Well, finally, this is being updated. I'm sorry for the long wait again. Family issues have been brewing up every day now, and it's had me down for a while. It's getting better though!
Just wanted to give another shout-out of thanks to Karategal for editing these chapters for me and helping me with grammar/spelling/etc. Thank you so much.
Well, I hope you enjoy this chapter.
Warning: Another cliffhanger. xD
Chapter Fourteen: The Battle for Bumblebee, Part III
Inside the Decepticon Base: Bumblebee's Confinement Cell
Fear refused to leave Mirage. Despite it all, deep down, some sort of a new determination simmered. Well, it felt like it.
Every tiny shift and stir Bumblebee pulled in his hands kept his tender ambition alive in his mind – The preservation of the little one's lifesource. The mission just could not be a failure.
His servo cupped under Bumblebee's skidplate and propped against his back and doorwings for support. Bumblebee bucked back into Mirage's chestplate at the sounds of Megatron's approaching footsteps, bowing his little head. His wide optics shut. He listened for the soothing sound of Mirage's spark and whimpered.
Megatron was approaching. Mirage stroked Bumblebee slowly, refusing to reroute his attention from the mouth of the cell.
But, soon, he did, scanning the interior for anything that could be of any use – for something to advance him one step closer to freedom. Mirage's optics fell over the vertex of the adjacent corner, mere feet from his camouflaged position. If he could reach the corner, make a move from there to the next corner, and finally the last to flip the switch, it would be all over. Freedom would be yielded. He would be out.
"That corner…" he whispered above a quiet chirr from Bumblebee. He glanced down. "We have to reach it. Think you can make it, little one?"
Bumblebee sniffled.
"Your end is near," Megatron spoke. "Every one of you Autobots are nothing, but excuses for warriors. That youngling will not fall to a pathetic fate as one of your kind. The orn will come when he is a warrior of my Decepticon army…"
Bumblebee covered his audios, suddenly shivering at the slow trickles of tears that slid from his optic ducts. He whimpered muffled words into Mirage's spark chamber, slowly lifting his miniature servos to set them against the warm spark chamber. Mirage thumbed across the yellow helm, then to the back of the bot's neck, drawing lazy patterns as he clutched Bumblebee a little tighter.
"Shhh, don't cry," the guardian soothed.
"I will not stop until the mechling is in my custody." The shing of the steel flail sounded. "...Understand that, Autobot."
The mace began to revolve high in the air, catching the dull rays of dreary floodlights, grazing the confinement cell walls until full crevices were bore. Metal chips, again, fell like rain onto the Autobot's in hiding, and thankfully the sound of the sliding shreds was secreted by the flail's shinging.
The chained weapon exited the radius of danger toward Mirage, giving him the perfect opportunity to initiate his plan for freedom. He darted alongside the rear wall of the cell, taking a lunge to set both feet in the corner. His shoulder panels squared with the vertex, and he turned to Megatron. He clutched Bumblebee.
The Decepticon had stopped.
Mirage pressed his invisible form into the corner – Yes, invisible, yet why was Megatron headed for his direction, straight for him? Blood red optics gleamed directly into his ocean blue pair, a smirk fixed on the 'Con's faceplate. And Primus, that sound – the flail was being dragged across the ground, screeching. Mirage turned Bumblebee's face away, feeling each and every groan and shudder to bot shuddered out, each and every terrified beat of Bumblebee's spark.
"To think you thought you could hide from me," Megatron hissed. "You must know it's easy tracking two energy signatures, each so close together." His footfalls ceased. "Foolish mistake, Autobot."
Mirage's air intakes fluttered in his chestplate, every thought in his processor becoming an unorganized jubilee of chaos, a mess of fear that rooted him to the ground. Fright screamed
core-wrenching words in his processor, a clutch of Bumblebee's frame being his only way to subdue it.
If he moved, Megatron would only chase after him. His invisibility gave a little more of a chance of survival – Mirage stopped himself. His camouflage levels – How much of it did he even have left to spare?
His processor ran the diagnostics, went through every program and circuit necessary.
He calculated quickly. He needed a number…
00:02:09.
Two Earth minutes and nine seconds until his levels would drain.
Was that enough time?
The mace was raised, aimed, and thrusted. Mirage darted, clutching the bot against his chestplate. He tumbled swiftly on a shoulder panel. The weapon struck down at his side, and again, again, over and over – chasing him, striking the ground each time. The harsh impacts sent him off balance onto his back. He squirmed backwards. A pain snaked up the wires in his side, and Mirage had no choice but to ignore it. The flail had hit him after all.
00:01:54.
Megatron began pacing.
"Pathetic coward…"
Mirage leaned a shoulder panel against the wall with a deep draw into his air intake valves. He tried his best to quiet the sharp breaths that rushed in and out. Panic drove his systems to near overload as the flail lashed down against the cell's flooring, smashing and carving into the metallic ground.
