious and slammed hard into the real world in a mixture of cold sweat, dread and adrenaline racing through his systems. His body convulsed and abruptly he was coughing up salt water from his air intakes and gasping for air interchangeable, suddenly terribly aware of the need to cool his inner systems from the redzone before there was irreparable internal melting damage.
Dazed and confused, Optimus struggled to bring his systems up to date. The static snow was too slow to clear from his vision for his liking. Gradually, he was able to pick out a smear of colors and fuzzy shapes darting in and out of his field of vision. A glint of yellow and Bumblebee was at his right patting his shoulder strut and shouting something directly into his audio receptor about nearly flooding his engine. Prime barely held back from chewing Bumblebee's cranium off with 'yes, he had noticed that,' as his frame sagged from stress. He held his glossa, managing a waning restraint.
When he drooped his cranium between his shoulder struts he caught sight of a smear of banana yellow and sky blue that was wrapped around his waist. The colors quickly righted itself into Sea Spray's arms and Optimus sharply realized that Sea Spray was hugging him tightly from behind. It took a half nanoklik from there for Optimus to register that his own paint scheme was white and teal, log that that was incorrect, and remember with a start that he wasn't seeing through his optics. He wasn't living through his body-he was piggybacking in Phage and-
And Sea Spray's arms were wrapped around Phage.
A sharp stab of possessive jealously shot straight through him. His thoughts churned darkly, rumbling internally to, 'Get off her.'
He tried to shove Sea Spray off with an elbow and lunge forward. He succeeded insofar as getting Sea Spray to reaffirm a stronger hold around them and jerking upwards into her abdomen again. Mixed emotions stormed through Optimus Prime as he was reminded once more that Phage's frame lacked the same physical strength he was so use too. And how should Phage's frame respond to the upwards thrust other than by spewing up the last dredges of salt water from her systems.
Just...what a wonderful day, thought Prime moodily.
Yanked from one emotional extreme to the next, Prime tried to center himself. It took simple reassurance that Sea Spray was Sea Spray. He had just saved their lives twice in under a breem and, for that, he had no reason to be jealous. Optimus had nearly succeeded when Sea Spray began rocking them gently back and forth and laid his forehead on the back of Phage's helm. The familiar contact set Optimus near critical again. Then, he picked out snippets of hushed muttering over and over again from Sea Spray, little praises to Primus reassuring that they were going to be okay and all would be well.
He felt himself back off from an angry outburst and cool. And then the anxiety set in and the doubt, were they going to be okay?
Were they...
She hadn't said anything since...
:Phage?: Prime probed the silence within Phage's cranium. The prolonged quiet and lull in the processor ache that had consumed their time-sharing consciousnesses had his anxiety rising sharply. ::Phage?:: Again Optimus called tentatively into the void of the mindscape. When no answer came forthright he shouted with alarm, ::Phage!::
Within the lucid planes between their processors there came at long last a small, tired reply. :Did I-Did I just pass out? Was that fainting?::
Awash with instant relief, and momentarily in full control of Phage's body, Optimus gritted her denta and squeezed her optics shut. Phage's cranium swung low between her shoulder struts. As her young consciousness stirred and awoke the processor ache redoubled and pounded away brutally against the inside of her cranium.
:Thank Primus.::
::I had the strangest dream.: Came a murmured thought from Phage. :What was it again? Lights. I remember lights and danger...::
In the mindscape, Optimus Prime's city-sphere reignited, gleaming as if it were a revitalized Cybertron, a glittering jewel floating in the sea of space. A Cybertronian landscape rushed outwards like tidal mercury before quickly solidifying into a solid ground.
It was on that alien landscape that Phage found the core of her very identity, her avatar, re-materializing on. Languidly she pulled her avatar back together with shadowy smoke and condensing liquid that solidified into Phage's familiar frame.
Before the fictitious Cybertronian landscape could cool, Optimus Prime's avatar re-materialized in a fiery blaze of Cybertronian script and code. He marched upon Phage's avatar as she struggled groggily and achingly to pick herself up.
:Op?: Whispered Phage's Send groggily.
Without slowing in his movement, Prime swooped down and seized her wrist firmly and sharply tugged her back to her pedes.
:Oh!: Gasped Phage's avatar. Her cranium snapped up to catch his face and was struck by the hard-edged, no nonsense glare burning in his optics.
::Into my Core. Now.: The hard-handed command echoed through their cranium and brooked no argument in the matter.
Obstinately, Phage pursed her bottom lip and shot him a perplexed glare. ::Why?::
A splash of white and blue swam in front of Phage, and Spike anchored himself into a low crouch. The cold frame propped his elbows on his legs and left his servos dangling between. A spark pulse passed between them before Spike lent forward and shouted to be heard above the noise pollution. "You look like shit."
Their cranium turned up, casting Spike a strained weary glare.
Spike gave a flippant little shrug of one shoulder strut. "If I had a mirror you'd agree."
Rather than take the nanoklik of time it would have required to answer her, Optimus began fairly nearly dragging her Avatar Core along by the wrist with an ironclad grasp, marching them straight to the open gates to his interlocking city.
::No. Wait.: Phage protested tiredly and tried to pull back but Optimus just yanked her forward and shot her one warning glare over his shoulder strut at her resistance.
She stared back at him wearily. :I don't think it would be wise if I went in there.::
:I won't have you flat-lining on my account!::
:What?: Her critical thought processes started firing off and snippets of medical knowledge gleamed from Ratchet and checkups with the Aerialbots trickled back to her. :No! No, wait!: And she tried to throw herself backwards against his pull, digging her pedes into the smooth metal floor as the gates of the city drew near.
Optimus halted and whipped around to shoot her a smoldering glare. :This is not up for discussion.::
::You're going to merge our minds!: Her thoughts had gone shrill in her rising panic. :We-we'd be like the Aerialbots—a combiner consciousness! They finish each other's sentences at the worst of times! And are peripherally aware of each other and-and-::
::I am accustomed to entanglement, Phage.::
::But—but I would be such a liability!::
:You're afraid.::
:Damn right I am! It isn't a normal thing for humans! Whether current or former!::
:We've been at risk this entire time.::
::We were never suppose to be!: Phage bleated. :It was suppose to be a snatch and grab and then dumb everything off on Ratchet! There was never suppose to be any threat of resonances and entanglements or anything!::
:You're commitment issues are showing.::
Phage's optics grew comically wide, especially that it was Optimus of all mechs who was calling her out. He Sensed her swing between emotions and settle quickly on the fast and easy road of childish temper-mentality and retorted hotly. :Well you're savior complex is showing!::
Her blustering got no other rise out of him other than a slight downturn of his cranium that deepened the shadow cast by the rim of his helm. From the depths, his optics flared and burned to twin piercing icy points. Wisely, Phage about faced and tried to free her servo again from his grasp. Optimus only tightened his grip.
