Author's Note: Here's another chapter. I'm curious to hear how you guys are taking to it, but I have yet to hear any complaints so I guess those who are reading it are enjoying it thus far. It's amazing that, in its original draft, this would have been the last chapter. But, four years has definitely changed both myself and the course of this story. I hope you guys don't mind sticking with me until the end, because we are not quite yet to the half way mark. Anyway, sorry for rambling. Here is the next chapter in Fighting For Nothing. Enjoy!


Chapter 19

It took them quite some time to get Ratchet to respond to any of their attempts to comm. him. Ratchet, like the other Autobots on Earth, was following Optimus' instructions to the letter and not making contact with anyone. It took Bumblebee a few Earth days to even unearth Ratchet's spark signature, and Bumblebee was the Autobots' best scout. He had spent almost his entire existence tracking things, though, and knew all of the Autobots methods of hiding; he had even made some of them up himself. Once he had been able to find Ratchet, it was still an issue getting in contact with him. The medic was like a brick wall.

Bumblebee and Sam had a much easier time getting in contact with the other Autobots. Blaster was glad to be in contact with someone friendly, chattering endlessly to Bumblebee until he could finally tell the communications officer what the issue was. The generally light-hearted mech had gone dead silent for a while, before sending his coordinates to Bee. He was not too far from their location at the time, having taken refuge out in an abandoned bomb shelter in the desert. It was a day of driving before they located his base. What they found was almost laughable to Sam: a complete chaotic mess of wires and equipment, walls of various memorabilia, and likely hundreds of speakers.

"Welcome to my humble abode, kiddos!" Blaster had greeted from where he was hooked up to tons of wires, looking almost lost amongst them. He was largely unharmed, though. "Too bad we couldn't meet up again under better circumstances." The wires fell away as Sam and Bee made their way through the maze of junk, revealing the bright red mech to them. "Got a couple of my symbiotes out on the prowl. They should be back soon. Sent Steeljaw out to try and get a hold of old Hatchet, maybe talk some sense into him. Rewind and Eject are lookin' for the others."

Sam was looking about the mech's collection when he caught on to the last part, the words causing him pause. "What? Blaster, we can't have all of them coming to one place. Not with us being hunted right now. That's exactly what they would want!" He threw his arms up in exasperation, looking to Bumblebee who was not quite as annoyed by this knowledge as he was. In fact, Bee seemed on board with the idea. "You can't be serious. Bee, this is exactly what Optimus said not to do."

"What're we doing right now, Sam? The very same thing." Bumblebee pointed out, moving to stand by Blaster as the mech brushed some of the wires aside. "We are better prepared if we all are together. We must stick together. Sometimes we have to go against orders. If we want to save Optimus, and ourselves, we have to do this."

Sam stared at the other, who had been his closest friend for more than half of the time he had been alive now. Bumblebee stood strong, servos clenched firmly at his sides. The scout waited until Sam gave him a quick nod before turning to Blaster and discussing the plan to get to Optimus. It was odd to think that Bumblebee was only a scout with how easily he took charge. There was no guarantee that the others would follow his lead, but Sam saw the other's potential. Had he not known the nature of Bee's connection to the Prime, he would have thought that Bumblebee was actually the progeny of the Prime with the similarities he saw from him now. Bumblebee adopted that same steady look and firm voice that Optimus had when addressing his soldiers just then. His stance was not playful as it usually was, but one of someone on a mission. He seemed almost unrecognizable.

"- sound good, Sam? Sam?" Bee pulled him from his thoughts, Sam's attention snapping back to the other. Bee raised an optic ridge at Sam as he moved to climb up some of the shelving beside the console Blaster and Bee were looking at.

"Yeah," Sam answered, leaning against Bumblebee's arm.

"Once we find Ratch, he's gonna look ya over, 'kay? Then hopefully Bee can help us locate OP and we can get Ratch to him before the humans get him." Blaster further explained, catching on to the fact that Sam obviously did not know anything about what he said was sounding good.

"Blaster thinks Steeljaw will have an easier time getting Ratchet to come out of hiding. We're waiting on word from…"

. . .

Rewind and Eject found Hound easily. The cheery recon specialist gladly followed them back to the makeshift base, seeming glad to see the other Autobots. He laughed endlessly at how untidy Blaster's hideout was and quickly set about tidying it up and strengthening its defenses in the process. Sam helped where he could, working alongside Rewind and Eject on some of the more delicate wiring. He was roughly the same size as the symbiotes, which was refreshing. Since they had been avoiding human contact, Sam had gotten used to having to look up when talking with someone else.

