Looking down at Blaster's immobile frame on a Repair Bay's berth, optics black and face relaxed, Spike muses once more about his new information on Cybertronian culture.
Ironhide, holding the quiet human on a servo, shifts softly, a gesture showing how uncomfortable he feels, but doesn't try to ask what happened with the Decepticons again.
"Spike, are you—?"
"Is Blaster alright?!"
"Wha—"
"Blaster! He's back at the Ark! Is he alright?!"
"Whoa kid, calm down. What happened with those 'Cons?"
"That's not important! I need to see Blaster!"
The Weapons Specialist had stared at the snarling human with open surprise, before transforming and driving away from the oilfield as fast as he could, the teenager squeezing the steering wheel in his anxiety.
Wincing at the memory, the boy looks up at the red mech.
After all that had happened in that cave, the first thing that had come to his mind when he'd seen an Autobot hadn't been the battle they'd been involved in, but Starscream's words.
"We can all sense them, though they're usually nothing more than bursts of statics through open comm lines. But mechs specialized in Communications, the whole of the Cassette Carrier frame type, built for that…"
Blaster hadn't accompanied them to fight the Decepticons, and the Seeker had said they could scramble the signal if they were in their ship, but…
"I'm sorry about before, Ironhide. It's just… Starscream said that what was going on with Soundwave also happened to other Cassette Carriers, and I got worried." He finally explains, bowing his head and looking at the eerily quiet red and yellow mech on the berth.
"S'alright, kid. But I'd like to know what that no good 'Con told you. The last thing we want is for you to get bad data, and we both know the 'Cons have used your lack of knowledge before." He answers with a small grimace.
Spike can only turn to the Weapons Specialist before approaching footsteps grab their attention.
Ratchet and Perceptor approach them, the first calm and the second looking more relaxed and far more relieved than when they found him nervously pacing in the Repair Bay after a slightly panicking Trailbreaker, who had been waiting for them at the Ark's entrance, directed them there.
Ratchet, who had glued himself to Ironhide's side as soon as the van sped away from the battlefield, had given the stasis-locked mech on the berth a quick but thorough scan before pulling the nervous scientist away for a talk.
"So?" The Weapons Specialist asks without his usual gruffness, and the Medic gives them a small sad smile.
"He's fine. Perceptor managed to sedate him before he could hurt himself." He explains, the microscope looking away both embarrassed and guilty. "Or anymech else. I'll have to talk to Trailbreaker later. Apparently, he had to restrain him in a force field before they could shut him down." The boy winces and rubs his arms as shivers rack his frame, getting an idea as to why would Blaster turn crazy and start blasting anything that moved.
"One whole vorn of having nothing but torsos, or arms, or even decapitated helms drag themselves to any living creature they first sensed."
"Spike?" The white and red mech calls, worry in his voice as a dactyl presses softly under his chin so that he's staring into slightly paler than usual blue optics. "Are you alright?"
"Kid, what did those Decepticons tell you?" Ironhide finally asks again, and, this time, the boy just sighs tiredly before pushing away a new shiver and straighten.
"Starscream explained what your ghosts are like." He answers, firm voice slowly weakening as the memory surfaces again, of a whimpering Soundwave trying to comfort those long gone and that had been condemned from the very start.
He can't keep his body from shaking as a wave of nausea fills him.
"—when I catch that slagging traitorous pile of scrap I'm going to force-feed him his own voice box! How the Pit did he mangle the truth this time to—"
"I don't think he was lying." The teenager interrupts firmly, a small glare directed at the incensed Autobot. "Unless your ghosts aren't transmissions or even pieces of a mech's self that are rebounded to others. He said that once a message is sent, it can't be erased, and that you can all hear it as static, but that those like Soundwave and Blaster… they can even be possessed." His eyes have turned to the immobile mech on the berth, but he doesn't need to look up to know the Seeker wasn't lying.
The silence is more than enough answer.