:I get it.: Phage tried to sooth. :That last bit was close.::
::There have been too many close calls. The Stunticons. The extraction teams entrance. Rumble. Now we nearly drowned.::
:Optimus. I get it. You're rattled. I'm scared too. But the Autobots are here! You don't have to draw me into the Core of your consciousness for—what is it your hoping to do? Merge us to imprint me on your consciousness to save me, right. Is that it? Everything is going to be fine now! We're getting out. We'll be in Ratchet's care soon enough. Don't force this.::
While they held their mental battle, Spike shook his cranium once and added irritably, "What in god's name were you thinking-"
"Shut up, Spike." They both snapped off, echoing Spike's earlier words from the Kaonite standoff back at him. Spike jerked back, gaping at his cousin.
In the brief moment of distraction gifted unknowingly by Spike, Optimus reacted. He yanked Phage's avatar forward and slung her over his shoulder strut. Phage protested with an indignant squeak and then a mental yell that no one but themselves could hear.
:Help! I'm being abducted by Optimus Prime!::
She Sensed Prime's mental optic roll. :Ratchet can sort us out later.: He grumbled moodily as they neared the threshold of his city-sphere.
:Ratchet's gonna be so pissed! Oh! Yes-think about Ratchet! Hours spent listening to him berate our rash actions while we're in and out of surgery!::
:It seems an unavoidable road.: Grumbled Prime, but his hard march slowed and Phage quickly pressed on.
:He'd nag and nag and nag about how his time could have been spared if we just were patient! And of course he'd tell you no workload while you recover, so there would be nothing to distract you from his torturous tirade or counting the panels on the Medbay ceiling to occupy yourself.::
Optimus came to a stop in the shadow of the gate. :I have enough to contemplate without needing to count ceiling panels.::
:Enough to think over while the tyrannical Ratchet holds us captive for days?::
::Plenty.: Optimus Sent tersly, then added, :Lack of activity sounds like a personal fear of your own, Phage.::
::Ugh, it would be a vacation for you wouldn't it.::
:Not an ideal one. Your counter argument needs refinement.::
::But my point is made.: Phage retorted cheekily. Absently, her digits began trailing across his backside in soothing long strokes. :We're almost through this. We're gonna be fine. Don't jump the gun and force our consciousnesses to merge.::
::I can't loose you, too.:: The sudden vulnerable admission had her cheeky grin melting from her face. :This war has taken so much from me already.::
Phage grew still, mulling over the Sends and shared emotions. The tips of her digits ran along his shoulder struts and exposed neck cables. More and more, Optimus's consciousness calmed from his adrenaline and anxiety. And marvelously, the processor ache from hell lessened.
:You won't loose me.: Her Send was a silvery whisper, cool and soothing. Then, abruptly, her refined features pinched together. :But you've had an odd way of showing you care.::
Prime's optical ridges slopped downwards to meet over his olfactory. His attention refused to budge from the open gates that would carry them into his City-Core, nor would he put Phage's Avatar back on her pedes. Gradually, Phage's features darkened as she pried at his brooding thoughts, tried to get a Sense of his private ponderings, because she Sensed he was trying to hide something from her and that bothered her deeply. More so even when she felt him shield his private thoughts.
:Why have you had a hard time approaching me?::
:We need to stay focused on escaping.::
Her cranium whipped around, silver braided synthetic hair flying out in an arc. :You are trying to hide something!::
:Now is not the time, Phage.::
:Yes, it is.::
:No, it isn't.::
::You know what.: Phage's Send carried the sound that would accompany the click of her glossa if she had been speaking. :Go ahead and merge our minds. I'll get my answers then.: She Sensed the whole of his mind, from his avatar to his City-Core, stiffen, Sensed it readying its defenses. When he lagged too long in moody calculations to reply, if he ever meant to at all, Phage pressed on. :Entanglement isn't suppose to be about dominating one mind and shunting the other aside into a mental prison.::
He swiftly sat her down but did not release her. His servos squeezed her shoulder struts. :That's not what I had intended.::
:But it's what you had been about to do.: She countered. :Are you sure you're use to entanglement, or is it you meant you know about it.::
::I was resonated for millions of years, Phage.::
::Then step off.: She bit back. His servos fell away from her shoulder struts as Optimus flinched. :Unless we're on equal terms with this, and I get to know what it is that you are hiding from me that made the great Optimus Prime change tracks so fast.::
:Phage.: He dragged her designation, a quiet warning that racked her nerves.
Phage sucked in breath, reinforcing her resolve. :You've never hid anything from me! But I ascend to Cybertronian state and you're as distant as can be. I lost you when I needed my friend the most. I didn't do that, I didn't drive you away, you shut me out and for the life of me I can't figure out why!::
:You did not do anything wrong.::
:What is it then? You want to merge our minds to imprint me on yours in the hopes of saving me, yet stop at the mere threat of me digging through your memories to uncover the truth. Do you realize how silly that sounds? What aren't you saying that divided us? Why did you pull away from me when I ascended?::
:You're not going to leave off this.:: Followed Optimus's weary Send.
:Absolutely not. How could I knowing you've loved me and stayed away for two years? Its ridiculous. It makes no sense!::
:Now really is not the time for this discussion.::
:You are not brushing this aside!: Cool as an imposing statue, Optimus Prime stared down on her with resolute silence. Within nanokliks, Phage flustered and set her jaw. :Okay, Optimus. Fine. Fine. I'll-I'll willingly walk right in there if you tell me what's going on.::
Prime's thick optical ridges inched up his forehead at her suggested compromise. :Your counterargument has improved.: He teased gently. Phage pursed her bottom lip and stubbornly set her servos on her hips. A movement that crinkled his optics in a hidden smile as he swept her frame from head to pede and back. :However, your defiant pose needs work. It has as much intimidation factor as my old cyber-dog.::
:Op!: Phage hissed as she fell out of stance. :Wait, you had a -No! Don't distract me! Deal or no?::
As the Cybertronian script illuminating his skyline pulsed and twinkled, Optimus rumbled in contemplation. He mulled over the offer, brooded and pondered, his Cybertronian coded skyline pulsing and firing and fading as he churned the matter over. And Phage's psyche stressed and grew anxious the longer he took and began to pale as she Sensed the keen ancient mind of Optimus Prime turning the matter over and gauging all possible outcomes that he could chart.
