Disclaimer: Not mine!
A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting. This chapter is a bit angsty, and was difficult to get written. Still, please review and tell me what you think.
- Chapter 8 -
I spent a fair amount of time with Vector over the next few days, mostly because neither of us had much to do at the moment, so we banded together to relieve the boredom. Also, the other Autobots were still not quite sure what to do about me, and all of the officers except Magnus had gone back to Earth. So I could either hang out with Vector, or pester Magnus until he started making pointed comments about how I had certain personality traits in common with his brother. Not that it was a hardship to hang out with Vector - he was actually quite fun, if a bit socially inept. I chalked that up to his age, as he seemed to be equivalent to a human pre-teen - a rather innocent pre-teen, as he proved one day when we were watching Cliffjumper on the firing range.
"What does 'frag' mean?" The question from Vector was entirely unexpected as Cliffjumper missed his target and started cursing. I simply stared at Vector for a moment once his question registered, and then I chuckled.
"Oh my. There have been some gaps in your education, haven't there?" I said, and Vector gave me a curious look. I spent the rest of the afternoon explaining cursing to him, and listing off curse words and phrases. I recommended that he not use them until he got a feel for them, suggesting listening to the other Autobots first for appropriate usage, and then someone like Magnus for quantity of usage, as opposed to Ironhide (or me). Vector absorbed it like a sponge, and took my advice to spark. I felt like a proud mother a few days later when he flawlessly started slipping 'frag's, 'glitch's, and 'slag's into his vocabulary. I doubt anyone else noticed it, but I was terribly amused by it.
Our fun was ruined after a week, though - Prowl, visiting from Earth, commented in front of Magnus that he was surprised we hadn't found anything to do, and afterwards, Magnus made a suggestion that maybe Vector and I could do some 'odd jobs' around the base. I pouted a bit, but I knew it was fair, and between me now being Cybertronian in form, and Vector's presence, any of Magnus's feared possible negative backlash from the Autobots that weren't cleared to go to Earth was essentially negated. Most of the odd jobs Magnus found for us were simple enough, anyways. Mostly errand running, or - since Vector had a larger frame and good hydraulics to go behind it - moving supplies around.
Our moving of supplies was how we found The Lounge. Technically it was just spare storage space right now, intended to be converted to VIP quarters once the base was more finished. To Vector and I, that seemed like an awful waste of the space. It was a half-dome in shape, with large windows that looked out over Ganymede, the only part of the base visible being part of the airfield, where the Ark still rested. The windows had some odd breaks in them, since the area was intended to be split into two or three human-height levels, but the breaks didn't detract from the view.
"With some chairs and the right coat of paint, this could make an awesome lounge." My comment was what started The Lounge, voiced after Vector and I had packed away some items we'd be given to put into storage in the room.
"Lounge?" Vector asked curiously.
"Sort of a relaxed, classier version of a bar. More expensive drinks, soothing music, and dim lighting to make it seem all intimate. Some place where you can go with friends to have a quiet conversation and a few drinks after work and unwind. If you're into the quiet thing," I explained. "I'm thinking, booths by the windows, with some type of decoration between them - plants, or maybe crystals or something for you guys. Tables in the center of the room, couches along the back with coffee tables, some arranged into bigger seating areas for larger groups. Maybe an energon dispenser by the door there. Dim the lights, install some speakers for some relaxing music, give it a darker coat of paint - it would be perfect!"
"I didn't know you were an interior designer," Vector said with a grin.
"I'm not," I said wryly. "It actually reminds me of a lounge back home - they had a grand piano in the middle with a singer, and the back wall was half bar, but it was a semi-circle just like this. I spent all my spare time for a few weeks in that lounge - at one point." I stopped myself from saying that I'd spent it studying for a midterm. For some reason, the lounge back home - my real home - had been particularly good for studying Ancient Greek.
"Well, you're the one with an in with the base commander, maybe you should suggest a change of purpose for the space." Vector said with a smirk. I'm not sure he entirely understood the Cybertronian 'birds and the bees' yet, but he knew about choosing mates, and understood that Magnus and I were close enough to a pair in that regard. He was also getting frighteningly good at innuendo, and I suspected the other mechs on base had something to do with that. I suspected the innuendo worked so well because most of what he heard was aimed at Magnus and I in the first place, but hey.
Regardless, I did actually bring up the idea with Magnus, and he said he'd think about it. Which, of course, meant that he'd confer with Prowl, who was the one that had designed the Ganymede base. Prowl evidently saw something of merit in the idea, as when he visited Ganymede for what I was quickly realizing was his weekly status report, he asked Vector and I to show him the room and explain what we had in mind.