"Did he say anything else?" Ratchet asks softly, and a small humorless smile slowly grows on Spike's lips.
"He also explained about the Body-Snatchers. Those that drink Cybertronian dry of Energon, and those that eat their metal… and he told me what this specific ghost is." The servo he's standing on tenses, and he can hear the slightest of grinding as the Autobots stiffen. "He said it's the messages sent by the Decepticons that were trapped in Simfur when the Plague spread."
"Oh Primus…" Finally looking up at the others, the teenager doesn't feel surprised to see the Medic's optics so pale that they're almost white, a hand cradling his helm, while Perceptor seems to have shrunk, so tightly is his armor pressed against his struts.
Ironhide's systems go silent for almost a full whole minute, faceplate slack with horror and disbelief.
"I understand why Blaster reacted the way he did then." The scientist whispers, shaking himself back to some semblance of calm with a loud clanking of his armor, optics rebooting a couple of times as they slowly darken to their usual shade. "Did Soundwave attack you too?"
"No. Starscream said that he'd gone through that once already, and that, deep inside, he knew it wasn't actually happening. But…" He looks away once more, lips pressed into a tight line as he once more embraces himself. "I didn't understand a thing because he was speaking in Cybertronian, but Starscream said he was trying to calm and reassure the… the ones who sent the message." All Autobots wince, Perceptor flinching back while Ratchet's plating fluffs out almost menacingly.
"Well, slaggit. I'm not going to be able to shoot at Soundwave in a long while." Ironhide grumbles, though without the usual darkness or eagerness in his tone when talking about Decepticons and fighting.
"If what Starscream said is true. Whoever… well done, Perceptor. Blaster definitely didn't need to go through that. Functioning through such an experience once was enough without having to hear those poor Unicron toys."
"Unicron toys?" He repeats, trying to change the topic, though unsure if that new one will be much better.
"A manner of speech to refer to those fated with horror and pain." The scientist explains softly, far more calm than before. "I think you call them 'poor devils'."
"Ah." He lets out with a soft grimace, easily agreeing with Ratchet's words after that. "Yeah, I get it now."
"Why did they catch you this time?" The Medic asks almost nonchalantly as he scans the stasis-locked mech once more.
"I was too close to Soundwave when he… well." Both Ironhide and Ratchet nod, not needing more.
"The sonic burst."
"Yeah."
"Was that all?" The white and red mech asks after the quick check up, turning to the human and looking him up and down with piercing optics, scanning him for injuries.
About to give a negative, the teenager finds himself freezing, mouth still open.
After seeing what two simple words did, does he really want to know their meaning?
"Spike?"
No going back now.
"When Soundwave came back to himself, Starscream told him he'd been telling me horror stories while we waited."
"Afraid those aren't horror stories, kid. Simfur was unfortunately all too real." Ironhide cuts in the instant the boy's resolve to speak wavers, probably assuming he wanted to confirm the truth of what he was told.
"No, it's not that. It's that… when Soundwave heard that, he asked… well, he kind of asked what kind of horror stories I'd been told about."
"Kind of?" Perceptor repeats, looking curious, though slightly apprehensive, judging by the way his armor is not completely in its place, still held close.
"He started a list. And I say 'started' because he only managed three things before Starscream cut him off." Having to take a deep breath, and all too aware of the optics on him, Spike holds three fingers up before starting to pull them down with each term. "Ghosts. Body-Snatchers. Spark Eaters."
The three Autobots shiver at that, plating once more close to the struts, though Ironhide's engines are softly rumbling in anger.
Whether it is to hide the fear easily seen in the way the Medic and scientist are holding themselves, is something only the Weapons Specialist himself knows.
However, it is a simple reaction when compared to when he told them of Simfur, and more so when he thinks back to the Decepticon Second in Command.
"You're… pretty calm." He finds himself saying as he watches them, one by one.
"Calm? Kid, Spark Eaters are a pretty serious deal." The red mech reproaches with a glare, and the boy quickly lifts up his hands as if to ward off his annoyance.