He's not going to answer, Phage privately bemoaned.
The Cybertronian scripted skyline flared and briefly illuminated the dark of the mindscape. Momentarily, the optics of Prime's avatar flared in time and dulled to their usual liberty blue. Phage ducked her cranium, dreading his inevitable decline or, worse, cool stony silence.
Instead, he surprised her.
:The root of our dilemma goes back to the matter of your ascension.: Her avatar's optics flew wide open and transfixed to Prime as she allowed him to continue uninterrupted. :Phage, you were abducted and...uplifted.: The word left a stain on his Send and Phage immediately understood it was the nicest way he could put what had happened to her. :When you were retrieved, there were concerns how much of you was Alicean Witwicky and how much of you could have been a Lazalt spy. I was strongly advised to maintain my distance while we ascertained the truth.::
:We.:: Stunned that he had deemed to answer her question, Phage floundered to articulate a proper thought and finally managed a meek response. :There's an investigation.::
:Yes.: Optimus confirmed with finality.
:...Two years? It took two years for you to determine I was me?::
Prime quirked an optical ridge. :Two Earth years does not equate to a Cybertronian vorn, Phage. Why, investigations on Cybertron usually last for many vorns.:
He Sensed her thoughts pale as she made the connection just how different their concepts of time were. Realized, how abrupt and brash not just her decisions came off as, but all of humanity. :So, the investigation is technically going...:
His exposed optics were but another wall hiding his intentions while he studied her reactions with acute precision. :Indeed.: He Sent at last. :At the time, Red Alert strongly advised that we monitor you until either the Lazalt returned or for a probationary period of a million years.::
:One...million!?::
Optimus nodded curtly. :His suggestion was preposterous, of course. Probationary periods are much shorter than that.::
:Of course.: Sent Phage weakly.
:In addition, Ratchet had already ascertained you were clean.::
:Clean?::
::Of anything resembling mnemosurgic tampering.::
:Oh.: Phage said flatly, unsure of what else she could have said to that, stunned as she was as she absorbed the information. :But, there's still an investigation? Was. Is?::
:Is.::
She visibly paled and he felt her fuel pump begin to race with a spike of anxiety. :Why?: Her Send was shrill, almost squeaky. :You have been so adamant that I'm me.::
:At the time we had no way to confirm if it was you or an agent of the Lazalt.::
:I...I understand. I do. I get it.: Phage painfully relented. :You could confirm I wasn't under control but not if I was doing something under my own will or the will of a clone sleeper agent.::
Optimus nodded along gravely. :Thank you for understanding. I hoped you would. The safety of my Autobots is paramount.::
:They always have been.: Phage said carelessly, numbly, reeling from the revelation. :Oh my god!: She added suddenly, coming around and optics flaring. :Megatron was right!::
:Megatron?:: Echoed Prime sharply, his visible countenance darkening with grave lines. :What are you talking about?:
:After I developed my outliner ability and the 'Cons abducted me from the Ark!::
:I remember the day clearly. You told us he tried to recruit you. Was there something else Megatron said?::
:He said I was your prisoner. That I was living in a gilded cage.::
:Ah.: Optimus said simply and she felt the processor ache from hell lessen marginally. :You told me this then.::
:He-he wasn't lying to me, was he? I have been! You've kept me distracted with apprenticing out to Huffer, Wheeljack, and Ratchet and training with Ironhide-I've barely had time to breathe!::
Phage was familiar with the hard-edged gleam that stole across Prime's optics. It was the look he got when he was discussing Decepticon activities, enemy movements, but it was directed at her. :By now you of all entities should know that Megatron twists events and circumstances around to suit his purposes. He is a tactful opportunist.::
:Don't give me that b.s. you sell to everyone else!::
:Phage.: Rumbled Optimus sternly, pinning her to her spot with a dangerous gleam in his optics. :If you were a prisoner, you would know. I do not allow known enemies to waltz freely about my base, engage freely with Autobot personnel, nor do I allow Autobot officers to train my enemies.::
:But I've been under investigation? How does that work?::
:Phage.: The sternness went right out of Prime's tone, replaced with a fond gentle edge. :You are innocent until proven guilty. You had a clean pass from Ratchet and my account of when I went to retrieve you from the Lazalt.::
Relief and then confusion laced her features. :But you said Red Alert-::
His patience snapped. Her avatar jumped as Optimus bit back severely. :Red Alert panics over the most minor of security risks and demands extreme, if not ridiculous, measures to compensate! As I said, you are fully aware Megatron twists events around to suit his needs. He wants a phaser, which meant you, and he intended to say whatever he had to to acquire your skills. That aside, I would not have allowed you such freedoms, despite my Head of Security telling me otherwise, if I did not feel certain you were our Alicean Witwicky.::
At his aggressive tone, Phage rose up to match. :Innocent until proven guilty my ass! You listened to your Officers and pulled away from me! Two years, Optimus! Two years! You have told me repeatedly I am Alicean! Explain that hypocrisy to me! Go on!: The barb hit hard. His focus softened and Optimus glanced aside. Phage flared, flustering, then cooled almost immediately as she processed his reactions, their shared emotions and took the time to listen to the whispering of his walled off private thoughts. Inevitably, Phage's features contorted into pain. :There was doubt.: She said softly.
Prime's heavily burdened optics shifted upwards and held her gaze tentatively. :With any decision that puts my Autobot's at risk, there is always doubt.::
Immediately following her bite at Spike, Phage softened and added distractedly, "Tell me we're leaving soon. I already gave my dramatic exit spue to Rumble."
The face of Spike's exosuit shifted to neutral following her snappy reply and relented to a half-hearted crooked smile. "Soon enough. -Whoa, whoa! Don't get up just yet! Geez, are you trying to kill yourself? You nearly drowned!"