Vector and I had been perfecting the design for it over the past few days, as it happened. We'd been hoping for a favourable response, but it was also something to keep us entertained as we ran around doing our 'odd jobs'. So we had plenty of ideas for Prowl, including how to make it friendly to both humans and Cybertronians, something which seemed to tip it over the edge for him, going from 'interesting prospect' to 'good idea'. He said he knew a different place they could put VIP quarters, and put us in charge of seeing that The Lounge got constructed.
"Wait, what?" I yelped when he dropped that on us.
"It's your idea. I hardly think anyone else could do it justice. Besides, between the two of you, I'm sure you'll be better able to come up with a space acceptable to both humans and Cybertronians," Prowl explained logically. Never mind the fact that Vector had no idea what a modern Cybertronian would like, and I was a bit of an odd-ball for a human.
"But - how?" I asked, looking around in dismay. I could do the planning, sure, but actually putting it together? I only knew where the paint was kept around here because I'd had to put some away, and I had no idea where most of the stuff even came from in the first place.
"Requisition the materials and mechs you require from Ultra Magnus, then arrange them as you described," Prowl said, looking amused. "I'm sure you'll have no trouble." He was gone before I could protest more.
"I'm never coming up with a good idea ever again," I told Vector solemnly, and he snickered.
"Right," he said, then suddenly frowned. "Wait. This means we're going to have to move all this stuff back out, aren't we?" I groaned as I realized he was right, and we turned to look mournfully at all the supplies we'd recently had to store in the room.
Magnus, at least, was more helpful than Prowl once we got down to business. He helped a fair bit in figuring out what and who we would need, dropping our 'odd job do-ers' status so we could work on The Lounge - the name had become pretty much official, once it got around what Vector and I were doing. Also, mechs started stopping by with suggestions. Many of the ideas we discarded, already having a set vision of the place, but some of them helped. Sunstreaker, visiting with Sideswipe, actually made the very good observation that we had everything set up for group seating, but what if someone wanted to just sit by themselves? We set up a few solitary corners, big enough for only one or two mechs. Sunstreaker didn't stop by again to approve of the new little cubbyholes, but considering that one of them had a beautiful view of both Ganymede and the room itself, I figured he would appreciate them.
We'd finished the first week of work on The Lounge, with most of the framework done and the decorations left, when Optimus called a meeting. He did that a lot, actually, but this one Vector and I were invited to, and the officers bridged in from Earth to hold it on Ganymede, so I figured it was something important, relating to my trip to the future. Fortunately, this time we didn't have to squeeze into a small conference room without enough seating - the larger conference room had been finished this last week, and we settled into it with room to spare.
"We have a problem," was Optimus's opening comment once we were all seated. Walking to the front of the room, hit activated a large screen on the wall there, and it began displaying a video, featuring what looked like your typical human interrogation room, with a guy in army fatigues looking a bit wild-eyed sitting in a chair, a table in front of him with a plate of donuts and a coffee. He wasn't cuffed, but there was no one in the room with him, questions being asked through a speaker on the wall. At first they were just basic questions - name (John Samson), rank (corporal in the USAF), division (NEST), birthday (October 4th), etc. Then they got into the interesting questions, which were apparently about something he saw.
"It was so - so huge! And black, entirely black, maybe metal I don't know. It was like the Decepticon from hell - it was even on fire. Fire from it's eyes, from its chest, all over. But it was so, sosososo, so cold. And it's eyes -" The corporal shuddered. "It destroyed the entire block. Just looked at it and the block blew up, everyone still inside screaming - and the screams! They weren't normal, they were unholy, as if they were being dragged down to hell." He shuddered again.
"Did the Decepticon give you a name?" the voice asked.
"Oh no, nonononono, you don't understand, it wasn't a Decepticon. It was like one, but it was far more evil. The Decepticons, they're just fighting for their side of a war, y'know? But this thing? It was just killing because it could. Because it wanted to. There was nothing personal, it was just destroying things. Like it had a bad day and wanted to squish some ants to feel better," the corporal said earnestly.
"And it didn't given you a name?" the voice said curiously.
"It - it called itself -" the corporal suddenly broke off, going into convulsions, and started spouting gibberish, which sounded vaguely like Cybertronian. Two heavily armored men entered the room and subdued him, and just before the camera shut off, he looked straight at the camera and whispered something. The screen went black, and there was silence in the room for the moment.
"He gave the name at the end. He said it was -"
"The Fallen," I whispered, still staring at the screen in shock, only vaguely aware that I now had the attention of the entire room.
"Yes, exactly," Optimus confirmed with a frown. "Which was why Corporal Samson's superior's initially dismissed his account - he's been a part of NEST since before the events in Egypt, and they figured it was post-traumatic stress. They had trouble ignoring the block of San Francisco that was destroyed, however."
"San Francisco?" I asked, snapping my gaze to Optimus, who nodded.
"The disturbance your sensors picked up. Corporal Samson was on vacation there, when this Cybertronian showed up, destroyed a block of the city, and then disappeared. The only reason we heard about it was because Prowl started asking questions about the specific time and place your sensor logs provided him with," Optimus said.