"No, it's not that they aren't, it's just… remember I said Soundwave didn't say more because Starscream cut him off?" They all nod, the adopted human gesture having become quite common due to its usefulness. "Well, he didn't… tell him to shut up. He panicked." He makes sure to put special emphasis in that last word, gaze serious as he watches the three startled Autobots. "He jumped, folded his wings back, and looked the most terrified I've ever seen any of you." He adds for good measure, and, rebooting pale blue optics, Ironhide and Ratchet exchange a look.
"Terrified." The Weapons Specialist repeats, voice emotionless, as he tries to make sense of it. "Starscream, whom we've seen cowering at Megatron's pedes and begging for mercy."
"Yeah. Get why I thought you were pretty calm?" He only receives nods once again, but knows his message has come across. "I believe you when you say they're a big deal, more so after knowing… well, after being told zombies are real for you guys. But… are Spark Eaters that bad to make Starscream panic?"
"Spark Eaters… they're an abnormality, even among everything else." Perceptor answers instead, more calm than before and looking pensive. "There are a lot of virus that can infect us, but, despite the spark having coding too, all of them attack the processor. All but one." And when his optics meet the teenager's eyes, he can only grimace as he realizes what the scientist is going to say. "The Spark Eater virus is the only known one able to keep its integrity in such a highly energetic environment, to the point it thrives in it. It replaces a mech's essential coding with copies of itself, which leads to the infected slowly turning into a processor-less entity bent into acquiring more energy to support the virus. Meaning, more sparks."
"What's really bad about Spark Eaters when compared to Body-Snatchers is that they don't take hold of the body. Those creatures that inhabit a Cybertronian's frame can make it move, to an extent, but they can't use neither energy weapons nor transformation, and, due to them being completely out of the host's systems, they move slowly and uncoordinatedly, like those 'zombies' from your cinematographic films." Ratchet adds, voice calm yet dark as his optics stare down at the human with a chilling seriousness. "Spark Eaters have no such restrictions, for their commanding center is the mech's own being. They're as invulnerable to pain and need to recharge as Body-Snatchers, but they're as fast as the host body was, and able to utilize some of its ingrained features."
"They can't transform nor use firearms, since that's too big a drain on their borrowed systems, but they… create some new ones." Ironhide pipes in, scowling as he glares at a wall, the dactyls of the servo the boy is on curling slightly inwards. "Claws, for starters, and any kind of blade or blunt weapon is as effective in their hold as it was to their original owner. Plus, some of them, according to legend, can make bladed tails out of their own Energon lines and converters, since they can't really refine Energon. That's why they hunt sparks and… even that is kind of weird. I don't know how, but Spark Eater victims always have their torsos ripped open from the inside." And he gives an almost nonchalant look to the other two mechs, who shake their helms in answer to the unasked question.
"The Senate was rumored to have a specially trained unit, some kind of Black Ops, that dealt only with them, but you'll have to ask Prowl or Jazz about that. Maybe even Optimus, but he didn't really deal with politics before the war started." Ratchet continues, far calmer than before as he once more scans Blaster, as if distracting himself from such dark thoughts.
"They were never common enough to be more than a legend, at most, and when an attack did happen, things were usually covered up as something else." The red mech adds, shrugging in the Cybertronian way of shifting plating as his dactyls relax their clawed positions. "You have something like that… the Busyman?"
"Boogeyman." The boy corrects with a snort, though he finds himself frowning almost immediately. "Didn't sound like that to Starscream though…"
"Maybe he actually dealt with one?" Perceptor suggests, and dumbstruck expressions appear on the other two mechs. "According to your description, he was fairly affected by their simple mention. Such a reaction wouldn't be brought about by knowledge of the legends, or even of an attack. Witnessing such a thing, on the other servo…" And he leaves it at that, and Spike feels Ironhide shiver almost imperceptibly.
