"Pearl Harbor" soundtrack
Author's note: This chapter happens simultaneously with Crystal Shekeira's "28 Solarflares II - #3 Anger." I have her permission to write my story coinciding with hers. :-) She also helped me a bit with some of the dialogue. Hopefully this'll be the last "uber-angsty" chapter…things should pick up a bit next. Oh, and kudos to those of you who can guess who's "waiting in the wings" as it were. -winks- I'm giving you a few choices, and a few more later!
As always, I appreciate the comments and constructive criticism. Thank you!
It was a long struggle, a long, painful journey back. She couldn't quite grasp the randomly shifting thoughts, the fading impressions that slipped from her seeking mind. Sound impinged on her awareness, and she focused all her remaining will on the murmuring ripple. The low voice she heard was like an anchor and line, providing a solid path back to reality. Dazed, Flamestrike felt numbly detached from her surroundings as her optic receptors brightened and steadied, lighting on a familiar face not three feet from her. The emerald flickering of her optics finally settled into a steady green glow, darker than just a few months before with shadows from within. The murmuring voice broke off in surprise, but her awareness remained in this time, this reality. The green mech turned his head, breaking her fixed gaze.
"Solarflare, I think she's waking up!" Hound turned back to face her, looking intently into her optics. "Flamestrike, are you awake?" A second form in monochrome grey and black pushed into her line of sight, worried relief etched into the lighter facial planes.
Flamestrike regarded her two friends for a moment. Solarflare's crest twitched slightly and Flamestrike found herself momentarily distracted by the movement. The question Hound asked was a simple one, yet it seemed to take an enormous amount of effort to concentrate long enough to reply. Her voice seemed to bubble up from deep within her circuits, the answer sounding flat and monotone to her audios. "Yes. Where am I?"
Twin sighs of relief answered her query. Hound squeezed her hand, which Flamestrike had just realized he was holding, and must have been holding prior to her waking up. She stared at her hand in his, not quite able to form a coherent thought. Hound lightly placed her hand back on her stomach plating and rose. "You're in the medbay of Autobot City. I'll let Solarflare fill you in on the rest. Skyfire will want to know you're awake so he can bring your recharge flow back to normal." He stood up from the stool he had placed next to her berth and stepped back, giving her lax foot a pat before turning to head out the swinging double-doors of the recharge bay.
Solarflare glided over to Hound's vacated perch and settled herself, wings flicking up and back out of the way. The grey femme sat still for a moment, lost in thought. She leaned forward and laid one taloned hand on Flamestrike's armored forearm. Solarflare explained, speaking in a low voiced filled with combination grief-anger. "Flame ... there's no easy way to say this..." Flare paused, the taloned hand on her friend's arm trembling. "Prime's gone."
Flamestrike stared numbly at Solarflare. "No..."
But Solarflare wasn't finished. "A mech named Hot Rod was given the Matrix."
Hot Rod. The name was vaguely familiar to Flamestrike. A memory sifted up into her main cortex, a hazy scene recalling the similarities in color of the two Autobots – flame and red versus flame and brown. Her mental wisp recalled not particularly liking this brash newcomer…then the thought faded back into her cortexal recesses, replaced with a numb acceptance of Solarflare's words.
"They're calling him 'Rodimus Prime'…"
o0o
Skyfire arrived shortly after Solarflare completed her update. He adjusted the energy flow to Flamestrike's med-berth explaining to his dazed patient that she had been in stasis-lock and had a bad reaction recovering. "The humans call it 'drugged up' so don't be surprised if you're having trouble focusing. Get a good recharge tonight and you'll feel better tomorrow, just in time." His voice dropped on the last three words.
"In time for what?" Flamestrike canted her head listlessly to look up at the very large Valkyrie.