A hailstorm of debris fell against Mirage. A fearful sob from Bumblebee hit his audios, and trickles of the bot's energon tears smeared across the mech's chestplate. There was no time to comfort the little one.
The flail lashed against his side. With a groan, Mirage felt his frame shudder under the impact of the blow, pain escalating. Suddenly, he rose, dashing alongside the wall to a corner. He practically instinctively merged into the shadows, adjusting his hands to make sure Bumblebee was perfectly nestled against a particular nook in his chestplate.
Megatron walked about the cell, scanning.
The bot nestled whimpered quietly beneath frantic hums of his guardian's spark, turning his wide optics to the looming 'Con.
Recollections he thought he had forgotten were reopened in his memory core. He stared into the optics of this Decepticon, this monster in his young optics. It was one of these monsters that had murdered his mother, and another monster had taken his brother.
The bot sobbed, remembering his mother's servo reaching out to him as she spoke her final words. He remembered how it felt to curl upon Sparkfire's chestplate and watch the holoscreen during evenings. He missed it all – so dearly, too dearly. If only his father's smooth, soothing voice would murmur in his audios. If only his father's arms could be holding him – if only he didn't have to be here…
And he would never get the chance again.
00:01:22.
Each second drew them toward two fates – Freedom, or death. It was as if they were on some sort of conveyor belt, drawing closer and closer to a fork in the assembly line. Once they reached the mouth of this fork, it would throw them to either of two ways, granting them life or death.
Every second, they drew closer – inch by inch.
Mirage groaned in pain and distress. His levels were draining, quickly, and sooner or later, hiding would do no more good. He would have to fight the Decepticon – and not to mention stall until reinforcements arrived.
He dropped his optics to where Bumblebee was in his servos, feeling a small set of hands latch onto the fore of his arm. To his own surprise, he smiled.
Why his mouth curved, he didn't know why.
His digits brushed across Bumblebee's foreplate before making their way down the invisible bot, to his faceplate. Mirage frowned at the tears wetting the tips of his fingers.
"I'll go it all for you, little one," Mirage barely sighed through every sense of nervousness, looking back up at Megatron who now drew close. His optics widened as the flail suddenly rose into the air, locked for him.
He braced.
"I've had enough, Autobot."
00:01:01.
Mirage darted just before the steel spikes struck the ground, grunting quietly. Bumblebee nudged roughly into his chestplate, crying out. The weapon struck again and again, nearing him in such short astroseconds. The sound of the weapon clanging into the flooring rung in his audios. Mirage knew he couldn't avoid the upcoming blow, not this time, and shut his optics in the horrible anticipation. Bumblebee whimpered under the mace's rattling chains, clawing at the Autobot's spark chamber.
"M-Mmm…Muh-Muh-Mirage…"
Mirage clutched the little life tighter. He braced again, frame ridged.
He knew what was coming.
A digit swept across Bumblebee's helm.
"Hold on…"
00:00:49.
Pain abruptly. Energon flowed down his leg.
Mirage reflexively parted a servo from Bumblebee to his thigh, grimacing as he caught sight of the wound inflicted upon his metallic skin.
…Caught sight. Wait.
Mirage shot his optics to Bumblebee. His little form was barely visible, almost ghost-like, but it was certainly there.
Slag, his cloak was already wearing away?
Before he could contemplate anything, spikes struck again in another graze across his leg, becoming caught in sensitive wires, forcing his leg to jerk out. The spikes dug deeper and tugged his wires.
Even more pain.
A groan refused to be swallowed down, dragging from his oral circuits. Bumblebee shuddered at the sound, his tiny mouth barely murmuring his guardian's name. Mirage could hear him, yet he didn't respond – He couldn't.
The spikes forced his thigh to jolt forward and again tugged. It pulled him along, so deep in his wound.
Bumblebee shuddered as his guardian's spark skipped. The pain inflicted on Mirage's body was more he could imagine. His spark struggled to supply. Energon deprived his systems.
Bumblebee watched Mirage's faceplate begin to flourish into view.
"M-Mirage…" the bot murmured barely. "…N-No."
A desperate groan left the guardian.
00:00:33.
Mirage blinked his optics and peered down to the where mechling shuddered, soon shooting his gaze up suddenly as the mace began revolving yet again. Megatron would not cease –not until he was offline.
He couldn't let that happen.
00:00:25.
They were practically visible.
Mirage gasped. He caught sight of his own servos around of the wound on his thigh and his side. He cringed, falling onto his back panels. He tried to breathe deeply. Bumblebee's optics glimmered with a layer of tears, and the bot's faceplate scrunched in terror. His tiny mouth wriggled before he spoke.
"M-Mirage, you're - " A miniature servo raised toward his guardian's thigh.
"Shh," the mech hushed and gently moved Bumblebee's servo from near his wounds. He buried his small faceplate into his spark chamber. "Don't you worry…I'll be fine."
There was a raw edge of pain in his voice.
Bumblebee pulled his head from Mirage's chestplate, staring up at the Autobot. With every astrosecond that passed - with each that passed without a word of reinforcements - they were only nearing the brink of death.
