The Honor in Duty
Chapter 16
Halcyon
Author's Note: Okay guys, this chapter is honestly just such a fluff-fest and I think it's been long overdue. I've had a lot of fun writing this chapter so I hope you have just as much fun reading it! I love you all for reading and reviewing, you're my motivation!
The planet was little more than a sparkly marble in the window by now. Its surface had been far darker than the last time she had seen it from space. But at this distance, the light of the suns shone off its surface and made it gleam like a newspark's protoform. The splendor of the suns masked the rust underneath; hid the dried up Energon wells and the ruined citadels.
Her tanks were still churning from the sights she saw as the Nemesis circled Cybertron before breaking orbit and setting off into the unknown.
Meister sat beside her, sipping at his rations as he stared out at the speck that was their home. Somehow it just felt wrong to look away when they could still make out its light from the others. She supposed she wasn't really leaving anything behind. Everything she was living for was here on the Nemesis as much as it was in Kolkular or Kaon. Where Soundwave went, she went: there was work to be done.
"Do you think he'll get my message?"
Her voice sounded weak. She made a disgusted face at herself behind the safety of her mask.
The charcoal and red mech looked at her, his optics seeming to bore into her. There was something behind them that she couldn't understand, but ever since they first met, she had been unable to think of a way to ask why he had that look.
It was none of her business anyway, she supposed.
"If he cared half's much as you do, he'll get it." Meister's engine growled as he watched coolant pool in her optics. Thank the Allspark there was no one else in here. "But if he cared half's much as you do, the piece of slag wouldn't have left in the first place."
"Don't say that."
She didn't try to deny it though. She felt the same way. He was her best friend, her only friend, and he just left without even giving her time to process it. He wasn't even going to say goodbye if she hadn't have found out.
Maybe their friendship didn't mean as much to him as she thought.
"Guys, you are not gonna believe the day I've had." Bulkhead declared, stomping into the base cheerily as though nothing had happened, casting a glance at Terabyte over his shoulder.
Until their optics landed on the stasis pod in the center of the silo chamber. Inside, Airachnid's frightened and angry face screamed. Terabyte stifled a shudder at the femme's expression.
"Oh," The Wrecker grunted, "You too huh?"
Terabyte stepped out of the shadow cautiously, her wings pinned back anxiously. She tried to force them to relax but to no avail. One of these orns, she would need to get Skyquake to teach her how to assume control over the appendages. He could give her flying lessons too.
"Jetfire?" Optimus inquired, suspicion underlying his gentle tone, "It is unlike you to venture beyond the comforts of your laboratory."
She opened her mouth to speak, feeling her wings shift, betraying whatever it was she might have said. Jetfire's wings hardly ever shifted, the mech only seemed to feel one emotion: curiosity.
Skyquake's optic ridges pulled into a scowl and he poked her shoulder, making her pull away nervously, her frame heating up. Primus, she couldn't even stand next to the mech without feeling nervous now.
I love you... one day you'll understand...
Her vents kicked on with a spluttering whirr and she let out a little cough, stepping away from the jet and trying her very best to put on a Jetfire-brand smile. Processors scrambled to find a believable excuse, which was quickly wiped from her vocs by a wrench to the helm.
"What on Cybertron is wrong with you, you two-bit, dent-brained, glitch?!" Ratchet's roar echoed through the room as everyone stared in shock as the medic came out of nowhere, wielding his wrench in a blaze of fury. "A Urayan slag-beetle has more sense than you! A mentally-deficient glitch-rat has more sense than you!"
She cringed, trying to cover her helm to stop the wrench, but the medic just took that as an opening to lay into her knuckles. "Ratchet I can explain..."
"Explain? Explain what? Even Cliffjumper has more sense than you!"
"Hey!" Cliffjumper objected, but his further complaints went unheard.