"Tomorrow is the official memorial for those lost in the battle for the City." Skyfire crouched down to bring their heads to the same level. He looked at her, a sad expression momentarily shadowing his optics before continuing. "You've awakened in time to say goodbye." He stood up again and moved to the controls of Flamestrike's berth, flicking a few switches and twisting a dial. "I'm placing you into recharge now, you've still got a lot of repairing to do." With those words, Flamestrike slipped back into the dark maelstrom of recharge.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
Very early the next morning, Skyfire gently carried Flamestrike through the corridors of Autobot City to the lyceum and hall reserved for Optimus Prime and the warriors fallen in battle. Flamestrike was unable to balance or stand, her circuits still painfully repairing the connections between her ragged leg sensors and her battered cortex. She pressed her face into Skyfire's shoulder, embarrassed at the proof of her physical debility. She was thinking more clearly, though, despite the constant dulled pain, and noted that no other Autobots frequented the corridors of their passage.
"Skyfire," she finally ventured to ask, "why are we so early?" She didn't particularly want to go, especially not in her present invalid state. She lifted her head to catch his gaze as he slowed his step and looked back. Skyfire looked, well, sad. His calm demeanor melted away a tiny bit to reveal a gentle soul, tortured by the events of the past months. The two solitary souls arrived at the grand door, the entrance to Optimus Prime's viewing bier. Skyfire nudged the door open and ducked in, carefully angling his torso to keep Flame's unresponsive limbs from scraping the frame. Once inside, he stopped and lifted her slightly higher in his arms.
"Flamestrike," he finally replied, his voice a barely audible rumble. "For the last several weeks our comrades have been able to take time to mourn. They've started the healing process." He stepped forward into the dimmed room, empty save for the draped dais and the dark unmoving form lying in state on the platform. Skyfire paused at the right side of the bier, lowering Flamestrike down next to the body of their former commander. "We have not." He kneeled down to match gazes with the stunned femme. Slowly, Skyfire shook his head. "I've spent all my time with our comrades, helping them heal. Now, no one is left, save you." The tall, gentle scientist looked at her, his facial planes awash with grief. The mask of his calm slipped further and he slumped his shoulders forward. "Will you help me heal, Flame? Will you share my final moment with Prime?"
There was no other answer she could give. "Yes."
Skyfire inclined his head towards hers in gratitude, touching helms briefly. "Thank you," he whispered, rising halfway and taking a few careful steps towards the head of the bier. He knelt down next to Prime's shoulder, placing one trembling hand on the death-faded metal. Lost in silent communication, the compassionate white mech shook with sorrow finally let free.
Flamestrike, propped up near Prime's knee, reluctantly turned to regard the shell of her former commander. She hadn't known Prime very well, though they had occasionally chatted when he visited the office or quarters she shared with Prowl. It was Prime who had finally convinced her, after she and Prowl had bonded, to take the commission to officer rank. Vague memories and snippets of old conversations flitted back and forth across her cortex. Prime was the ultimate commander; caring, inspirational, strong, wise. His presence had permeated Autobot City like a great, paternal warmth. She gazed up at the grey-tinged face, desolate feelings finally coalescing into a private farewell.
Lowering her head until her crested helm brushed the cold metal, Flamestrike directed her internal monologue to the departed spark of the still form. Optimus Prime, I- don't know what to say, but you are sorely missed. You were the guiding hand that kept us together, kept us inspired to fight. We're lost without you... without all of you... Her thoughts became unfocused and she joined Skyfire in silent lamentation, her senses paralyzed by grief too long deferred. Tiny flames flickered from her feathered crest, reflections of the deep, burning pain that ate away her fragile grasp on reality.
After a time, Skyfire's shuddering eased. He kneeled upright, his face reflecting the closure and healing accomplished with saying farewell. Shadows still framed his motions, but even they were easing with the return of his soothing calmness. He cast a glace back at Flamestrike, noting her slumped form, arms folded across Prime's knee, the flames from her helm casting a dancing ruddy light on her folded wings. Quietly, so as not to startle her, Skyfire inched over and reached out with one tentative hand to touch her left arm. She jerked, stiffened, and then slowly relaxed as her head came up. Her optics pulsed for a moment before the flames on her crest dimmed out.
"Flame, we have one more place to visit," Skyfire's voice intoned. Flamestrike mutely nodded, aware that two Cybertronian honor guards had entered the room, presumably to stand watch over the viewings for that day. She briefly resented their presence; angry that they would intrude on her and Skyfire's private farewell, and see her unable even to stand up. But in another corner of her mind, it didn't really matter. Skyfire's grief appeared to have eased with his mourning; hers was like an incoming tsunami, still building to its devastating climax.