The mechling knew too much of death, but one thing – What did it feel like to be in sheer pain, and to die a painful death – like his brother, his mother, his father…
Bee, horribly, considered the questions yet to be answered.
00:00:12.
Megatron ceased immediately at the sight of Mirage and Bumblebee.
"Well, well, well…What do we have this time?" Megatron mused, pacing.
00:00:00.
The cloak was done.
Mirage's spark shivered inside him. He contemplated on the spot – What could he do? What did he have on him? His processor scanned and told him.
A rifle, shoulder-mounted electro-disruptor…
Mirage smiled slowly.
An optical illusion. That was it.
The Autobot stepped forward. Bumblebee wriggled in protest.
"M-Mirage…!" he chirped in fear. "Wha - "
"Trust me…" A smile.
Megatron's optics slitted. "Wipe that smirk off your face."
Mirage only grinned wider. The shoulder mounted electro-disruptor activated without a hesitation, momentarily altering Mirage's appearance. Mirage hurriedly slipped further from the corner that had once veiled him, stealing a glance back to an optical illusion of himself and little Bumblebee, standing in the shadows. Megatron glared at it, suspecting not a thing. Mirage wanted to laugh, but held it in.
Bumblebee's servos pressed against Mirage's spark chamber whilst he stood in his guardian's palm. He giggled quietly at the much duped Decepticon.
He chirped softly and pointed to the switch only feet away. Mirage moved to flip it.
"Yes!" Bumblebee cheered in a careful voice.
Mirage was ahead of the bot, already stepping a foot forward, his mouth open and ready to whisper a, "We did it!"
…When the cell sealed, clicked locked, and fastened.
"Primus, no…" Mirage whispered in disbelief. "You can't be serious."
They had been so. Close
His optics flicked to Megatron, fear burning like blue flames. Bumblebee cried out, shuddering uncontrollably. Mirage let him.
They were slagged.
Megatron laughed and moved the tip of a claw from a switch attached to the wall beside to the cell's mouth.
Now they were truly locked inside.
"To think that you even thought you could leave so easily…" the 'Con laughed again.
Mirage quaked suddenly, clutching Bumblebee as he moved away from the Decepticon, trying to create as much a distance as he could muster. Megatron knew his move before Mirage even drew it out, whipping the mace against the Autobot's back in the blink of an optic.
More pain. Horrible.
Mirage cried out, falling onto his front. He automatically curled inward, instinctively cupping his servos around Bumblebee to protect the little life. Bumblebee shook frenziedly in absolute terror. The little one longed to get out of this place – a place, to one so small, that looked as immense as the Pit itself. Sobbing, Bumblebee nestled against Mirage's neck, hugging it tightly. He watched his guardian's optic lids flutter, felt a groan rattle in his throat.
Megatron approached. Bumblebee swirled around. He gasped.
"Pl-Please, don't h-hurt me…" the bot's voice shook.
Mirage's spark twisted.
The 'Con wasn't going to hurt any bot – yet. His flail struck the ground again – harder than ever – and sent Mirage soaring to a corner. He grunted, feeling his back panels slam against the walling, blue optics flickering. He groaned.
"B-Bumblebee…" He stirred. "Bumblebee, you okay?"
He looked down to Bee in his hands…
The mechling wasn't there.
Mirage's breath hitched. "Bumblebee!"
Megatron's laughter resounded. "You fool!" Laughter again.
Mirage's optics shot up, rounding in horror. "No!"
Bumblebee lay sprawled on his back in the center of the confinement cell, the bot's wide blue optics fluttering weakly. An open wound ran from his tiny tank plating to his side, leaking energon and pooling slowly beneath his bright yellow frame. Bumblebee whimpered with a small groan– Helpless, so innocent.
"No!" Mirage said again, struggling to his feet despite the pain.
He charged blindly at Megatron without the slightest idea as to what he was doing. Megatron pushed him aside with a hand, chuckling at his dimwitted move.
"Your luck has run out, Autobot," he said bitterly, wrapping his claw around the wounded youngling. Bumblebee squeaked, his breath shallow, seeming to be the last breath to ever leave him – so frail it was.
The sight of pale blue blood running and dripping between Megatron's claws made Mirage's fuel tanks churn, his spark to wrench painfully. Tears stung his blue optics for the first time in vorns, his mouth fixed in a sorrow filled frown.
"Bumblebee…" the Autobot breathed.
How could he have let the bot go?
'Bee's body lay limp in Megatron's claw, his optic lids lowering.
"No," Mirage choked.
The 'Con chuckled and curled his hand into a tight fist. Bumblebee's frame groaned as it was crushed slowly in the claw's tight grasp, a shuddering, nearly breathless cry rasping through the air.
Mirage grimaced and looked away. He could still hear tiny air intakes huffing, Bumblebee's internal systems trying to rev to better status, only groaning in such impossible tasks for the bot. Mirage thought he heard Bumblebee breathe his name.
