Orion had forgotten what it felt like to be so physically and emotionally drained.
As he cautiously stood, letting his weight settle evenly upon his peds, he was surprised—and dismayed—to find that he felt so beaten. It was as if every gear, joint, panel and mechanism within his frame protested his every step. He could only assume it was because of the chemicals Ratchet had introduced into his system that made his body rebel in such a way, just as he hoped that with time, he could burn the effects away with activity.
Careful, especially with Miko so near, he performed a quick systems check, finding the recent repairs done to his shoulder. Tenderly he lifted a hand, digits exploring the newly forged patch; it was still painful, the damage to his energon line still fresh, delicate. It wouldn't take much to tear it open anew, so he would have to be cautious. Otherwise he felt solid, sound, stable; or at the very least, wouldn't let himself feel, presume to be anything les than solid, sound and stable. He couldn't, not if he hoped to help Arcee.
Nervous now, Miko had slipped ahead, peering into the hallway. Though the stone was dark and still beyond, she found her heart kicking against her ribs in trepidation. She couldn't quite believe what was elapsing around her, reality turned surreal as the full situation dawned upon her: here she was, creeping about the Autobot base, fearing the appearance of Ratchet, of Bulkhead, of Bumblebee even of Jack or Raf, and all to help Optimus escape.
How had it all come to this? How?
She gave herself a quick mental shake; there was no time to dwell on such matters, not now anyways. After all it was to help Arcee, to save her, to protect her. At the least, that was the mantra that Miko had to repeat to herself, over and over, as she crept around the corner, scouting ahead, testing, trying pathways. She had meant it when she told Optimus—no, Orion—that she knew the Autobots, and more importantly knew their base, better than most. What else was she supposed to do but wander the complex when she wanted to avoid Ratchet handing her chores? That was how she had discovered each and every possible way in and out of the base.
That the bots probably knew of these exits and entrances didn't even occur to her as anything other than a certainty; but what she hoped for, what their only chance of success depended upon, was her selecting an exit that was the closest to their position and one that the other bots would least expect them to take.
Miko winced as the thunder of Orion's steps followed her down another empty corridor; it set her already singing nerves on a further edge. "Can't you be…well, quieter? If you keep stomping around, they're sure to hear us!" She hissed, then froze as she realized who she had just chastised.
Matrix of Leadership and memories or not, she still had just mouthed off at Optimus. But rather than reprimand her, Orion merely nodded gravely, and surprisingly did manage to some how step lighter, not daring to verbally reply. Even uttering the briefest of syllables with his distinctive timber would resound throughout the halls and bring the bots running. Another pang of sorrow trickled through Miko as she darted down the walkway; these were his halls, his base, his Autobots…and yet, somehow, he had been reduced to cowering through them, running away from it all, from them.
Turning down a final, dimmed corridor, it was with great relief that Miko caught sight of a heavily armored door. Solid and daunting, its thick metal supports had no doubt been constructed to endure direct fire from heavy artillery without manifesting detrimental damage. From the outside, it would have been nigh impenetrable—but from within, one had only to lift the stately latch and swing it open to the outside world, to the night and open spaces beyond.
"There!" she whispered, and obediently he lengthened his stride, seeing before him at last a path that he could be sure of. Behind the door was freedom, was a road that he could take to uphold his most fundamental of programming.
To defend…to protect…
Behind that door was a world of possibility, was a world in which he could search for the Autobot Arcee. It was where, Primus permitting, he would find her, and bring her not just home, but maybe even bring peace back as well. Decided, he prepared to grip the heavy latch, prepared to set the entire strength of his frame against the door and fight it open.
"Wait!" Miko hissed as she darted forward, placing her palm against the dark metal of the door, "As soon as you start to open that, its going to make a ton of noise, and its going to bring the Autobots running."
Understanding he nodded, "That is why I will have to be quick." He answered in as much of a whisper as he could manage. But Miko shook her head, striving for another point.
"No, I want to be clear about our deal—"
Orion narrowed his optics, "Miko, we have already agreed upon our terms, you have my word that I will do everything in my power to return Arcee and when I have done so, I will accompany her back here…I will come back."
"Yeah, that's all fine and dandy, but I forgot to mention the other half of my terms…" She risked a glance behind her as her pulse quickened, she didn't want to linger out here much longer. Already she could feel the minutes pulling past her, it was some sort of miracle already that the Autobots hadn't started looking for her yet. "Wherever you go…I'm going with you, someone has to make sure that Megatron doesn't try to pull a fast one on you."
"Miko, no—"
"Hey, no time to argue Boss Bot—"
There, slowly but surely, Miko and Orion heard it; the sound of voices rising through the tunnels, of heavy footfalls steadily drumming into a crescendo.
"Oh scrap! Times up Boss Bot! Haul that thing open!"
Orion wasn't going to argue, and without any further hesitation, lifted the latch upwards with great force, throwing his frame against the door and working it step, by painful step open. Years of disuse and the sheer monumental weight of the door itself made it no simple task.
"Hurry, hurry, hurry!" Miko chanted, wanting to help but held back by the fear of getting caught underfoot.
"Miko!" Bulkhead's voice—tight with fear—echoed towards them.