"Ratchet, allow Jetfire to explain hims-"
The medic cut Optimus off with a dismissive wave, dragging Terabyte towards the med-bay with surprising ease, "Jetfire is in his lab. This slag-helmed fool is Terabyte, who can't seem to get it into her dense processors-"
"Enough Ratchet." Terabyte growled at the medic, interrupting his tirade. The deepness of the white jet's voice made it all the more satisfying. She pulled out of his grasp and sat herself down on the berth, levelling a dark glare on the medic.
"Well if you would just-"
She let another growl build up from her engine, rumbling through the room with a power that was nearly addictive. "I am in too much pain to put up with your ranting. Either assist me out of this form or leave me to my own care."
A hand rested on her shoulder and she looked up to see Skyquake standing beside her. She relaxed slightly, feeling her wings flutter almost imperceptibly, drawing the jet's attention for a fleeting moment. His EM field seemed to soften around her, making her wonder what exactly it was that he interpreted the flutter as.
Ratchet nodded and reached for the abdominal plating she had bared for him, beneath which lay her t-cog. He opened the paneling and began prodding at it with a delicate tool that looked strangely like a lockpick, beginning what would be the long, painstaking process of manually transforming her frame. She felt her foot Shift with a shudder, the plating of the limb shimmering as the nanites rushed to comply and deconstruct the excess material.
Her tanks churned and she felt a twinge of pain starting at her spark and radiating through all of her life-lines. She curled in on herself, clutching her arms as if to dig her claws into her armor, but unable to with the rounded servos of Jetfire's frame. Vaguely the femme was still aware of Skyquake beside her, but all she could feel or hear was the fire coursing through her frame. The large, sensitive paneling of her wings felt like it was being peeled off in tiny strips.
Pain, pain, pain, so much pain. Her spark would burst, she couldn't bear it, so much pai-
Sedatives.
Sedatives would make her pain stop.
Far, far away she could hear Skyquake yelling. If she focused, Ratchet was yelling back. But the static creeping in made it too taxing to focus. She heard a click and it felt as though the peace of the Allspark flowed through her, dancing through her frame from her wrist. She could feel every inch of pain slowly being wiped away.
She sighed contentedly, leaning into Skyquake's frame and purring faintly. After a moment longer, she drifted out of consciousness, collapsing completely against the softness. She wasn't certain if that softness was berth or Skyquake, but as warmth flooded her spark and lines, she couldn't bring herself to care.
The world was beautiful and warm and soft and full of Sky.
She curled up into a ball, pulling her armor in with a happy little whirl, loving the warmth of her armor against her protoform. It was nearing the end of the year and the air under her flared armor always bit at her frame. Her armor was so soft and snuggly, why would she ever flare it?
Soft and snuggly.
The little femme burrowed into the berth some more, shushing it when it murmured for her to stop moving so the medic could continue his work. So warm and nice. Her lifelines were tingling and she felt so completely relaxed and peaceful.
Also there seemed to be another bot in her helm.
Terabyte poked the other mind lazily, giggling softly when it pulsed grouchily.
"Hi Racheth... Hatchet... Ratchet! My thoughts don't fele like being spelled properohly ttoday."
It was such a strange thing how if one thought about it too much, suddenly their thoughts would be in type and need spelling and punctuation and such. Or maybe that was just her.
"Ratchy whatcha doin in my head?"
"I'm going to put you back into recharge now Terabyte. The sedatives are still in your system and the withdrawal will be harder if you're conscious of them being in your system for long."
She growled, hostility filling her mind and firewalls forming around her recharge coding. "I don't want to 'charge anymore. The world is soft and nice and I like it."
Ratchet sighed, trying to radiate contentedness and compliance into her processings but she brushed it off. She was plenty content already, but that didn't mean she wanted him to put her back in recharge.
"Please don't make this difficult, femmeling."
Her berth sat up and embraced her, telling her something about listening to medics and sleep being good for her. She told it to shut up. Silly talking berth. She just woke up.
She felt a pain in her helm and groaned as her optics powered down. Stupid berth, distracted her from the mean bot in her helm.