"I'm fine." Phage grit moodily as the robust android tried to force herself out of Sea Spray's arms and up onto all fours and stand from there. Desperately, Spike looked around to his fellow Autobots for assistance. Reluctantly, Sea Spray let them go, his servos hovering near her apprehensive ly in the event she pitched forward, but Spike grabbed her shoulder struts and forced her back down.
"Take a moment to breath, cuz!"
"I said I'm fine!" Phage snapped severely and took a swipe at Spike to shove him away. Spike lept back to dodge and Phage was thrown off balance. She pitched forward and kissed the floor. She made the critical decision that the cool surface did wonders for her processor ache and pressed her forehead firmly against the ground as the extraction team moved around her.
:Doubt.: Phage Sent numbly and laughed bitterly. :Of course. Was it because of doubt that had you assign Sunstreaker and Sideswipe as my bodyguards or was it really for my own protection after the Decepticons first kidnapped me?::
::They served as your bodyguards when you were human.::
::Optimus.: She Sent wearily.
:Both.: Optimus admitted at length. :But mainly for your protection.: His optical ridges knitted together, struggling with numerous thoughts and emotions before blurting out, :But you engaged them as more than that.: Warm color shot straight through Phage's cheeks, tinting them a brilliant energon blue. She gaped, and floundered, frustrated by the insinuation and moreso as Optimus continued. :I deduced your relationship with them awhile back. Between whose time you've spent the most with, it was either them or Wheeljack.::
:Pffth! Wheeljack?: Phage's Send hit an incredulous high note. :I like him as a friend, but I can not stand his slobbish tendencies or absent-mindedness! You've seen his Labs! I still can't believe you had me organize that disastrous room of discarded and disbanded inventions! Six months, Optimus! Six months it took to put an organization system in place and he still throws his shit into a pile near the door! The mech can't be bothered!::
:As I deduced, the Twins.:
:I'm seeing Sideswipe!: Phage hissed. :And he came on to me!::
:Phage.: Stressed Optimus patiently. :I've known Sideswipe and Sunstreaker for longer than humanity has walked this planet. I am aware of their personal tastes by reputation alone.: The hue of her cheeks went straight from a flush to a burning glow. While she gaped at him in mortification, Optimus muttered darkly as an aside to himself. :I'm going to have to have a talk with them.::
:Don't you dare!: Phage snapped angrily, coming back around. :What I do and with whom is none of your business!::
In a flash, Optimus's attention whirled back around on her, biting and angry. :I thought you had more sense than to be blindsided by Sideswipe's charm.::
:It's like you don't know me!: Phage squawked. :How many men blindsided me with charm when I was human! Three, Optimus! Three! And one of them was a damn Decepticon holoform!::
Prime's attention narrowed angrily. :Most would have learned from that and steered well clear of Sideswipe's advances!::
::You don't have the right to be jealous here! You had an opportunity and threw it away!::
:What if I hadn't.: Optimus insisted.
:Hadn't what?::
:Thrown my opportunity away.::
Phage shrugged her shoulder strut stubbornly, crossing her arms and refusing to meet his gaze. :Guess we won't ever know since there was a small voice of doubt in that cranium of yours.::
:Or, what if I had the opportunity again?::
:Pft! What?: She scoffed, addressing him. :I'm taken. I-I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you! Of all mechs! Even if I wasn't, I am not the little straight-laced Alicean you once knew. You couldn't handle me.::
A dark glint burned in his optics. Phage sucked in a breath, mesmerized by the primal allure his optics promised and the passion that flooded his every thought and, thereby, hers by extension. :The size of your Earth does not account for a fraction of the half of Cybertron I led through the worst of times and the best. I know I can handle you.::
Her avatar's mouth hung open. Her fuel pump sped up. Her cheeks, and that of her physical body, leapt from a bright energon hue to burning hotly. She floundered to articulate words or even thoughts as Optimus drew closer. His imposing avatar halted within reach for her avatar to touch his projected form if she so chose. Instead she instinctively took a step back.
:That's an original pickup line.: Her Send was slow and cumbersome to reply. :And wasted.::
:Is it?: His optics burned into hers, calling her bluff as he Sensed out her own thoughts. :You're relationship with him is turbulent.::
:Will you quit digging through my memories? And when did you even do that!::
::I did not need to. You just confirmed my speculation.::
:You...You are terrible!: She could not rid herself of the quirk of a grin that had plastered itself across her lips, nor hide the smile in the edges of her tone.
A particular cheeky gleam stole over his optics as Optimus canted his cranium ever so slightly. :You always enjoyed it.::
Phage gawked, then her aurora borealis thought patterns crashed. :It?: Phage echoed just before her optics widened. :How do you know I- Wait!: She demanded as Optimus echoed her shocked expression, optics widening and flaring. She caught the look, his surprise-his slip- before he tried to draw away. ::Wait.: She Sent angrily. :You've been drawing me around!: He said nothing, gauging her carefully. Daring her, she felt, to press the issue. She felt her emotions flare, heckled, that he had dared to try and hide the root of their issue by giving her scrapes. Moreso she was much more angry with herself for not seeing the larger picture long before. :The investigation isn't the biggest thing here is it?: Phage deduced, shaking her cranium in her own mounting rage and surprise. ::Why did the Autobot Officers tell you to maintain your distance from me? That's the real question here, isn't it? Why, Optimus. Nobody else really pulled away-Not Bumblebee or Jazz, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker sure as hell didn't seem to have a problem with me. Cliffjumper is really the only one that's made comments, but it's Cliffjumper.: Reflecting backwards over events, conversations, the emotions they were sharing while he was riding passenger, all made sense when-
:Were we a Thing?: Phage cried out and gaped as Optimus's optics widened further and then made to turn aside again. :Get back here!: Phage snarled, lunging forward and grabbing his wrist and wrenching him back around. :You can't tease me like that and run off! I demand the full truth! Now! Were we a thing when I was human? Human me and holoform you. We were a thing!?::
:Yes.: Optimus admitted, his Send steeped in bashful shades.
:This is why you've been so pissy about Sideswipe and why you've been acting so possessive!? You did have a right to be jealous!: She blinked hard. :Wait. Have I been cheating on you with the Twins? Holy sh-Does that even count? I have no memory of us!::
:I know you have no memory. It has been torturous for me.::
:But you kept quiet!: Phage righteously raged. :Because of doubt!? How long were we an item? How long, Optimus!::
His attention dropped to his flexing, fidgeting servos. :Five months and seventeen days before the Lazalt took you.::
She gawked, then promptly exploded.