Taking the entrance of the two guards as a signal, Skyfire gathered the brown femme back into his embrace, taking an extra moment to arrange her lower extremities comfortably before standing up to his full height. Once assured that she wouldn't slip from his arms, he gave a solemn nod to the two mechs and gravely paced out of the room. Embarrassed, Flamestrike held her head in her spread fingers, refusing to look at either of the warriors.
The next hall they entered was much larger. It was usually reserved for lectures or demonstrations and could hold almost the entire complement of the City. Skyfire entered from one of the side doors directly in line with the six platforms spaced evenly across the front of the hall. A few shadowed forms moved around quietly, far enough away from the fallen Ark warriors to not impede Skyfire's progress. The lights were dimmed in respect for the solemnity of the event to occur later that morning, save for six bright spots illuminating the bodies of the departed heroes.
Flamestrike raised her head at the change in lighting, her face swinging around to scan the spotlighted platforms. She stiffened in Skyfire's arms, pushing ineffectively against the huge mech's chestplate. Her crest glowed from the incipient flames caused by her sudden sorrowful panic. "Skyfire," she managed to force out through dental plates clenched in agony, "I don't think I can…" Her protest dwindled silent as the arms holding her clutched her painfully close. Skyfire paused at the edge of the first platform's circle of light, lifting her up, bending close to touch helms, heedless of the low flickering heat from her crest.
"Please try, Flame." He murmured low in his vocalizer, explaining. "Today is the official memorial. Once it is over, we will launch the mausoleum into deep space. This is our last chance to say goodbye." He stepped into the bright light of the first platform, keeping a firm hold on Flamestrike's unwilling body. Skyfire bent down on one knee next to Windcharger's broken shell. Flame couldn't help the thoughts that surfaced at the sight of her first mission-partner on Earth.
Windcharger. I will miss your good humor. You were an excellent mission second… her thoughts devolved into randomness, scattered memories flitting too fast for her to focus coherently. Skyfire also said his farewell silently, his memories evident on facial planes mobile with expression. After they had enough time to silently say what they wanted to say to Windcharger, he stood up and proceeded to the next ring of light.
Skyfire paused only a few moments at each platform, but taking enough time for Flamestrike to dread the next bier, the next unmoving form. Wheeljack, Brawn, Ratchet, Ironhide, all got individual farewells, each name calling up a flood of memories carried forth by her poignant grief as readily as Skyfire carried her through the hall. Her optics glazed over the terrible wounds evident on each warrior's body, seeing them in her cortex as she had seen them in life – whole and sound.
Wheeljack, you were the genius behind my new form. You truly gave me wings to fly higher than I had ever imagined…
Brawn, I can't believe that you're gone. You were always so…invincible…
Ratchet, you had a heart of gold behind those imposing optics. You patched me back together after missions more times than I can count. First Aid has a huge void to try and fill…
Ironhide, older than nearly all of us, you were the consummate warrior. Tough, competent, sometimes hotheaded, but you truly cared for each and every one of your comrades…
The last platform on the end was the most difficult for her to behold, for it cradled the mech dearer to her than life itself. Her staggering grief rose anew as they approached the lighted platform and the faded black and white figure lying upon it. Unlike at the other platforms, Skyfire leaned down and tenderly placed Flamestrike at the left shoulder of Prowl's body. He knelt down for his own farewell, one large white hand lightly clasping Flamestrike's folded right wing.
Flamestrike gazed at her bondmate's form, taking in the sweep of his chestplate, his slim hips, shapely hands, his regal doorwings, his elegant facial planes. She memorized every inch of his form, running her fingertips along his arm and chest, setting this scene indelibly in her memory banks. Her awareness faded until only Prowl was left. Nothing else mattered; no one else existed for her as she felt the nothingness where his spark had joined with hers. The tide of desolate grief crested within her and she slowly collapsed over the form of her love, taking his left hand and pressing it against her grey cheek as she began to shake with quiet sobs. Jets of fire rippled from her crest in reaction. Long moments passed. She lost herself in the overwhelming maelstrom of memories, keening her sorrow, her loss.