"Won't be able to shoot at him in a while?" The boy asks half-mockingly, but the Weapons Specialist easily answers with a scowl.
"Nah, Starscream's too infuriating not to shoot at him."
"You know, I think our guest will be safely secured by now. I should visit." Ratchet muses out loud, not at all sounding innocent, as he walks past the red mech and easily snatches the human from his servo, making him squeak in surprise before he's allowed to sit down when the dactyls open. "Keep an optic on Blaster for me, will you, Perceptor?"
"Worry not, I will do so." Is the last they hear as the Medic calmly walks out of the Repair Bay.
"Guest?" The teenager repeats, curious, looking up at the calm mech carrying him.
"Prime just called to let me know they have our prisoner all nicely set up in the brig. I made sure his weapons and comm were off before Ironhide told me to come with him to the Ark, but a more thorough scan won't hurt."
"You managed to capture a Decepticon?" Surprised, the white and red mech finally looks down, before allowing a rueful smile on his face.
"Guess Ironhide didn't get to tell you. Yes, the twins banged Thundercracker up so badly that we snatched him before he could fly away. I think Prime's trying to buy some Space Bridge use in exchange for his safe return, but that doesn't mean we can't ask some innocent questions, can we?" He adds, an almost malicious smirk on his faceplate that makes the boy chuckle.
"So that's why you fished me out of Ironhide's grip!"
"Oh? He's a body of water now?"
They both laugh loudly at that, scaring poor Cliffjumper at the sound as they walk past him at an intersection, his curious gaze following them until they round the corner that will take them to the brig.
"Iron Lake, only human fishing allowed." The teenager snickers, the Medic once more calm enough that he just shakes his helm.
"More like a rapids' river, with that temper of his. Well, here we are." He answers calmly, opening the last door and almost slamming into Jazz, who gives them a jaunty salute before sauntering past them and out.
"Ah, Ratchet. Thank you for coming so quickly. How is Blaster?" Prime asks, turning to them with his usual calm, and, after leaving Spike on the floor, he steps closer to his leader to speak without being overheard by the white and blue mech staring at them from the other side of the energy bars.
Deciding to take his chance, the teenager approaches calmly to observe their prisoner.
Thundercracker is pretty banged up, the tip of the right wing bent slightly backwards and dents, scraps and scorched marks all over his frame, along lots of dirt, but he's online and his optics shine as brightly as ever, as shown when he glares at the human.
Though he doesn't say anything at being stared up by the boy, so he decides to take it as an invitation to speak.
"Uh, hi." No answer. "I have some questions, and I wondered if you could answer them." The Decepticon sneers a bit at that, orangish optics darkening, but the boy decides to press onwards, since he hasn't outright been told 'no'. "Starscream explained about Ghosts and Body-Snatchers, and it got me thinking… has he met any actual Spark Eater?"
Thundercracker straightens with a jerk and a chocked noise, surprise and disbelief on his faceplate that get replaced by a pained grimace as his back slams against the wall.
"How the Pit did you manage to get that out of him?! He'd never—!" His rant is cut as his optics pale, a servo quickly covering his mouth.
"So he has." The boy whispers in horrified awe, the last piece clicking in place.
Starscream has seen what is essentially a demonic-possessed and mutated individual that devours souls by making their victim's chest be ripped open from the inside.
… No wonder he looked so utterly terrified.
"Spike?" Ratchet calls, worry and suspicion in his voice, and the teenager quickly whirls around with a dumbstruck and wary expression.
"Starscream did meet a Spark Eater." He answers simply, and Optimus' optics flash almost white in surprise, his armor pressing against his struts as the Medic scowls with a soft shiver.
"Well, that would explain things."
"Explain what?" Thundercracker snarls, and, suddenly too aware of how close he is to the prison bars, the human steps away, gaze once more on the seething Decepticon.
"As I'm sure you know, both him and Soundwave have taken to explaining things to Spike. Apparently, when Spark Eaters came up in a conversation, he reacted… exaggeratedly. Pressing his wings down against his back and looking completely terrified, I believe was the description." The white and red mech answers, and the prisoner hisses menacingly, optics darkening yet still bright.