:All this time and you held this from me! For two years! I know! I get it!: She said quickly, her servos moving in curt agitated motions. ::The investigation.: She snarked. :The matter of my ascension. But two years? You have been so adamant that it is me. You had to have had the power to close the investigation. You had the power to tell me all this sooner!: She blinked hard again. :Were you ever going to tell me? Oh god, did it end badly between us? Is that why? Were we even together when I was abducted?::
:Our relationship did not end. Not exactly. I still love you, Alo Ata. But-: Optimus's attention drooped to his pedes. :We were on a rough road before everything happened.::
Phage threw her arms in the air, gesticulating wildly. :Of course! Because it's me! Right? Always.::
His attention locked back with her furious glare. ::Alo Ata.: Optimus stressed tiredly. :We were in a rough crossroads because you questioned where our relationship was going.::
:Oh.: Phage derailed and calmed. Her arms dropped back to her sides. :Oooh-I crashed out of the honeymoon phase.::
Optimus concurred with a nod. :Your argument was valid. You put forth hypothetical scenarios such as if we left Earth if you would accompany us and how. More importantly, you brought up the glaring issue of life expectancy. Of all things, you felt it was unfair to me, though I argued it was more unfair to you. Inevitably, you asked me the one thing I hoped you wouldn't. You asked I expend our resources to construct a Cybertronian form and have your mind transferred to the protoform as we had done for Spike years before for his surgery.::
:You told me no.: Said Phage with a silver thin whisper. His attention dropped as he nodded once in agreement. :Why?: She pressed. Her digits trailed down his arm and took his servo in hers. :Optimus, I deserve to know.::
His tired, heavy optics found her young, curious ones. :Did I need a reason beyond how the mind transfer had degraded Spike's mind when we used it on him? He turned against us, Phage. You remember that. What if the same had happened to you? What if side effects did not show until long after everything seemed well and we terminated your organic body? Therein was another issue, ending the life of your carbon based shell...::
:But Spike had been in a car accident with Bumblebee and comatose when you transferred his mind!: Phage shot back. :The degradation could have been a result of the shock. There were so many variables at play. And you've never tested it on another organic since. Spike's experience doesn't mean that the technology was a failure!::
:Phage, you are repeating your same argument you issued to me when we fought over the matter originally.::
Her optics went wide and round, her mouth parting in a small 'o'. Shock locked her processes in silence. Gradually, Phage broke away, and Optimus moved to intercept, blocking her from returning to her mindscape. With Optimus mirroring her steps, Phage circled aimlessly back around, scrubbing at her face wearily. She found him again as her servo dragged down her face and asked meekly, :Why was it the one thing you hoped I wouldn't ask?::
His optics locked with hers, old and tired and full of regret. :If you had asked me again, I would have been unable to tell you no twice.::
:Damn it.: Phage hissed, optics glittering as she tore her attention away and focused on her pedes. :Damn it! The one time I didn't press a matter! Of course! Right? That's always how that goes!: Her avatar exhaled a noisy sigh. :What happened after? I have to know.::
:You did as you had been doing for years-:
::Oh, god.: Phage lamented. Knowing what was coming, she dropped her face into her servos again, covering her optics as she abused her bottom lip.
:-You tried to run. Not from the war this time, not necessarily, but from me, if you can count the two as separate.:
:Optimus...: Phage chided gently.
:We did not have time to talk after the fight. In hindsight, I wish I had not given you space that evening. I discovered you had booked a plane ticket for out of the country, back to Europe. By the time anyone realized you were leaving again it was the following morning. You were storming for the Ark exit with your luggage. We had our last exchange of words right there.::
:Last?: Phage said with alarm, peeking at him between her digits.
:Before your abduction by the Lazalt. I tried to convince you to stay, but you can be so stubborn. You tried to break things off right there.: Horrified and mortified by her own actions, Phage stood transfixed by his narrative as he recounted events. :I said everything I could to make you see reason, and I believe I got through those thick walls of yours- I assured you we would continue the discussion of your body transfer, but you insisted you were getting on the plane. You told me that time apart would be good for the both of us to think matters over carefully. Inevitably, we compromised and...I made a terrible judgment call in letting you go.::
:I didn't come back.::
His optics grew heavy. :Not as the Alicean we knew.::
:Dear god.: Phage said thickly. :Of all the other times I had left to travel, why then? It sounds too opportune to be coincidence.::
::I have had the same thoughts for the last two years.::
:Do you suppose the Lazalt had been monitoring the Autobots?::
:I do. It was the only sound conclusion.::
Precious nanokliks passed between their avatars. Then, hers moved forward. Her slim arms encircled his waist, buried her cranium against his chest and squeezed. Taken by surprise, Optimus stared down at her then returned the gesture.
"Hell of a way to be saying thanks." Grumbled Spike.
Phage jerked her cranium off the cool floor and shot Spike a bewildered, lost look. "What?"
His exosuit's face pinched up. Rather than answer her question, he met it with one of his own. "Are you crying?"
"No." Phage snapped indignantly, scrubbing at the rivulets of saltwater trickling down her face. "I'm not crying. We've just had a rough day."
"We?" Replied Spike, but his inquiry was lost to the noise pollution and Bumblebee who had cautiously edged closer to Phage, and when it was clear she wasn't going to lash out at him or chew his cranium off, he knelt into a low crouch to get on her level.
"Phage...?" Called Bumblebee tentatively. "We know you've had it rough today. I get that your angry. You have every right to be, but not at us. We're your friends and family. We're here to take you home! Come on." Encouraged Bumblebee with a smile as she rolled her cranium to shoot him a weary-optic gaze. "Take my servo. Let's get you up and out of here."
She considered his proffered servo. "Right." They relented. "Of course." They mumbled and accepted Bumblebee's aid. "Just get us out of here."
"Whose us?" Interjected Bumblebee, his chubby face crumpling into confusion.
"Second time she's said that." Spike mentioned to Bumblebee. Both minibots eyed her with growing concern as she went through a series of small facial twitches as she struggled to grasp at a way to answer. "Dear god, Phage." Spike asked in alarm. "Did the 'Cons do something to you?"