Drowning in her grief, she didn't notice when Skyfire took his hand away and stood up, stepping a pace away and folding his arms in a protective stance. By then, they were not alone in the front of the hall. Jazz and Ultra Magnus made a beeline to the tall Valkyrie standing like a white beacon behind Prowl's platform.
Ultra Magnus arrived first with Jazz just a step behind. Magnus stepped past Flamestrike with barely a glance, but the saboteur paused to crouch down and squeeze her shoulder gently before rising to stand behind Magnus. Skyfire looked at the two newly returned officers with a cool stare; he had an idea what this was all about. Jazz looked a little embarrassed to be playing backup to the new second-in-command, but determined to do his duty…as he saw fit.
Ultra Magnus unnecessarily cleared his vocalizer before addressing Skyfire. "I am to assume that she will move before the memorial service begins?" He cast a glance at the slumped form. "We will have full formation of all the troops." Behind him, Jazz cast his gaze upwards in a move that could only be interpreted as rolling his optics. He shrugged slightly and looked directly at Skyfire.
Skyfire gave Ultra Magnus a long, measuring look before he answered. "No," he said firmly. "She stays here. She is too injured to stand or walk, and I will not take her away from her bondmate until she's ready to go." He straightened up; arms still determinedly crossed and stared down the red-white-blue mech. Neither Skyfire nor Jazz missed the slight twitch Ultra Magnus gave at the word "bondmate."
Jazz decided to give his own opinion. "Look, Magnus, most of us here know about Prowl an' Flame. This is the only time she's got before we send 'em off, and I think it's best to let her stay and say goodbye." Jazz took Magnus' arm and started pulling him away from the platform. "Skyfire, you jes' keep her here and I'll take care of the rest." The two newcomers departed to prepare for the memorial, Jazz looking back over his shoulder and giving Skyfire a thumbs-up. Skyfire's lip quirked in a slight smile and he relaxed his stance a fraction.
Flamestrike was completely unaware of the exchange between the other officers. Her thoughts were swamped with a million snippets of memory from the five years she had known Prowl. She held his hand in hers, pressing her facial planes against the cool white metal. Silent sobs shook her healing frame jarring her circuits painfully as she relived each moment, each conversation, every evening she spent nestled in his arms. Her crest burned with deep red-gold flames in sorrowful reaction, eerily lighting her slumped form. She lay inclined over Prowl, blind and deaf to anything but the swirling images her memory banks vividly played in the center of her abused cortex.
The combined population of Autobot City and their human allies slowly arrived, the Autobots lining up in impressive formation while the smaller humans took seats near the line of platforms. The memorial wasn't a long one, but it was poignant with speeches from those who knew the fallen soldiers best. After the playing of taps (a human custom deemed appropriate for this solemn ceremony), those assembled could stop at the platforms for a more personal farewell. Many did, and while Flamestrike received more than one odd glance, most of the Autobots from her time in the City stopped to touch her shoulder or arm in sympathy. Flamestrike remained in mournful detachment for the entire day, incognizant to everything, increasingly lost in her own memory processors.
o0o
When night fell, Red Alert finally stalked up to the bier. He looked around the hall, double-checking the area even though he knew his sensors had reported all clear. He took another two steps forward, crouching down to peer at the femme who looked to be lying in state almost as much as her bondmate was, save for the dying flames flickering up from her crested helm. Red Alert had heard there were those who thought Flamestrike's behavior unusual. He shook his head, and reached out to shake her shoulder strut. It took a long time for him to get any response.
Flamestrike felt the shaking as if from far away. She struggled to find the source of the contact and found it - next to the increasing pain and loneliness that she wished to leave so far behind. The shaking grew more insistent and she found herself responding, unfolding back into her circuitry. Her leg receptors stabbed her with a jab of pain, bringing focus back to the here-and-now. The sorrowful numbness where she was lost faded from her sensors. She hesitantly raised her head from Prowl's arm and turned to look pointedly at the red-white mech jarringly shaking her epauliere.