"Yeah, right. As if I'd believe you."
"That's what I saw." The boy interrupts softly, confused by the Seeker's reaction. "He looked as if there was one of them in the cave instead of just their name coming up." And, more thoughtful than angered, Thundercracker relaxes against the wall.
"What were you talking about?"
"Ghosts, Body-Snatchers and Simfur." And the Seeker groans, burying his faceplate in his servos.
"Yes, that would definitely bring that up." His voice is muffled, but still easily understandable from where the teenager is standing, and, curious, he steps a bit closer to the bars once more.
"That?" Whole frame stiffening, it takes the Flier a bit to look up, but, when he does, the human quickly hurries away from grabbing range.
Because he'll eat his own shoes if that on Thundercracker's face isn't a sharp dark smirk worthy of his Trineleader.
"You know, once the war started, all sides became too worried about each other to pay attention to everyday issues, but that doesn't mean they didn't happen every now and then. That's why there was a Plague of Body-Snatchers of Simfur, why there was a Wave of Wraiths. That was why Spark Eaters kept popping up." And his smirk widens, deranged glee in his words that only make the boy pale and step further away. "And someone had to take care of them. We allied with the Autobots to take care of Simfur, we developed harsher and more efficient firewalls and scramblers to deal and prevent more Wraiths. That's why any and all appearances, or even rumors, about Spark Eaters were immediately reported to Starscream." Gaping like a fish, Spike finds himself sitting on his backside as the wicked smirk sharply becomes a freezing and utterly serious glare. "That's why Megatron keeps him as his Second and why no one's managed to ever get him down from that post. And there have been more than a couple of attempts to permanently remove him, I assure you."
"Starscream has dealt with Spark Eaters?" One of the Autobots, he's still too scared stiff to recognize who, asks, and that petrifying gaze finally moves away from the human.
"He's fast, and a Flier, and his weapon of choice are null-rays. Of course he did. One single well-placed shot, and the monsters' sparks practically extinguished themselves. Why do you think Megatron doesn't object to those non-lethal weapons?" The smirk is there once more, and the boy gulps loudly, attracting it again. "They are lethal."
"If he's so capable, why was he as terrified as Spike described?"
Dark orangish optics darken even more as Thundercracker curls into himself, pressing against the wall without a care for his light injuries.
"One single well-placed shot." He repeats before his optics go black, head against his chest behind the arms he's rested on his raised knees, too close to the body to give a nonchalant appearance instead of a scared one. "And sometimes that wasn't enough." He adds in a whisper, and, shaking hard, Spike almost cries out when something grabs him and lifts him up.
When he finds himself staring into Prime's concerned optics, he finds the tight grip fear had on his body give up, allowing him to turn to a puddle of trembling human kneeling on the mech's servo.
He can hear Ratchet say something in Cybertronian before the truck starts moving, a warm dactyl caressing the boy's back to help him relax as they walk through the corridors.
"I—I'm better now." He finally manages as they enter the bridge, Prowl giving them a calculating look while Jazz cocks his head curiously. "Thanks."
"No need to thank me, Spike. But remember, Thundercracker may not have been truthful. In fact, I believe he was manipulating you once again, so try not to take his words seriously." The Prime answers calmly as he lets the teenager step down onto Teletraan's controls. "Now, why did you need me here, Prowl?"
"Megatron wants to speak with you." The SIC explains and, with a simple nod from his leader, he clicks something that makes the Decepticon bridge appear on the screen in front of them.
"Ah, Prime. Finally you decide to grace us with your presence." The gray mech sneers from his throne, both Starscream and Soundwave standing at his sides, the Seeker wearing a 'why did I ever decide following this moron was a good idea' look. "I believe you have something of mine. State your price."
"I have a question." The human blurts out, two pairs of red optics and one visor suddenly jerking to the bottom of the screen, as if they hadn't noticed he was there before.