"What have I done…" Mirage murmured, slowly returning his gaze. "I've failed."
Megatron tilted his claw, letting Bumblebee drop onto the cold, metal ground without the slightest care in the universe. Bumblebee's body managing to shutter in excruciating pain. Mirage refused to look.
"You left me with no choice," Megatron spoke with no trace of sympathy. He aimed his fusion cannon for Mirage.
"Let us finish this…" He stepped forward.
xXx
Thereafter: Outside the Decepticon Base
Approximately One Breem Later
"Hold…" a deep, gentle voice ordered. "Look."
Elita One kept her form close beside her sparkmate's with her pistol lying against a pink shoulder panel, her white digits tightly clutching around the weapon's grip. Her optics fixed to where Optimus Prime was indicating, to the Helicopter-disguised Decepticon transforming above its home base. His rotary blades beat the air like a furious drumbeat. It's feet dug into the ground, a mighty form straightening.
Elita sulked back subconsciously, watching the Decepticon from feet away.
She nearly scoffed. "It's only one."
"We cannot underestimate the Decepticon, Elita One," a mellow voice murmured above her audio. She turned her optics to watch Optimus' lips curve into a small smile, his own blue optics looking directly into hers – almost through them. His laser rifle clicked as it was attached to his back, snapping gently into its proper place.
Elita made no comment towards his, only frowning at the sight of Blackout. Her optics fell to the pistol, watching it lower to her breastplate. Her digits caressed it oh-so-gently. She swept the fores along its frame, twirled lazily along the muzzle's circumference, swopped down the curve of the trigger. The tender gestures reminded her of stroking a sparkling – then, Bumblebee.
A sigh passed her lips.
"What of the youngling, Prime," she basically muttered.
The smile on his faceplate disappeared. Optimus looked at her, forcing his tone of voice to remain unwavering. "What of him?"
"Have you heard from Mirage?"
As if by magic, static began hissing in his audio receptors - an incoming communications channel. The call struggled to establish between Optimus and whoever was attempting to contact. Optimus accepted the succeeding transmission, angling his shoulder panels from Elita's. His mouth opened to speak, but the caller beat him to the catch.
"Op-Optimus, please. Come in, commander." A groan. "…Come in."
"Mirage…" Optimus breathed, his faceplate retracting. His head bowed. "What is the problem? What's wrong? Is Bumblebee - "
"L-Listen," Mirage interjected, his oral circuits straining to produce his normal, smooth voice, instead shivering forth a bare whisper – desperate, raw in pain, frightened perhaps. Optimus couldn't decipher. A shaky draw of air shuddered inward to Mirage's air intakes before he spoke. "Megatron's left. Bumblebee a-and I alone in this cell…a-and he's taken Soundwave with him." A short cough, metal squeaking as he propped upright. "Bumblebee…He's injured – greatly. I have him right now…in my hands, Prime. His spark's weak. I'm not sure how long he'll be online. I can stay online until reinforcements arrive." Mirage sighed. "…H-Hurry…"
The weak plea echoed.
Optimus was at a loss of words. His metal lips slowly parted, ready to give Mirage the reassurance he knew the warrior wanted to hear. He couldn't. Optimus reviewed Mirage's wrenching monologue.
Bumblebee was nearing death, at the doorstep, moving closer and closer to the brink with every passing moment. His optic lids fell, a sigh leaving him.
Mirage stirred on the other end. "Are you there?"
Optimus nodded. "I'm here, Mirage…What's your status?"
"I'll manage, don't worry about me. Preservation of Bumblebee's lifesource is our essential goal in this mission anyways." A weak chuckle. "I'll live."
The commander grimaced at Mirage's delicate, weak tone of voice. He forced it to be ignored. "I'll be at your location as soon as possible."
"How will you do that?"
"I'll track your energy signatures," Optimus replied. "Until then…hang in there. And do your best to preserve Bumblebee's lifesource. Keep him online."
"I will. I would never let him offline, Sir."
A faint smile ghosted Optimus' lips. "Excellent…Commander out."
"Mirage out."
A click killed both COM channels.
Elita One slowly approached her sparkmate, letting a servo loosely clutch her pistol alongside pink-armored thigh plating. Her blue optics drooped at his, soft features held in disarray, and even a trace of fear.
"What's wrong?"
There was no right way to tell her.
"Elita…" Optimus sighed, both of his strong arms wrapping around the slender waistline of his candy colored femmebot. Elita's expression was confused, her optics droopy and perplexed – His faceplate, conceivably sympathetic and solemn. His optics dropped. "I must depart from you to combat Megatron in the Decepticon base, and aid Mirage and Bumblebee."
Elita's optics widened. "Optimus, no! You - "
Optimus shook his head. He wasn't finished. "I must, Elita," he murmured. "Both Mirage and Bumblebee are fighting to stay online – Bumblebee's own status being the worst of them all. His lifesource is too tender, Elita, I know you know this. The sooner I depart, the higher chance of his survival."