They received word from Steeljaw that he had convinced the CMO to come to the base, which set off a sort of impromptu celebration on base. Not surprisingly, Blaster's symbiotes were crazy partiers just like their carrier. Little work got done with Blaster blaring music throughout the base and dancing around with his symbiotes. Eventually Hound gave in, joining in on the fun. He danced like he had two left feet, though, falling over more than once. The sight of Blaster's symbiotes scattering whenever Hound started to wobble dangerously brought a warm smile to Sam's face, one he often found mirrored on Bee. Anyone looking at them would not have been able to guess how poor their situation actually was.

Drift actually found them before Steeljaw and Ratchet made it back. Rewind and Eject were more than a bit embarrassed when the mech simply walked into their base, one optic ridge raised as they scrambled away to Blaster. He said nothing, simply nodding in greeting to everyone before going off to find a more secluded part to rest. Bee had just shrugged as Sam watched the goings on curiously and gone back to work. Drift had not spoken to many of them before basically getting evicted, so Bee did not expect him to act any differently. Sam was better at telling when something was wrong, though. He always had a sort of sixth sense when it came to those sort of things. He had to with everything that happened to him in his short lifetime. So he waited until there was a lull in the work, and then went to figure out exactly what was wrong.

He found Drift cleaning his largest sword almost tenderly with a large cloth, the other two set neatly aside. Sam was a bit shocked by the size of the sword Drift was holding, having only glimpsed it on the other's back a few times before. Sam watched him quietly for a moment before speaking up, "Hey, uh, Drift. How're you doin'?" He nearly smacked himself in the face at how sheepish he sounded, but did not. He simply stood there, awaiting a response as the other continued to clean and polish his blade. "That's quite a sword you got there."

Drift finally spoke then, not looking up from his blade while he did. "It is the Greatsword, an ancient Cybertronian relic. It-"

"Draws off of the user's spark energy." Sam finished for the other, actually smacking a hand over his mouth this time. The one time he actually gets Drift to talk, and he interrupted him. "Sorry." He apologized quickly, rubbing at his scruff bar a bit awkwardly. "That happens sometimes. Don't mean it to. Side effect of the being in contact with the allspark for so long. Not nearly as bad as when I was in college. I would just go into these fits where I'd write a bunch of nonsense in Cybertronian; even did it once…" Sam trailed off, noticing the slight raise of Drift's optic ridge as the mech listened patiently. "Sorry."

"You are very anxious." Drift responded simply, setting the cloth aside at last. "It is generally a good trait in a soldier; keeps them on their toes. But, you are no soldier." This was not said condescendingly. It was simply a statement of fact as Drift sheathed the Greatsword. The white mech leaned down a bit more so Sam did not have to crane his neck as much before continuing to speak. "I am anxious, too. We are severely outnumbered here, and have lost many valuable fighters recently to enemies we once vowed to protect. Enemies in possession of great long range weapons."

"And you don't use guns or shields," Sam muttered, realizing just how frightening this could be for Drift were he to react a moment too late.

"Once, when I was a much different mech, I did. But I have since realized the error of my ways, and refuse to take a life like that again. I chose a nobler path, which does unfortunately put me in a bit more danger." He grabbed one of the blades to his side, holding it up for Sam to see. "Cybertronian steel does not dull easily like your metals do on Earth, but I still make sure to sharpen them because blades are an extension of yourself when fighting. Would you, as a human, have worked out only one arm? It would be impractical. It would also be stupid to not use all of your assets, Sam."

The small mech looked confused by that, blinking. "Well, of course. But, what assets are you-"

There was a rather loud crash from the other side of the base and shouting. Drift was up in an instant, pushing Sam back behind him. Sam knew all too well what a mech looked like when running battle protocols, and could tell by the firm grip on the blades and the set of his shoulder struts that Drift's were running full force. He could hear Drift's vents kicking in full force, ready to compensate for the overheating that came with battle. There were no explosions, and there was not any shooting. Simply more shouting.

"Sam!" The voice was followed by a rather gruff looking medic coming around the nearby shelving, usually pristine bright paint now scratched and dinged. But, aside from that, Ratchet seemed relatively unharmed, and extremely annoyed. Bumblebee and Blaster were on his heels, each sporting a nice new dent. "Out of the way, Drift!" Ratchet barked, glaring as the mech put his swords away and easily stepped aside.

:We may finish our talk later. I believe Ratchet wants you.: Drift sent over the comm. quickly as Ratchet approached and immediately set to scanning Sam. :Perhaps to figure out the obvious.: The silent mech slipped away then, pushing by the timid mechs who had followed Ratchet in.

"It's good to see you, too, Ratchet." Sam said, actually meaning it although his tone made it seem like he did not. He offered a grin to the medic, who merely grunted at him. He waited patiently as Ratchet seemed to finally relax a bit, reaching down to offer him a lift. "Everything all good, Ratchet?"