Skyquake stroked the little femme's helm as she once again went limp in his arms. It felt much less strange now that she was in her own form again. Cradling her in Jetfire's frame had felt too strange for him to put into words. Not to mention the mech was much too large to curl up in his lap in the way that Terabyte did once the sedatives had knocked her unconscious.
At least her EM field never changed. That was the only give away when she Shifted. But bots who didn't know her EM field or the field of whoever she impersonated very well would never notice the discrepancy.
Her finials flickered when his hand stopped stroking, leading him to resume the action, feeling very much as though he was a sparkling again, petting a stray cyberkitten on the streets of Kaon. She sighed softly in her recharge.
"Ratchet..." He spoke softly for fear of waking her again. "How long before the sedation wears off?"
The medic sat down on the berth beside him, running a servo over his face with a heavy sigh, "Perhaps another two or three joors."
A loud clang drew their attention to the doorway, eliciting a deep growl from Skyquake as he caught sight of Bulkhead's sheepish expression.
"Sorry-"
"What are you doing here, Wrecker?" He snarled, arms wrapping tighter around the sleeping two-wheeler. "Your presence is unwanted."
The mech averted his optics, armor falling loose against his stout frame. He scrubbed the back of his helm for a klick before speaking, "Is she okay?"
"Does she look okay to you?" Skyquake retorted, engine still rumbling. In his arms, Terabyte's expression shifted to a scowl and she shrank into him, her engine letting out a muted whine.
Now Ratchet growled, "Skyquake, you're disturbing her."
"This glitch-helmed, spiteful piece of slag just came to see if the femme he tried to off is going to die and you want to tell me I'm disturbing her?!"
The femme moaned, stirring fretfully in her sleep. Skyquake bit his glossa and took in a deep vent, trying to give himself a calming aura. Now would be an excellent time to have her uncanny knack for manipulating her EM field, but he didn't, so this would have to do.
Bulkhead shuffled his way into the cramped med-bay room, bumping a few pieces of medical equipment as he went, gaining him a glare from Ratchet. Once he'd tucked himself into a spare corner, the large green mech watched Terabyte recharge until Skyquake got himself under control enough for the unconscious femme to relax.
"Look..." the Wrecker mumbled, wringing his hands as he tried to think of what to say, "I know the three of us haven't been on exactly the best terms... Oh, hi Bee."
The yellow mech peeking around the corner buzzed happily as he was noticed and let himself in, darting over to sit on the counter next to Bulkhead. "Sorry to interrupt."
Everyone in the room remained silent for awhile.
Skyquake huffed, typical that the Wrecker would use the scout's arrival as an excuse to get out of whatever half-sparked speech he was planning on giving. To his surprise, Bulkhead cleared his throat, glancing between Skyquake, Bumblebee, and Ratchet nervously.
"Um, yeah. We may not be on the best terms..."
"You pinned her by the throat and tried to strangle her in front of four human sparklings."
"You tried to kill me for it."
The jet shrugged, shifting slightly to let Terabyte wrap her wandering hands around his servos and hug his hand close to her spark. His voice was flat, his expression devoid of emotion, but holding a slight smirk all the same, "A shame, I usually succeed."
Bumblebee let out a sharp bleep of warning, putting a hand in front of the Wrecker to stop him doing anything reckless. He didn't to have bothered though, Bulkhead made no move towards the jet.
Bulkhead glared at him but continued, "But that femme is one of the most selfless little scraplets I ever met, and it's obvious she's fightin' for the right things."
"N'awww." Skyquake crooned, hateful sarcasm dripping from his vocs, "Does Bulkhead wanna be friends now? How sweet."
"No, I don't expect you to forg-"
"Primus." The jet looked at the others, laughing coldly, "Hey Cliff, I know you're eavesdropping out there, get a load of this."
At that Cliffjumper joined the group, sitting on the berth's headboard since there was no more room for him. Arcee and Optimus followed the red mech in, standing in the middle of the room as there was nowhere left to go. Jetfire too came to stand in the door between the ward and his laboratory.