"It's Megatron!" she whispered heatedly at him. "He'll offline you in an astrosecond."
Optimus sighed. A gentle servo lifted to cup against one of Elita One's cheekplates as he leaned forward in their embrace, pressing his metal lips against her own in a soft kiss. Her optics seemed to be layered with a thin layer of tears as they cast to Optimus', watching him pull away only slightly, keeping his mouth near to hers.
She frowned and murmured, "For all I know, this could be the last time you kiss me."
The mech shook his head. "It's not like you to think such things, Elita."
She shrugged, optics to the ground. "There's a first time for everything," the mutter tumbled out. "…Especially when it involves Megatron."
She looked back to him, lying a servo against his cheekplate. Her digits stroked his war-roughened faceplate tenderly, feeling its facets shift as a wide smile curved his lips. She smiled back, stroking to his helm. "Promise me you'll be alright…"
Optimus nodded slowly. "My love, don't worry." He kissed her again. "I will return to you."
Elita One let herself fall against his chassis, letting his arms meet the slenderness of her frame, letting his servo stroke up and down the curve of her metallic spine – the soft indentation. Her audio unconsciously slid to his spark chamber, letting warm beats hum a soothing song to her. Her optics fell shut. Moments like this, she never wanted them to end.
"Optimus, everything okay?"
Elita opened her optics as Optimus' mighty frame shifted beneath her, both of the couple's pairs of optics shifting to the Arcee and Hot Rod pair a few feet away from them. A nod from Optimus was the only reply, his blue optics dropping to Elita's. His arms uncoiled.
"Until I return, join Hot Rod and Arcee. Be cautious when combating the Decepticons." He gave a half-smile. "Contact me if there are any malfunctions."
She nodded. "I'll rendezvous with you later then…"
Another nod reflected hers.
Before he departed, she took his servo. Their optics locked.
"Be…careful. Please," she begged softly, now taking his servo with both of hers.
Optimus smiled. "I will, I promise you." A small chuckle. "You need not worry."
She only nodded to kill this doubt arousing in her.
Optimus turned away, but she still held his hand. Before the very second of his departure, she gave it a squeeze.
For good luck, she guessed.
xXx
Inside the Decepticon Base: Bumblebee's Confinement Cell
There were two clicks. A groan. Valves clacking softly as weak breaths of air were drawn. Another groan…cough, whirr and chirr. A twitch, a sigh, a whimper. The sounds of an offlining Bumblebee.
Mirage's spark twisted.
The Autobot lifted his helm from the wall, optic lids fluttering as he cast a lazy gaze down at the mechling in his lap. Bumblebee's cheekplate lay on his thigh plating, a small yellow and black frame splayed lifelessly amid his crossed legs. There was no movement, only tiny blurbs and chirps of pain.
Mirage used a hand to gently slide Bumblebee's head further back on his thigh, thus letting his digits barely sweep over the tender body, stroking over the chestplate and stomach-side plating injury. Energon stained the tips of his fingers. He smeared it, rested his helm back against the wall, though keeping his optics fixated on Bumblebee.
His audios picked up 'Bee's faint ventilations – sluggish, withered…
He cringed. "Don't give up, Bee," he whispered, stroking. "You'll be okay…" He sighed. "You'll be alright…M'here."
He thought he heard Bumblebee murmur his name.
Maybe he did. Perhaps it was his processor playing tricks on him. He didn't know.
Mirage's servo tilted slightly, lying against the soft nooks of Bumblebee's spark chamber. The little one's spark beat weakly, struggling under an overload of pain. He could only caress Bumblebee's soft, expressionless faceplate, twirling the tip of a digit around yellow antennae, drawing weary shapes into flat doorwings.
Bumblebee would usually react to a situation like this with a smile, upturning wide optics and a giggle bouncing from his oral circuits – maybe even clapping his tiny servos together as he hopped up and down.
That's what he would do.
Now, he was absolutely still, almost dead silent. Dead…
Mirage twitched.
No, no. Just silent. Silent. Not dead silent, no. Bumblebee wasn't dead.
His optics shut. He groaned.
Alone in this cell – for now at least. If Megatron were to return or not, he didn't know. Mirage hadn't mentioned to Optimus what had just gone underwear in this Pit of a cell. His optics fell to the scorch mark inflicted on the left of his chestplate. A simple, light brush across the mark with his palm made him jolt.
Megatron's cannon had scarcely missed his spark, had scarcely missed the one sweet target that would offline him. The thought made him cringe.
Bumblebee's faceplate scrunched, his body barely wriggled. A tiny series of coughs made his frame shiver. A small servo slid across Mirage's thigh. Mirage wondered if Bumblebee was dreaming.
He eased Bumblebee's hand into the palm of his own, clutching the tiny thing. Bumblebee coughed into his thigh again, drawing in a fragile breath, frame shuddering in the struggle. Mirage thought he saw Bumblebee's optic lids flutter, but they were only shutting tighter.