"It seems that there were some… unexpected side effects from your attempt at suicide." Ratchet mumbled, turning around with Sam sitting in the palm of his servo. He walked passed Blaster ad Bumblebee, throwing an expectant look Bee's way. The scout fell in behind them, not saying a word. They moved to a separate alcove of shelter that everyone had been using recently to recharge, which stayed empty otherwise. There was a heavy sense of apprehension in the air, sending Sam's on spark racing a bit in worry. Just when he had thought he was used to all of the changes that had happened to himself, a curve ball got thrown at him. He had a sneaking suspicion as to what it was, but he hated to think of what it could possibly mean.

Bee shut the door to the area behind them before Ratchet spoke, setting Sam on a makeshift berth in the room. "I need to know exactly what happened during the incident with Bumblebee. And Ironhide for that matter. Just so I can get an idea of the circumstances that bring about these… bursts of allspark energy."

"So it is allspark energy?" Bee asked before Sam could speak, having suspected as much. But what that meant for them was both good and bad. They would need to keep it quiet.

"Yes, it is allspark energy." Ratchet said, voice a bit sharp and on edge. "It seems that he is generating allspark energy, and occasionally it is released in bursts to do what you said it did before. It may be possible for him to get it under-control, but to do that, we would first have to be able to understand how it works. So, explain what has happened whenever it does happen."

. . .

They had received nothing but silence from the Earth after the news that Ironhide, Mudflap, and Skids had been murdered. Prowl had struggled at the time to keep everyone from rushing back to Earth to avenge their fallen comrades. The twins led the charge, threatening to take him down in order to get to Earth. The Wreckers had backed the eagerly, rallying nearly everyone else to want to go with them. It had been left to him and Jolt to convince them not to do this. Prowl had been ready to fight for his life when the field medic had come forward and began to try and calm the crowd.

"What would Optimus say if he saw us?" Jolt had yelled above the shouting, everyone's attention snapping to him. He stood before Prowl, electro-whips at his side and crackling loudly. "Is this how you think he would want us to act? Like barbarians? If we go out there now and attack them, then we are no better than the 'Cons! Is that what we have come to?" His optics were alight with fury as he gestured a bit wildly, whips snapping through the air. Bots stepped back cautiously, some looking a bit sheepish at the accusation. The twins were still at the ready, though; Prowl suspected it would take more than a few sharp words to stop them.

Jolt was not deterred by their still unyielding behavior. He stepped forward so he was directly before them, looking the mechs dead in the optics. "If you leave, you are no better than all of the gossips say you to be." Jolt said softly, tone firm. He watched as the twins both ground their denta together, shoulder struts squaring. "We all want revenge, but this is not how to go about it. Now is not the time for fighting. We need to stand together and be ready for Optimus Prime's call. It will come. Until then, we have to wait."

"And if the rest of them die and we never get that call?" Sunstreaker snapped, blade at his side scraping the floor lightly. "We will have lost all of them, then!"

"That isn't going to happen, though!" Jolt yelled right back, pushing Sunstreaker square in the chest and startling everyone there. Sideswipe grabbed the medic quickly, placing his blade square against his throat. Guns were out and pointed in all directions, and Prowl himself was at a loss for words. He had his own gun out pointed directly at Sideswipe, watching as Sunstreaker looked about the crowd. "Do it, and you're down a medic." The electric blue medic growled out.

"… He has a point." Sunstreaker said, voice barely above a whisper but immediately drawing the attention of everyone to him.

"What?" Sideswipe whipped to face his twin, optic ridges high in shock.

"Don't make me repeat myself," The gold twin ground out. He retracted his own blades, staring at Sideswipe expectantly until he backed away from jolt and retracted his own blades. Prowl marveled at how the twos rolls appeared to be reversed. Sideswipe was usually the levelheaded one, while Sunstreaker had always been the erratic twin. He put his gun away and moved to Jolt's side, patting the medic on the back as he rubbed his throat. "We will wait. Eventually we have to hear something." There was a small murmur of agreement from everyone else before they began to scatter away.

"You could have gotten yourself killed," Prowl scolded the young mech. This was met by a smirk as Jolt retracted his whips, shrugging. "Is that it? Do you have no regard for your own safety? Or your importance to the Autobot cause currently?"

Jolt shook his head. "It isn't that." Jolt said, laughing as Prowl raised an optic ridge at that. "It really isn't. I know I'm the only medic here, so of course I am important. But, I just… had a feeling that it'd work out. A gut feeling, I guess. Ratchet says it'll get me killed one day."

Prowl sighed, shaking his helm. "I fear that he is not wrong about that."