"Allow him to speak, Skyquake." Optimus prompted gently yet leaving no room for argument.
After a long pause, Sky tilted his helm slightly and Bulkhead continued, "I don't expect forgiveness, much less friendship, but she's got my respect. She got hurt saving my aft, Ratchet, I just wanna know if she'll be okay."
Ratchet pinched the plating between his optics, looking over at the sleeping femme. "She's stable. I had to sedate her, so there will be some regression in her recovery from the addiction. I've disabled her ability to Shift because it is tearing her spark and t-cog apart and compromising the molecular stability of her frame and, in particular, her protoform."
"But that ability is an invaluable asset to us, perhaps if we could merely modify the process, improve upon it?" Jetfire took a step towards the femme, halting as everyone in the room looked at him with utter disgust.
"That "invaluable asset" is killing her, and you want to experiment with her?" Arcee shook her helm, moving her hand to her hip and accidentally elbowing the Prime's pede in the process. "We're talking about a friend here, not a lab rat."
Optimus nodded, glancing over at the little two-wheeler bundled up in Skyquake's lap. A smile crossed his lips as he noticed that she had magnetized her hands to the jet's hand, rendering his arm immobilized. "Arcee is correct, however valuable the ability to Shift may be, it is not more valuable than Terabyte's spark or quality of life. You made the right call, Ratchet."
"Obviously." Ratchet huffed, glaring at the entire Autobot team crammed into his med-bay like sardines, "Now quit cluttering my med-bay and let the femme rest without a slagging audience."
The medic shooed everyone out of the room and stood in front of Skyquake with a scowl. "You need to get some rest as well. Which you can't do in here, worrying about her. She will be in forced recharge for at least the next sixteen hours. Get out."
Skyquake scowled right back at him, not budging. "I guarantee I won't get any rest elsewhere either. Nothing you can say or do to me will encourage me to leave."
Ratchet grumbled under his breath, reorganizing the room and moving all the displaced equipment back into their designated places. The medic puttered around for another groon in this manner before finally sitting at his desk to work on reports, casting the occasional glare in his direction.
The jet sighed, wriggling down on the berth to lean his helm back against the wall and shutter his optics. Her helm slid down from where she had been positioned with her left finial pressed against his spark, and her engine began to whine, her claws scratching unconsciously against his armor. Skyquake frowned, glancing at Ratchet as if to ask what he had done to make her uncomfortable.
"Whatever you just did, stop." The medic snapped, "She'll wake early at this rate."
He racked his processors for a moment, then sat back up to how he had been positioned before. Still her little engine whined and she was starting to stir and moan now as well. Slag. The jet leaned back again, gently pulling her light frame onto his chest and pressing his lips to the top of her helm.
It never ceased to amaze him how small she was when she was unconscious. Somehow she seemed bigger when she was awake. Somehow, he always managed to forget that she only just came up to his waist. Now, all curled up like a cyberkitten, her entire frame fit on his torso, with just one of her pedes hanging off and rested on his forearm.
"Please rest, femme." He whispered in Daiz'pq'rion. His spark pulse sped up nervously, even though he knew there was no way the sleeping femme would hear him or remember, "I love you."
She moved just fractionally until he could feel her finial digging into his chest-plates just over his spark again, the sharp edge slightly uncomfortable on his armor. Skyquake was just about to move her again when he noticed that she had completely relaxed again and her engine was purring softly, her EM field warm and happy again.
He let out a soft vent and powered down his optics.
"When will you ask her, mech?"
He frowned at the medic's question, not moving from where he lay for fear of disturbing Terabyte's peace. "Ask her what?"
Ratchet scoffed at him, "To be your sparkmate, bolt-helm."
Skyquake bolted upright, engine spluttering before he fumbled to catch the femme before she fell from the berth, hugging her to his chest straight away, his spark pounding at the shock of both Ratchet's words and the fact that he nearly launched Terabyte helm-first to the floor.