The bot once again fell silent, leaving Mirage in a painfully heavy quietude.
He heard nothing, but the thrumming beats of his spark and the revs of his internal systems working to repair him of his wounds. His cheekplate against the cool wall, his lids
sagged. He kept Bumblebee's servo clutched whilst brushing to and fro, lightly caressing the small body.
His processor drifted. What would Bee's fate arise as? Online, offline…
What about his own? Would they even win this battle for the mechling's custody?
There was still Megatron.
The reminder crushed his thoughts.
Destiny would do its rightful task.
Mirage flicked his optics to Bumblebee as the bot's oral circuits became active again. Sighing barely, he stirred, being more than careful as he cupped his servos around Bumblebee, lifting him to a crook of his neck. Bumblebee's limp body splayed across a shoulder panel, his head allowing Mirage's digits to adjust it at will.
Swaying back and forth, Mirage could only wait and let time click by.
He listened to Bumblebee again, closing his optics.
A groan, a whirr. Three coughs, then an inhale, and a shiver…
xXx
In the meantime…
It grew, stronger and stronger as he neared this one face of the base, and this one only.
The energy signatures were promising.
A click established a private communications channel between Mirage and himself. There was a groggy hum on the other end, followed by a deep inhale to Mirage's air intake valves.
"Sir?"
Optimus' head bowed with his gaze. "What's your status?" He had to check on him.
There was silence. "I'm holding. Don't you worry about me, Optimus…" He sighed. "It's just Bumblebee I'm concerned about. He hasn't been showing many signs of responsiveness."
Optimus started moving again. "Hold you position. I'll be with you as soon as I can find a way inside."
A hum of acknowledgment, and another weak sigh. "Y-Yes…Sir."
Optimus winced. "Hang in there."
There was no response.
The COM channel whirred dead.
xXx
Inside the Decepticon Base: Bumblebee's Confinement Cell
Three and a Half Breems Later
Mirage's vision grew sharp, then fell blurry – Sharp, blurry, sharp, sharper, a little blurrier and all was dark again. He felt a servo lay against his cheekplate, tapping him lightly to stir his sensors. Mirage heard his oral circuits release a groan as he tried to lift his helm from the cold floor, but a pain up his back forced him to comply and lie back down.
Whoever's servo lifted away from his cheekplate, and it was then when his vision became its sharpest, focusing on the mech who knelt above him.
He sighed gratefully. "Optimus…" His mouth kept forming words, wanting to talk, but for some reason he couldn't. The back of his processor kept telling him to shut his audio unit and recharge, but he couldn't do that. Not now at least.
"What happened?" Mirage asked softly.
Optimus patted his fellow warrior's hand, looking to the wounded one's melted optics. "I believe you passed out, Mirage. But now, don't strain your oral circuits," he ordered in a hushed tone. "Your energy signature is weak…Conserve every bit of energy in your systems that you can, you understand?"
Mirage began to nod slowly, then halted. "But-"
"Mirage," his name was sighed with a soft glare. "Quiet."
Yet, he continued. "…What about Bumblebee?"
With his optics blinking slowly, the commander nearly grimaced as he rotated his chassis, reaching behind him with what seemed to be extreme caution. Mirage didn't understand.
Astroseconds later, however, the sight's horror was all too evident, and he couldn't help but comprehend. His optics widened at the sight of a motionless, limp Bumblebee scooped in both of Optimus' large hands.
Optimus gingerly laid the bot atop Mirage's shoulder panel. Mirage looked to Bumblebee, releasing a painful sigh through his vents. His digits eased the bot closer to his faceplate as he grimaced, wincing at the poor youngling. 'Bee looked even worse.
A groan left Mirage.
The mechling practically felt and certainly looked offline against his shoulder panel, worse than before – just lying there, unresponsive, little optical lids sagged over once-glowing optics. His energy signature was the faintest they get.
The tiny groans, whirrs, and coughs from Bee had long before stopped. He was completely silent, except for the sound of his internal systems revving barely. Mirage thumbed over each limp doorwing, and then to Bumblebee's helm, releasing a sigh as he slowly moved to a corner.
Optimus frowned at the sight, his optics drooping. It was fascinating how in such little time, the mech had grown so attached to little Bumblebee. Then again, the bot was innocent, completely undeserving of any sort of pain. Any Cybertronian who couldn't feel for such a delicate creature, by Primus, were they twisted.
The Commander didn't interfere with Mirage and his silent mourning. He let a breem pass by, then another, scanning over his processor, going over what had just happened in the battlefield.
Mirage's optics slid to the mouth of the cell. He wondered if he tried real hard to somehow slip between those bars – masked in active camouflage. No, Megatron would surely notice his disappearance and send his 'Con troops after him. Escaping would only heighten this situation.