One step…
Two…
Three…
With a sigh, a shudder, the door gave way, at last yielding enough space for Orion to just fit through.
"Orion!" Miko yelled up at him, scrambling after, "You can't just leave me!"
"Miko!" Bulkhead moved as fast as his great frame could carry him, closer and closer to the hallway where both Miko and Orion lingered, hovering just upon the threshold of freedom.
"Miko, I cannot take you with me, it is too dangerous!" Orion froze, halfway through the door, looking down upon her, "I thank you for everything, for all that you've—"
"I have to go with you!" Miko wouldn't give in, wouldn't give up, "Someone has to protect you from yourself! Someone has to be there so that you can remember!"
That gave him pause, made him hesitate. But already they had remained for too long, for just then Bulkhead rounded the corner, optics taking in the dreaded scene unfolding before him, Ratchet and Bumblebee at his heels, "Miko! Get away from him!" His optics locked in upon Orion even as his weapons did, "Don't you touch her!" He thundered with the promise of an unspoken threat.
Miko turned, sending one last sad smile over her shoulder for Bulkhead, "I'm sorry Bulk!" She cried. Scarcely had the last syllable left her lips, before Miko ran forward reaching wildly toward Orion even as he extend one powerful arm and scooped her up.
"Trust me, I will keep you safe." His voice was soothing, close, as in one fluid motion he freed himself from the confines of the doorway and faced the waiting night beyond, "I will protect you…" he promised her, his optics darting to Bulkhead's fast approaching form before he turned and leapt forward, "Trust me as I trust you…"
So much unfolded within the space of the moment.
Miko's world went black as Orion seemingly shattered apart, folding in on himself, transforming into his terrestrial guise, keeping her sheltered in the eye of the storm of flying metal gears and bits, of shifting panels and plates as they realigned upon impossible seams. It was breathtaking. Sure, Bulkhead had transformed around her before, had held her in his palm as he slid from one form into the next. But Bulkhead's transformation was nothing like Orion's, nothing as fluid, as graceful, as grand as Orion's. Even as his tires hit the hard packed earth with a jolt, as he drove himself hard to put distance between himself and the Autobots, Miko closed her eyes, balanced upon his driver's seat. She felt secure, safe; she felt, above all else, that what she was doing, the choice she had made, was irrefutably right. Orion would need her before the end.
But as the release of relief took Miko, Bulkhead's world came to a crashing end. His spark nearly burst as he had watched Orion turn and scoop Miko up. He had taken her, had taken his Miko!
Beside him he felt the heat of Bumblebee's plasma cannons, and through the pain of losing her, he turned, tackling the yellow scout to the ground with the shout of, "No! No! No! Don't shoot! He has her! He took her!" Within the next movement, he flung Bumblebee away from him, flung him forward, towards the yawning door. "Move your aft, Bee! After him! You have to catch him! Catch him!" The incessant need to get Miko back, bring her back, bring her back, tore at his spark, would leave him no peace, made him blind to all else.
That was when Ratchet grabbed him, calling out to both him and Bee, "You can't…even you Bumblebee…you don't stand a chance against him…you won't catch him…"
Bereft, Bulkhead sank to his knees, refusing to move as the brutality of it all beat upon his processor. The moment was etched in all of its awful glory into his memory, as he recalled over and over, Miko's last few moments. Of how she had turned to him, had given him a last smile. Her lips had formed words his audio receptors had no hope of hearing. But his processor latched onto the image, replayed it over and over, he wanted, he needed her last words. And yet, when they came to him, they made him shudder.
I'm sorry, Bulk…
I'm sorry, Bulk…
…sorry, Bulk…
It hit him then.
I'm sorry, Bulk…
Her apology… her last smile for him…
"Primus…"he gasped, looking up to Ratchet, "She planned it! She helped him! She wanted to go with him!" Disbelieving his optics darted between Bee and Ratchet, "Oh Primus…" he moaned, "Primus…why?"
Again, and again the memory pounded at him as he knelt there, unhearing of Ratchet's empty words, of Bee's hollow clicks and chirps. Bulkhead kept at the moment, kept looking, searching for the reason why. Slowly, with great reluctance, Orion's words came to him too. Not nearly as difficult to unearth as Miko's, after all it was impossible to mistake that velvet voice.
Trust me, I will keep you safe…
…I will protect you…
…Trust me as I trust you…
Those eyes, those deep, far seeing cerulean optics had looked up, had found Bulkhead for the most fleeting of nanoclicks.
…Trust me as I trust you…
Bulkhead's spark clenched, the energon within his veins nearly froze.
…Trust me as I trust you…
That hadn't been Orion. Hope blossomed, solidifying into certainty. That hadn't been Orion. Not with that look, not with those words, not with that deep intonation.
No, even as Bulkhead had shouted against him, had screamed for Miko to get away, even as he had hardened his spark against Orion, threatening him, it hadn't been at Orion. For amid that chaos, in that one moment, Bulkhead had looked upon the red and blue mech…and a Prime had looked back.
Trust me as I trust you…
Bulkhead shuttered his optics tightly closed, "Primus help them…"
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Please R&R! (Orion would ;) )