"Sweet Cybertron," He strung out a few more choice phrases until his spark pulse calmed minutely and he convinced himself that the femme was still recharging. "Why in the name of Unicron would you ask something like that out of nowhere?!"
"Don't act like it isn't painfully obvious." Ratchet slammed his datapad onto the desk to wave a hand at the femme in his arms, "You look at her like she's the most precious thing in the universe."
He relaxed his grip on her, worried that he'd hurt her unintentionally. He wouldn't deny the medic. After all, wasn't she exactly that?
'Frag. I'm a sap.' He thought, glaring at Ratchet.
"Oh for the love of Primus, mech. You chose her over your split-sparked twin. Your spark has already claimed her and if that," The red and white ambulance gestured to the femme again, who'd snuggled back against his spark and magnetized herself to him, "isn't enough to tell you hers has done the same then you're more of a slag-brained fool than I thought."
Skyquake chuckled at the little femme now more or less glued to him. "She's completely unconscious, she'd be appalled."
Ratchet raised an optic ridge at him, smirking, "That makes my point even more doesn't it?"
The medic shook his helm, picking his datapad back up. "You're a split spark, Skyquake. You cut off your other half, and there will be consequences if you do not fill that gap. Your spark will not handle the strain of solitude."
He snarled at the near-threat, leaning back again with a sigh, "I would sooner let my spark fade than betray my friendship with Terabyte. I have waited for her to realize – in her own time – how I feel about her for vorns, and I will wait until the day I die."
"And if she never does?"
"Ratchet, this femme was a second-frame youngling when I met her. I fell in love with a fifteen-vorn old child." Skyquake's spark rolled uncomfortably in its chamber at the thought. "I didn't know at first, it was vorns too late when I learned, but if she doesn't realize on her own and feel the same way, she will be disgusted and rightfully so."
The medic looked at him with pity, teal optics soft as he looked back on his memories of watching the two together with a new understanding of the mech's deep respect for her, and his protectiveness of her.
"She was in an adult frame; you had no way of knowing."
"That doesn't change anything!"
He put a hand over her helm, stroking the crest of her helm tenderly, "She was a youngling, Ratchet."
Skyquake laughed, "She was worried I would look down on her once I knew her age, she was ashamed of it. Telling a seven-decavorn old mech that's fallen in love with her before she's even hit her second decavorn, and she was worried I wouldn't see her as an adult."
"She isn't a youngling anymore, Skyquake."
"She's still a third my age."
Ratchet huffed, "Our kind live for thousands of decavorns, what difference does a few thousand years make?"
He smiled sadly, looking down at the femme, "Perhaps you are right. But to force her to mature in the only realm in which she has managed to stay true to her age would place me beyond the reach of honor, and disrespect her in a way that is unforgiveable."
He loved her more than he could possibly put into words to explain to the medic. He would kill for this little femme, and he would put his weapons down for her just as quickly. He chose her over his own twin spark and would snuff his own spark if it would mean her safety.
For vorns, he had known she was the only femme he would ever consider bonding with. Ever since he met her twelve vorns ago she had never left his mind. She had gone through so much in her life, and he had done his best to keep her safe and to protect her innocence and give her the joys and silly little memories that a young life should be filled with.
She saw him as her dearest friend. He loved her too much to betray that by bringing in his own fantasy of a romance when she had no concept of it. That was something she needed to discover on her own.
"Primus." Ratchet muttered, getting up to run a few scans on Terabyte and monitor her vitals and sedation level. "Well I hope she discovers it on her own soon. For both your sakes."
The Brig
"It feels weird." Arcee remarked, one servo pressed against the glass-like casing.
Cliffjumper watched quietly as the femme tilted her helm, optics hovering over every micron of the triple-changing femme's sharp features. The violet triangles stretching from her optics to her cheeks were warped by the enraged expression frozen on her faceplates. Airachnid would be trapped in this stasis pod for who-knew-how-long. This pod was Insecticon biotech, and none of them knew how to operate it.