He closed his optics. His jawline angled to rest alongside Bumblebee's spine. The mechling didn't do the slightest as to even pull out a little wriggle. Bee only lay flat on his stomach plating, his faceplate ghosted with that haunting shadow of lifelessness – that pale, nearly phantom like dusk beginning to take over his infantile faceplate. Mirage stroked Bumblebee worriedly, shaking his head. Finally, the silence was broken.
"Optimus, what're we gonna do?" he whispered, stroking deeper. "Sit and wait? And see what happens?" Troubled optics lifted to Prime. "Bumblebee's lifesource is on the line, Prime, we can't stay here."
The commander bowed his head and knelt beside the soldier. "Mirage, I'm sure you know we cannot just leave. Decepticon forces are all around the base. Outside these very walls. At least one will notice an Autobot mech cradling a mechling across and outside the battlefield."
Mirage huffed, opened his mouth to speak, but shut it. His optics turned to Bumblebee. "I just don't want - "
"You don't want Bumblebee to suffer."
"Or offline," Mirage cut in, looking to Prime. "I've never felt so worried."
Optimus half-smiled, despite the situation. He lifted a hand to set it on Mirage's, the ones that tenderly held the wounded youngling in such a protective manner. The Commander's hand patted twice. "Bumblebee won't offline, Mirage. I promise you." His finger gave the bot's doorwing a light tap. "His spark is a strong one, don't you know that? A very strong one."
Mirage smiled faintly. "Yeah, I know," he nodded. "…I know now."
The commander smiled.
As much as Optimus wanted to continue reassuring his comrade, there was no time. Footsteps began sounding down the hall. Commander's optics flicked swiftly in their direction
before redirecting unto Mirage again. He pointed to a corner, one adjacent to where Mirage now sat.
"Mirage, camouflage, and hide in that corner," he ordered in a whisper. "But, don't drain your energy too quickly. Conserve for as long as you can."
Mirage nodded, dashing to the corner. In that time, his camouflage rendered him invisible in the shadows. He checked the little Bee still limp on his shoulder panel, tucking him away in his lap, cradling him in his palms. Whilst stroking the mechling's invisible frame, his optics returned to Optimus who now was on his feet again, laser cannon ready.
Megatron appeared at the entrance.
Optimus' optics narrowed.
"Fancy seeing you here, Megatron," he spoke lowly.
Megatron's scarlet optics glinted and flared. "Likewise, Prime," the Decepticon growled. As he began scanning the cell, Optimus nearly jolted in realization. The Autobot knew who Megatron was searching for – Bumblebee. He wanted the mechling. For what? It could be anything. Whatever the intentions, they would certainly be a sight.
Optimus' optics heated. No, Megatron would not get his claws on Bumblebee.
Not again.
Optimus would get Bumblebee away from this Hellhole, or offline trying.
xXx
Unknown Location – Beyond the Outskirts of Battle
Starscream landed on the soil on his perfect landing, red optics turning to watch his subordinates descend to the earth in liquid grace on either of his sides. The two were hooting in laughter, and Thundercracker shoved his fellow minion in the shoulder panel. Starscream didn't understand what was so funny, only arching an optic ridge at the two.
"What in the universe is so funny?" he demanded.
Thundercracker volunteered to reply. "You destroyed that Autobot like he was nothing!" the jet subordinate exclaimed.
Starscream smiled. "I did, didn't I?"
Skywarp stepped forward, grazing his shoulder panel with Thundercracker's. "You bet. That's the last time those Autobots will ever underestimate the Seekers."
Starscream simply looked off to where the 'Con-Bot battle still underwent – heated – to where energon was shed and laser cannons were charged. All over something so fussy, really. All over the custody of one particular little Autobot mechling. Over some bot named Bumblebee.
Skywarp's inquiry broke the thoughts of the 'Con second-in-command.
"So, what'do we do now?"
"Yeah," Thundercracker interjected softly. "We've done our job, and we deserve - "
"Mute it, I'm thinking," Starscream hissed, crossing his arms across his chestplate. He contemplated for astroseconds of silence, and when an underhanded, crooked grin came about his faceplate, both subordinates exchanged confounded looks, optic ridges arching. Skywarp was the one to question the Second's devious smile.
"Care to tell us what's so amusing?" the jet asked, perplexity ever present.
Starscream craned his neck to meet both pairs of their red optics, smile growing. "We will be returning to battle."
"For what?"
"Think about it!" the Second spat, turning his angular set of strutted shoulder panels to his Seeker minions. "Suppose…" His grin grew. "Suppose Megatron is…defeated."
Thundercracker waved his servos. "No, no, no. He's not gonna lose!"
"We're talkin' about Megatron here!" Skywarp interjected.
Rage sent the Second's claws to fists, and a heated flare to both of his optics. He spun around with an angered hiss rattling in his audio unit, infuriation ever evident about his features. "Megatron CAN be defeated! He's a normal mech like you and me!"
Skywarp arched his optic ridge. "You emphasized the, 'and.' Are you trying to imply something?"
Starscream's features crumpled to confusion. "What're you talking about?"