Red Alert looked at Flame intensely. Flame felt a bit uncomfortable being so close to the Security director. Actually, she couldn't ever remember being quite this close to Red. Like the other Autobots, she had given him quite a wide swath. After all, everyone knew he was-
"Crazy." He blurted.
Flamestrike blinked in surprise. "What?"
Red gave her an ironic chuckle. "Crazy. They think I am, and now you too." He snapped his head up, giving the room another quick scan. "Once you show any sort of deviation from what they," and he gave a jerk of his head in the direction of the head offices, "deem normal, you're branded for life." He suddenly grabbed Flamestrike's upper arms in a firm grasp, causing flames of reaction to flick from her helm. He leaned in close, optics wide. "I know." He gave her arms a shake. "I heard. They don't know how much I know, and hear. Don't listen to them. Sometimes, you need to go 'crazy' to cope. Do what you need to do to survive." This time he squeezed her arms, making sure she heard the low tones. "I know after that attack there's no way you'd ever put us at risk. I know what you're going through." He gave her a significant glance and the thought sparked her cortex. He's sympathizing with me. Red? She shook her head, disbelieving, and he gave her arms another shake.
"Flamestrike, look at me. Listen to me; I will say this only once. I trust you. Trust me." He paused for a moment, then looked away and dropped her arms. "We did not have this conversation." He reached for the medbay call button Flamestrike didn't even realize was there, next to her knees in easy reach. "Skyfire left this for you when he had to go back on duty. You may or may not be ready to go back but I'm calling. I have to secure the area prior to launch." He stood up, pressing the call button with a sardonic flourish. "There. They'll send someone to come get you. You've got that much time left." He placed the call button back down next to her unresponsive leg. "I'm going to start securing the place. Make sure you leave by that door over there or you'll set off the alarm and I will be most upset." Red strode off quickly, leaving a quite bewildered Flamestrike alone at Prowl's platform.
Flamestrike turned back to Prowl. She felt tired, drained after being lost in her memory banks for so long. The flames on her helm had sputtered and died out while Red Alert was talking. Things still felt detached to her, like a thin wall of glass holding back the vortex of memories ready to suck her consciousness down into the back void where Prowl's spark used to be. She fought to stay out of recharge, taking Prowl's hand and placing it back onto the bier. She stroked his fingers sadly, her whole spark numb with grief and fatigue from her all-day vigil. She didn't hear Hound's approaching steps and jumped in surprise when his hand touched her shoulder armor.
"Ready to go?" he asked, one hand outstretched.
She took one more moment to gaze at Prowl, and brush his unresponsive lips with her fingertips. Farewell, my love...
Flamestrike nodded to the gentle tracker and handed him the medbay call button. Hound subspaced it before kneeling down to gather Flame into his arms. Hound wasn't anywhere near as large as Skyfire and Flamestrike found herself having to hang on to the green mech's shoulders as he stood back up. He may not be as tall as Skyfire, but he's strong! was the thought that unconsciously crossed her logic center. Hound juggled her for a moment before her limbs settled, then headed out the door that Red Alert specifically designated for their departure. Hound was quiet on the long walk back to medbay, apparently respecting her mood. Flamestrike was too tired to think. She had looped her arms around Hound's neck for balance and his blocky shoulder was a few inches from her head. It was just too convenient for her to fight.
Hound felt the weary sigh of Flamestrike's overtaxed processors a split second before her head drooped to rest on his shoulder. Her arms relaxed their grip around his neck, not quite loosing their clasp completely. Hound tightened his embrace, purely to keep her from slipping and doing more damage to her legs should she hit the floor, of course. Flamestrike slipped into recharge, her lax form curled in his arms. He slowed his pace a trifle, arriving at medbay in time to catch Skyfire emerging from another recovery room. Skyfire took in the scene and, without a word, opened the door to Flamestrike's room for Hound to enter unimpeded. The green tracker neared the recharge berth and gently placed the brown femme upon it, arranging her limbs in a comfortable position. She was too deep in recharge to notice the look he gave her as he turned to depart.