"Yes." She said straight away, her servo flying to her shoulder where Megatron had cut deep with her laser scalpel. An injury that had regenerated what felt like a lifetime ago, but the fresh memory tormented her. "No." She corrected quickly, her servo dropping from her shoulder as she took in their frightened and worried looks. "No, they didn't-I'm not...Not like what you think." She paused and took a moment to collect her thoughts. Phage searched for the right words to explain it all, what she had done on the battlefield, wondered if Spike and Bumblebee would even understand the process, would she have to explain that too? Briefly she consulted with Optimus and finally they settled that the meat could be offered after the barest of bones. She cycled a breath. On the exhale she dropped the bomb on them. "I have Optimus."
"What?" Scoffed Spike as Bumblebee's expression twisted up even more in confusion. "How hard did Rumble hit you?"
"It's-"
The music died. The ensuing silence was eerie and left an undeniable ring that they couldn't quite shake from their audios. In the silence that ensued, every last Autobot froze in place, adrenaline and dread rushing through their systems. Their craniums whipped around on their axis's to account for all exit points, but the lack of Decepticon activity just made them all the more paranoid.
Jazz had been transmitting the updated extraction plans to the team when the music cut out. "Slag." He hissed under his breath, then promptly burst into commanding action. "Alright 'Bots listen up!" Crooned Jazz as he not quite bounced and not quite pivoted into the midst of the group. His black servos were never still as they pulled his weapon from subspace and began checking the cell power and flipping the safety off without needing to look. "Initiate your pressurizing procedures. We need to hold this hallway until the Aerialbots arrive."
"This hall!?" Phage croaked, looking up and down. "It's hardly defensible!"
"We won't be here for long. Less that a breem really, if the Aerialbots step on it." Replied Jazz coolly.
"And where are they?" She shot back then gawked as she was talked over by Sea Spray. "I've been pressurized. It would be a rookie mistake not to be in our situation." Grumbled Sea Spray gruffly as he took to his pedes and met Jazz visor to visor. "I say we blow this joint now. Jazz? Are you listening?" Sea Spray trailed off at the hard gleam in Jazz's visor and the no nonsense frown focused pass him. Sea Spray followed his gaze and realized Jazz was focused on Phage.
Bumblebee and Spike were helping her to her pedes. Her movements were feeble, slow and cumbersome. Worse yet was the tell tale signs of a virus-stricken 'bot. Dark, energon-deprived rings framed her dull shifting optics. Sea Spray realized in a nanoklik what must have been going through Jazz's processor. A spike of anxiety shot straight through the veteran Made-to-Order. "Jazz!" He said hastily and tried to move to intersect the mech. "There's something-"
But Jazz had already bounded forward, swooping in next to Phage, Bumblebee and Spike with that anxious energy of his. Smoothly, Jazz stole Phage's white servo out of Bumblebee's black one and spun her around to face him.
"Hey there, Lil' Katt. So look, we don't have a lotta time to talk here, ya dig? But I have to ask, what's the sitch?"
"Uhrg?" Came her oh-so elegant reply.
His mouth pressed into an even tighter frown. His grip tightened on her arm before he jerked it up for her and all the extraction team to see. "What's this?"
"Jazz!" Sea Spray hissed, but was ignored as a confounded Jetfire talked over him. "Those are translocks, Jazz."
"Yes. Thank you, Jetfire." Jazz snipped without breaking his attention from Phage. He shook her arm. "But why do you have them? You can't transform, 'Lil Katt. The 'Cons know that. Seems a rather pointless effort."
Her optics narrowed as she picked up on the note of accusation in his voice. "They're modified translocks, 'Zee. Megatron had Starscream alter them to emit a null current if I tried to phase."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes, really."
"And they work?"
"Painfully so." She snapped tartly. "I'm sorry, is this going somewhere?"
"Why didn't you slip them?"
"What?" Phage spluttered indignantly. "How do you expect me to do that!?"
"By shifting your size." Jazz shot back, clicking his glossa on each individual word for emphasis. "The translocks inhibit transforming, but that's not what you do. You could have shrunk to your human size using your subspace drive and slipped them. So- Why. Didn't. You?"
Gobsmacked, Phage gaped openly at Jazz for several seconds then promptly face-palmed into her free servo. "Fffffu-Aahack!"
"Well that's a new curse if ever I've heard one." Teased Spike.
"Oh, Lil' Katt. It is you!" A genuine smile lit up Jazz's face as he swept her up into a tight hug. "Nothing can fake that kind of naivety!"
"Ugh?" Phage managed to express as Jazz attempted to squeeze the life out of her. "What did you think I was?"
"Doesn't matter." Jazz replied curtly as he almost immediately shoved her away at arm's length with both his servos on her shoulder struts and squeezed hard. "But seriously." Jazz said earnestly. "Did the 'Cons do something to you? You have the look of an infected 'bot. Did they inject you with a virus?"
His exposed features twisted up in concern when she chortled and melted away again when she responded, "Spike said I looked like shhh..." Jazz's optical ridges shot up behind his visor as she dragged the word out, lisping as if drunk and corrected, "Spike said I looked terrible."
"None of that was reassuring or a proper answer to what I asked."
She opened her mouth to respond and instead abruptly sucked in air noisily, doubling over and wrapping one arm around her midsection while the other flew to her spark. A sudden extreme wave of heat blossomed in her chassis and raced through every circuit in her frame leaving her with the painful sensation that she was melting internally. Phage dropped heavily to her knees, defiantly gnashing her denta against the pain as she quietly wrestled through her ordeal. All around her the extraction team dissolved into chaos. Jazz swooped into her field of vision, lowering himself into a crouch to place himself on optic level with her. He squeezed her shoulder strut, his mouth moved but the words came from very far away...