"It sounded like you were trying to avoid us thinking you were abnormal…"
Thundercracker chuckled. "Well, I wonder where he got that idea."
"ENOUGH," Starscream demanded. "What I meant was Megatron does not possess any instrument or weapon that makes him a better mech than me."
No one begged to differ.
"Saying he is defeated by the Autobots and the mechling is to be extracted from the base's confinement cell to theirs, we can launch another attack on them and destroy every last Autobot, but the youngling, of course."
"As they make way to their base," Thundercracker spoke.
"Exactly."
Starscream turned away from them, hiding the cunning smile that curved his mouth.
He added in a murmur to himself, "And afterwards, I can finally crown myself as the new leader of the Decepticons."
xXx
Inside the Decepticon Base: Bumblebee's Confinement Cell
Mirage's features cringed at the sound, the sound of his commanding officer's back panels slamming against the wall, grating against the metal with a horrible, audio-splitting sound. Megatron's hands dug into Optimus' shoulders, scraping the red and blue metal. The combating mechs soon brawled closer to Mirage's position, and the Autobot found himself gathering the wounded Bumblebee in his arms and scurrying to the other corner, active camouflage functional.
His form collected to a tight bundle, Bumblebee in his arms. The youngling. Still, limp, lifeless, it seemed. The bot was now uttering tiny groans and anguish-drenched whirrs from his tiny audio unit. He was making sound. That gave Mirage some sort of relief, yet his spark wrenched at every sound. His fingers could only stroke away at Bumblebee's faceplate, could only fondle with little antennae, one at a time, slowly. He wondered if Bumblebee found any relief from his stroking.
He wished there was such thing as control of time. He wanted to be breems from now, at their base, caring for the suffering youngling whose spark faded away even more with each passing moment. If fate would allow them to even take custody of the precious one.
Mirage looked in the direction of the cell mouth. The bars were no longer blocking off the exit, they were gone. Well, of course they had to be. Megatron, after all, did enter not long ago. The thought screamed at him. Escape! They could escape, and get Bumblebee to freedom, to shelter, to safety.
The Autobot looked now to his combating commander. He couldn't just leave. What if Optimus needed him? Needed assistance? Mirage couldn't leave…But, then again, he could. Slag, what to do?
As he contemplated, he watched Optimus fall to the ground from a strike. But, he was soon on his feet again, aiming his laser cannon right at his approaching target. Laser fire detonated, Megatron took it without a flinch. The spiky mace struck the side of Optimus' chassis, and the Commander leaned into a corner, tackling Megatron's shoulder panels with his hands. The two were locked in a fist fight yet again, pure hate glinting in both of the mechs' optics.
Mirage diverted his attention to Bumblebee when the bot mustered a tiny twitch of movement. The Autobot furrowed his brow. Was the bot trying to tell him something, or was it simply just a little squirm? Maybe Bumblebee was looking up at him right now, trying to see his face. If he could only disable his camouflage and see the little one. Just for a bit…
Mirage leaned forward. "Bumblebee?" he whispered.
A tiny groan came back at him.
Mirage's optics rounded. The bot was responsive?
He looked back to Optimus and Megatron wrestling against the wall, scraping their metallic frames. He couldn't contact Prime. He had to go. He would be back…
So, he gathered the bot in his arms and made a dash for the cell mouth, exiting off into the hallway. Here, he scurried to another corner and knelt, glancing in the direction of the cell to make sure no one heard his departure. Sensing nothing unusual, Mirage deactivated his camouflage cloak, finally revealing to his optics the limp bot in his hands.
"Bumblebee," he murmured. "Can you hear me?"
The bot mustered nothing this time.
Mirage tried again. "Bumblebee?"
This time, the mechling suppressed a tiny groan, one small hand sliding to grip one of his guardian's fingers. The grasp was weak, loose, but it was something. Mirage thumbed a yellow foreplate.
"You'll be okay," he assured, flinching at the sounds of laser fire behind him.
He thought he felt Bumblebee jolt.
At instinct, he brought the mechbot to his chestplate. Bumblebee lay limp, allowing Mirage's hands to readjust his frame. The bot could barely angle his head toward the stroking. A dying whimper left his throat with a tiny breath. Mirage grimaced.
"Shh, shh, shh," he soothed. "No more of that."
'Bee moaned.
He opened his mouth to speak, but was interjected by further gun fire. Metal clashed. A mech collapsed; He was unaware who it was that went down. No one was speaking, no one was laughing. Mirage glanced over his shoulder, an audio perking at the sound of building laser discharge, electricity crackling, warming. After astroseconds, finally, it was detonated, held for seconds upon seconds…
And all was silent.
Mirage gulped. Who had gone down? Who was defeated?
His fingers trembled. He stood, slowly making his return to the cell.
On the short trip there, he only wondered.
If it was Optimus who was defeated, should he blame himself?
After all, he wasn't there to aid him.
As you can see, I'm very fond of cliffhangers in my stories.
Please review.