"Spike, what are you—?"
"Why are you afraid of Spark Eaters?"
And Megatron bristles, leaning forward menacingly as he clenches the armrests to the point they bend, but Soundwave tilts his helm just enough to look at the suddenly stiff Second in Command, now amber optics not meeting the pale red visor.
"Afraid?" The Decepticon leader hisses, voice quickly rising to its usual thundering tone. "Now, look here, flesh-bag. I'm not afraid of anything, least of all some stupid legend—"
"So you never had to face any during the war?" He cuts, and the gray mech scoffs angrily, but the Communications Officer's visor softly changes to a curious orange as the Seeker stays completely immobile and tense.
"As I said, legends. Spark Eaters are but another lie of the Senate to keep us under control." The Warlord sneers, straightening in his seat and finally noticing his top officers' behavior. "And what are you two doing?"
Soundwave quickly snaps at attention, though Starscream almost jumps out of his armor before facing his leader once more.
Both stay silent, optics and visor rebooting a couple of times before they go back to their usual red.
"Well?"
"Nothing. Just startled at the fleshling's insolence." The Seeker manages, easily recovering his haughty attitude, but none of the other two look fooled by his slightly stuttered answer.
"You wouldn't happen to be scared of Spark Eaters, would you, Starscream?" The gray mech asks with a growing mocking smirk, having completely forgotten the open communications line, apparently.
"Of course not! Legends and wild stories made up by overcharged idiots. That's all that they are." The Flier scoffs, straightening to look down at his leader.
"You'd better not be getting any ideas from those wild stories or—" Whatever Megatron was going to say it's cut by the Seeker moving, the only warning being the white flash of Soundwave's visor.
Too fast for Spike's eyes to follow, he only catches a blur of white and red and blue being thrown to the floor of the Decepticon's brig, the shrieking and clanging of metal almost deafening him as a flash of sparkly pink makes the boy's eyes go to the gray mech—
And his mouth falls open when he sees deep puncture marks on Megatron's shoulder quickly overflowing with Energon, a black servo immediately clasping them as the Warlord stands to fall into a ready defensive position, more Energon bathing his opposite side and thigh from unseen wounds.
"I would never deal with anything related to those monsters!" Starscream shrieks from where he's kneeling on the floor, wings perched high on his back and completely facing the throne in an impressive intimidating display, even though his back is to the screen. "Don't you ever dare even joke about such a connection!"
After a second of silence, in which Soundwave doesn't even twitch from where he's hunched behind his leader, visor almost yellow in surprise and slight fear, Megatron's optics slowly pale as realization dawns on him.
"You do believe in them. And you fear them."
"Don't you dare assume what you're talking about. You know nothing! There's no stopping those things, no restraining or subduing or even hoping! They can feel you, track you down, ambush from the most unlike of spots and devour your spark without even touching you, without even getting close enough to do so! It's only destruction and pain and if I hadn't closed the Trine bond Thundercracker and Skywarp wouldn't—"
Starscream's voice goes silent so suddenly that Spike's ears ring.
Slowly, red-marked white wings fall onto the Seeker's back, shaking visibly, as the mech shirks into himself.
That brings Megatron's attention to the still open connection and the dumbfounded expression on his faceplate becomes irate as his optics turn almost white.
He slams a fist on one of his throne's armrests and the screen goes black.
"Nickel, iron, cobalt, chrome. He'll eat your soul, turn your spark to stone." Jazz whispers, voice strangely melodic and words rhythmic, but Spike doesn't dare turn around. "Nickel, iron, cobalt, chrome. Run, little mechling, run away home."
AN: First of all, to all those that commented about last chapter being a good Halloween chapter, I have to admit I hadn't even realized the date, but I've got to agree. I hope this one works as a Halloween chapter too.
Second, the title is one of the names Spark Eaters are given in IDW's More than Meets the Eye, from which are also Jazz's last words.