:Optimus!: Wailed Phage's Send across the mindscape. Her avatar, like her physical body, was reacquainting itself with the alien metal surface of Optimus Prime's half of the mindscape, where she laid curled in on herself. :Make it stop! Make the pain stop! The crawling and burning-!: Optimus was kneeling beside her, and despite their predicament the sheer force of his presence made her feel secure, that whatever was happening he could get them through it. :Optimus!::
His arms wrapped around her smaller frame and effortlessly hefted her up into his arms. :I recognize the symptoms.: He Sent solemnly. :A reformat has been steadily creeping up on us for some time.::
:The resonance! I thought we had more time!::
:It seems not. Perhaps your regenerative ability expedited the process?::
:How are you so calm!? We have to make it stop!::
:Alo Ata, at this stage I doubt we can.:
She gritted her denta and closed her optics, focusing intently on burying the pain to keep from screaming. Optimus Prime's optical ridges knitted together. His arms tightened around her and Sent gently, :Listen to my voice, Phage. You have to stop fighting against it. Breath. Allow the reformat to happen. Let go of your apprehension and succumb to the program.::
:No!: She balked. :We-::
:Breathe, Phage. This doesn't have to be painful. I've reconfigured countless times. Clear your mind. Find your center and breathe. Let the transformation happen.::
::No! What if-what if Ratchet can't fix us!::
:Right now, that is not my biggest concern. Right now, if you cannot let go, Phage, we will risk termination.:
"-hage! Phage! What did the 'Cons do!? Did they inject you with a virus? Lil' Katt! I need to know!"
"Jazz!" Sea Spray tried to interject once again.
"No!" Phage hissed as she cycled a breath, hoping and let down when it did not help to cool her systems. "Megatron-" Tried, she had been about to say, with the Altihex virus in the Decepticon badge, but Jazz spoke over her. "Then what's wrong? Did they plant a bomb in you?"
"Jazz!" Sea Spray tried again and again was ignored.
"What?" She gasped as she struggled for more breath to cool her overheating systems. "A bomb-? No!"
"Then-"
Jetfire leaned over the huddled group and said softly, "If I may interject, but my scans revealed an elevated spark core temperature-"
"You scanned me?" Phage shouted indignantly. "You're not my doctor!" Fevered pain stabbed at her again and again Phage sucked in air and bared her denta in her personal march through the pain. She bent back double over, both arms latched around her midsection, and began rocking back and forth.
Jetfire's red visor retracted into his helm with a ssshhhk! "Pardon the breach of protocol, but I had legitimate concern of Decepticon tampering. You will be glad to hear that I did not detect any explosives. That said, it seems Phage is exhibiting classic symptoms of an impending reformat. Elevated spark core temperature, I'm sure she feels sensations of melting and circuity rerouting-"
"Only for hours now!" She interjected, grunting from the floor.
"-It is often described as an itching under the alloy-all normal symptoms." The only gratitude Jetfire received for his diagnosis was a strained grunt from Phage.
"I thought she couldn't transform!" Spike interrupted, the cold frame running its servos over its helm, echoing the motions of the pilot within the suit. Spike's optics jumped from Phage as she was overcome with yet another flash of pain and again to the mechs around. "Reformates are when you take a new form, right?"
"Yes." Jetfire said simply. "And my scans show she has a T-cog now." He announced somberly, his attention shifting to Sea Spray and Jazz with a certain look that Phage did not like in the least.
:Something's wrong here.: Intoned Optimus.
::Besides the obvious?: Bit back Phage fiestily. :I can't have a T-Cog!:
"Lil' Katt!" Phage was startled by the aggression in Jazz's tone. Moreso as he seized her by her shoulders and hefted her half of the floor. Shock, fear, and pain played equal parts across her features as Jazz shook her violently and yelled in her face. "What did you do?"
:Oh! Oh no, Jazz! No!: Lamented Optimus's thought and Phage picked up on the realization and added, ::The investigation! Oh, god! He can't possibly think-::
"You betrayed us for some damn upgrades!" Jazz yelled, shaking her violently. "Optimus is terminated!"
"Jazz, you don't understand! I-!"
"Try me!" He snarled, cutting them off.
"Jazz!" Sea Spray shouted and shoved his way between them. "Stop! Put them down! Jazz!"
"What?" Jazz shouted aggressively.
"You need to back off and cool down!" Sea Spray roared back at his face. With a powerful heave, he broke the two apart, shoving Phage towards Bumblebee and Spike as he single-handedly pushed Jazz backwards into the nearest wall.
"You heard Jetfire! You were with Slingshot just an hour ago!"
"I hate traitors too, Jazz! But you have this all levels of wrong!" Sea Spray jabbed his arm harder across Jazz's chest as the mech tried to struggle to break free. "If I let anyone of you do anything to them you would never forgive yourselves."
Jazz stilled his efforts, his breathing cycling short and hard through his olfactory and auxiliary vents. "Them? ...Them?"
"Them." Sea Spray retracted his battlemask and leaned in close until their faces were inches apart. The extraction team's attention was arrested on the two, hanging on to every move and word. "You are not addressing Phage. She hasn't been Phage since the battle. You are addressing a combiner conscious."
Jazz's mouth moved, silently echoing Sea Spray's words, then gradually, as he calmed, gained some gusto. "A...a combiner conscious."
"That's right." Gruffed Sea Spray with a spreading smile, slowly easing his weight off of Jazz and letting him off the wall. His voice held at conspiratorial levels, his optics shifting between Jazz and the nerve-wreackingly empty hallway. "Optimus Prime isn't terminated. Phage has his spark." Even though he had whispered the dangerous information, he felt like it went off in the hallway like a gunshot. The release of the information had the liberating effect he was desiring. All the fight went right out of Jazz. His face slackened and went pale.
"She what!" Jazz hissed back on a strained whisper.
Sea Spray backed up but held his arms to either side in a placating gesture, gauging Jazz for a sure-fire reaction. The mech looked dazed, bewildered, glancing between Sea Spray and Phage, who was huddled against Bumblebee and secured in his protective embrace, Spike knelt just beside them and all three were staring back at Jazz as if they had seen him for the first time.
"It's true, Jazz." Sea Spray tried to sooth in his rough rolling manner as Jazz's attention swept back to him and then landed again on Phage. "They wanted to pass me Prime's spark because they thought they were going to terminate down below."
Drawing in short, strained breaths, Phage glared steely up at Jazz. With the weight of the information Sea Spray had just lain upon the team, Jazz was startled by the familiarity of the glare- the weight and age behind it that had never been there before. When they spoke, her voice dropped in octave and gained an assurance and gravity to her tone that Jazz could liken to only one other Cybertronian. "Jazz. Your dedication to the Autobot cause has always been admirable," and the steely glare took on a frightening icy fire, "but I've warned you in the past about leaping before you look. Phage is, and remains, one of our oldest allies on Earth."
The extraction team gaped at Phage, Bumblebee and Spike with optics as wide as saucer plates. The inside of Jazz's mouth went dry. He struggled for articulation as a storm of emotions raged through him between internally cursing Slingshot for starting all of the doubt, to a tiring yanking from grief to flooded relief that Optimus was alive.