Not that she wanted the femme freed, he knew that. Airachnid had been Arcee's nemesis for vorns, the list of reasons why only growing longer every orn. He could tell exactly what the navy and pink two-wheeler was thinking: she deserved far worse than this, and Arcee would have gladly volunteered to dish out that justice. She would like to think of it as justice, even though she knew as well as he did that it would have been pure revenge.
This fate, frozen in an eternal limbo, was true justice though.
Arcee kicked the pod in frustration, turning to glare at him, "All these vorns wishing I could have her at my mercies, and this is how it ends? After everything she's done?"
Cliffjumper just smiled softly, his sky-blue optics sympathetic, "A bit anticlimactic isn't it."
"I would have killed her." Arcee crossed her arms and turned back to glowering at the frozen Decepticon. "She would have deserved it. If it weren't for her, Tailgate would still be here."
His spark clenched and he struggled to reign in the rumble of jealousy that tried to escape his engine. He swallowed his pride with a faint grimace that he knew she was too distracted to notice. The red mech placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently to let her know he was here for her.
Tailgate may no longer be here for her, but he was.
The femme leaned into his hand slightly before pulling away and punching the stasis pod as hard as she could. The ring of metal on glass echoed through the small brig cell, but the pod was unaffected.
"'Cee?" He asked, his voice almost a whisper. He knew that she didn't want him to talk, but he couldn't keep quiet, "'Cee, I think we-"
"I'm going to get some air." Arcee interrupted, her tone venomous as she swatted his hand away impatiently, "Don't follow me."
He opened his mouth, but bit down on his glossa, lowering his extended hand as she strode out. Her EM field was so tense it was sparking around her. Cliffjumper let out a vent. Maybe she needed space. Maybe he ought to listen to her and not follow. Of course, he knew where she would go, so he didn't need to follow. He could just go out to have a moment alone and 'accidentally' pick the same spot she would be in.
Arcee wasn't an idiot, she'd call him out on it straight away.
Then again, she was alone enough anyway, what she needed was a friend and confidante. She never knew what she needed when it came to matters of the spark. That's where he came in. It was thanks to him that she had finally begun to heal from her past partner's death. Jack was helping too, he supposed.
Cliffjumper sighed. She had loved the mech. Tailgate. It had been a few vorns since the mech had joined the Allspark, but she held onto this vendetta with no sign of letting it go. Airachnid's arrival on Earth only exacerbated everything and got in the way of Arcee moving on.
Revenge never helps.
The red mech started walking, keeping his pace slow to give the femme some time before he disturbed her peace. He would stop to get fuel for the both of them on the way, that could take up some time. He wasn't totally insensitive: she wanted him to give her space and he would. Just not for the whole night.
She didn't need his words. She definitely wouldn't want his jokes or a distraction right now. There were times where being an aft and keeping her processor off of things helped, but sometimes it was better to just be there for her. And that was what he would do.
He stalled for a couple breems, then opened the door to the outlook where he knew she would be.
Sure enough, her slim silhouette sat facing the fading dregs of what must have been a beautiful sunset. Only a thin slice of orangey red sky sat on the horizon now, the moon and stars twinkling faintly in the indigo blanket overhead.
"How was the sunset?" He asked cheerily, plopping down beside her with a grin, pushing a cube of Energon into her hands, "Brought dinner."
Arcee turned to look at him, coolant in her optics glittering in the twilight. Brushing her face roughly, the femme tried to offer him a smile before setting the glowing cube aside with a sigh.
"Cliff' I…" The femme looked down at her hands, as though she could somehow find the words in their grasp. She sighed again, frustration and static audible in the exvent.
He shook his helm, setting his own Energon aside and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him without prompting, pillowing her helm on his chest-plates and turning her gaze back to the receding line of light on the horizon. He could feel the coolant dripping from her optics onto his plating and held her closer, shifting to make himself a more comfortable pillow.
After a while Arcee whispered, "The sunset was beautiful."