"I tried to tell you." Sea Spray murmured.
"Optimus." Jazz breathed, face crumpling. "Phage." He corrected as a measure of confusion took him. "I'm-I'm sorry. Today's been trying and-and—How?"
Phage was about to answer when her face contorted in pain once again. Already huddled on the floor with Bumblebee and Spike guarding close beside, they gritted their denta as they struggled through the white hot pain.
"She's burning up!" Bumblebee cried, lifting one servo off her shoulder and touching her lightly on her back. "Everywhere!"
"She-They," Jetfire corrected himself, "are going to undergo a reformat if we don't do something soon!"
"How do we stop it?" Shouted Spike.
"I'm not sure if we can." Jetfire returned, running a servo over his helm. "I'm a scientist not a doctor! This is Ratchet's territory! I can tell you why they're undergoing a reformat, but I don't know how to stop it!"
"A lot good you are!" Bit Spike.
"I was brought along as the get-away!" Jetfire snapped back.
"And you can't do that either!"
"Shut up! Both of you!" Yelled Jazz, seizing charge once again. "Sea Spray! I brought you along for a reason!" Jazz jabbed a digit at Phage in Bumblebee's arms. "You have medical training-help them!"
"Jazz, I think-"
Her frame super heated, burning white...
"-it might be too late for much of anything!"
"Gods!" Phage cried out between strangled breaths.
"Bumblebee! Drop them!" Sea Spray shouted. Startled, the yellow minicon did just that, hastily putting them on the floor and mumbling a series of apologizes. "Now back away! Give them space! Reformat's can get-"
Spike had witnessed the Autobots and Decepticons transform between their alt and bipedal modes innumerable times. Each time he had thought it was the most amazing achievement in the world. But what he witnessed with his cousin-turned Cybertronian raked his mind. Out of morbid fascination, he found he could not look aside as Phage's base protoform took on a mercurial sheen. Beneath the alloy-skin, the endo-skeleton broke apart and began to reconfigure to its new shape. Twin slim rectangular shapes molded into her shoulder blades and then sunk inwards. Out of the holes formed new joints and from the new joints panel wings took shape. Unintelligible, primal groans pressed through their clenched denta as they swallowed the screams whole. They curled in on themselves, shaking, one servo clenching and banging the floor in the next. Unable to watch his cousin suffer through the rest, Spike tore his gaze away and covered his mouth with the back of his servo. "That is some werewolf lycanthrope sh-" His curse was drowned out as the Autobots went into a panic and began barking at one another.
"She's having difficulty taking shape!" Rattled off Jetfire in alarm.
"Don't fight it, Phage!" Encouraged Sea Spray.
"We need a blacksmith!"
"There are no blacksmiths, 'Bee!"
"Ratchet!" Squeaked the yellow minibot.
"Not here!" Barked off Jazz, "And I don't know if he knows-"
"He has too!" Cried Bumblebee in pure blind faith, his voice cracking on the edge of desperation. "Ratchet knows everything about anything!"
Jazz grit his denta. "He's still not here, 'Bee!"
Her breathing came harsh and ragged, noisily sucking air through her mouth and auxiliary air intakes. "Get him out." Phage exploded roughly on her next breath. "I can't..." Her voice cracked. "I can't anymore, Jazz...Feels—like I'm melting...from the inside out! And the headache-!"
Jetfire's optical ridges knitted together in the midst of his forehead. "Resonances don't invoke processor aches!"
"They do if you steal a conscious!" Phage groaned from the floor.
"You-" Jetfire gaped. "You performed a high risk cortical psyche patch on a battlefield? With your limited medical training! Ratchet was right about you—you have a few chips loose upstairs!"
She turned her cranium enough off the cool floor to throw Jetfire an evil side eye glare. Speaking through her denta, Phage's voice was reedy and stressed. "I have Prime. Results, Jetfire. Results."
Jetfire was spluttering when Jazz cut him off. "We need to get you out of here! The Aerial- Holy fragging Primus, Lil' Katt!" Jazz exploded suddenly, earning a disapproving glare from who he could only assume was Prime for the language, "Does Megatron know?!"
"No." They slurred, squeezing their optics shut and pressing their forehead against the floor. "What about the Matrix?!"
To that, Phage barked out a loud singular laugh. Despite her grevious state, her optics twinkled with mischief. "Not here. It's safe. Hidden, actually.:
In a fit, Jazz chewed his bottom lip and ran one servo over his helm. Half a nanoklik later, he exploded on her again. "Why are you making my life difficult, Lil' Katt!"
"I don't know, 'Zee." Snarked Phage quickly and carelessly. "Why does the universe seem determined to make me the centerpiece of its play. I never gave consent!"
His mouth pulled into a small frown. "Nobody does. That's why its called life. It's fundamentally dynamic. You're a bit late to the party on that revelation."
"Jazz, if you please! Quit antagonizing her for one breem!" For the second time in less than a breem the extraction team gaped at her. "Will someone please!" They begged in a shrill voice that could have only been Phage. "Someone please take Prime's spark!" Lubricants pricked at their optics. "I thought I had more time before this!"
"Will that work?" Asked Bumblebee desperately around to his elders. "Will taking Optimus's spark stop the reformat?"
"Theoretically, perhaps!" Jetfire was quick to say.
Bumblebee stepped forward and bravely puffed out his chassis, announcing suddenly, "I'll take Optimus's spark then!"
"That's noble of you, 'Bee, but you'll just end up in Phage's same position. I'll take him." Sea Spray said tersely.
"How is that any different?" The little yellow minibot challenged.
"Because I'm willing to bet that you never completed any rescue course nor upgraded for a shielded secondary spark core to house a fallen comrade's!"
:I am sensing so much emotional baggage there.: Phage popped off to an unamused Prime while Bumblebee demurred, deflated and stepped back. "No, I never have."
"Mechs! Mechs!" Phage cried loudly, reigning the attention back in on her. "You're all pretty! Now will somebody take him! I DON'T CARE WHO!"
"Then allow me!" Answered a familiar harsh cadence from the end of the corridor. Horror swiped across every face as each Autobot pivoted, cold dread slapping hard with their sudden spike in adrenaline.
"Megatron!" The designation ripped from Phage's throat in a shrill scream. A warning given too little, too late.