"I realized there was something unusual when an entire block of unconnected buildings, right at the co-ordinates you provided, supposedly spontaneously imploded without damaging any other buildings. The government blamed it on structural failure caused by earthquakes, but the buildings on that block weren't all built by the same company, or even at the same time, and similar buildings nearby were completely fine," Prowl put in.
"So? Optimus killed the Fallen. Maybe this Samson guy got glitched and blew them up himself," Ironhide said with a frown. Optimus looked hesitant.
"The Fallen Optimus killed wasn't actually the Fallen," I said for him, and Optimus nodded.
"He just took the name to inspire fear. Gradually, over time, the one he took the name from dropped out of common knowledge, and the Fallen Prime became known as the Fallen," Optimus said.
"How do you know this?" Ironhide demanded, turning to me. I stared up at him.
"I don't. Know that, at least. I just know who the Fallen that is black and on fire is," I said.
"And who is he?" Ironhide asked. I glanced at Optimus, who looked back at me. We both seemed reluctant to say it.
"He's the herald of Unicron," Optimus said finally.
"Unicron doesn't exist," Prowl said, seeming automatic. Vector snorted.
"Like frag he doesn't," he said, and all attention turned to him.
"You've seen Unicron?" I asked him, oddly amused.
"Well, yeah. All of the first thirteen have," Vector said in a 'no duh' tone of voice.
"You're one of the first thirteen?" Optimus asked blankly. Vector suddenly went very still.
"Oops," he said in a small voice. Optimus sighed.
"Well, it's not like most historians haven't already theorized that you are," he said. "Be glad you let that slip here, among friends." Vector squirmed in his chair. Apparently he wasn't supposed to share that little tidbit.
"Wait, so according to my recently learned Cybertronian history, if you're one of the first thirteen, your jump here was your first time jump, and you're only three vorns old..." I trailed off. "The only other Cybertronians you met before us were the other twelve of the first thirteen, weren't they?"
"Yeah," Vector seemed to shrink in his chair.
"Oi vey," I said with a sigh, much of Vector's social ineptitude - and his lack of knowledge about curses - suddenly making sense. I wondered briefly if this meant I'd essentially introduced cursing to the Cybertronian people. Wouldn't Ironhide love that if he found out.
"Getting back to the topic at hand..." Optimus said, and attention returned to him. "If this tape is to be believed, which there is no reason not to, then the Fallen is on Earth somewhere, hiding. And if he's here, then that means Unicron isn't far."
"Which brings me to ask how the human race is going to survive long enough to blow itself up," I observed.
"I don't know. But I suspect all our theories from earlier may have just been debunked," Optimus said seriously, then turned to look at me. "None of our instruments, or the humans, picked up the bridge opening in San Francisco. Yet your body, halfway across the country, picked it up. Why?"
"I haven't the foggiest," I said. "But it certainly does suggest that there's something more to this situation that we're not getting."
"Indeed it does." Optimus said seriously. "Vector, I'm afraid fixing your time bridge has suddenly become a secondary priority. We need to find the Fallen and figure out what he's up to."
"Understandable," Vector said with a nod, then hesitated before adding. "Out of curiosity, you wouldn't happen to know where the Herald is?"
"We just established we need to find the Fallen," I commented.
"No, the Herald," Vector said, stressing the capital. I wasn't the only one that looked at him blankly. Vector sighed. "The Fallen's counterpart. Of the first thirteen, the Herald came online first, and the Fallen second. The Herald was the chosen of Primus, and the first Prime. She created the Matrix of Leadership, to pass on to future Primes. How has this been lost to history?" Vector seemed quite upset that we didn't know this, and Optimus shook his head.
"The Matrix has been...damaged over the years. The information in it is fragmented, at best. I suspect the Fallen Prime may have corrupted it," Optimus said. Vector frowned.
"Ok, alternate reality confusion moment. I thought you didn't become a Prime until you had the Matrix," I said, interrupting before I got completely lost in this discussion.
"No, anyone can become a Prime. You just need the proper upgrades, which only a select few Cybertronians can build - or the Matrix can provide," Optimus said.
"Oh. So you can be a Prime without the Matrix, but you can't have the Matrix without being a Prime?" I asked, and Optimus nodded.
"Hence how Vector is a Prime, but I have the Matrix, and how I was Prime while the Matrix was hidden here on Earth," he said.
"Ok, confusion over, I get it now," I said with a nod. "Back to our discussion about this Herald femme."
"Yes, back to that. This Herald - would she be able to find the Fallen?" Optimus asked Vector.
"Of course, they were made to fight each other. Primus and Unicron could never fight openly without destroying the universe, but their avatars could. The Herald and the Fallen have clashed countless times. It's rather irritating, they destroyed a nice crystal garden the orn before I left," Vector replied.
"So the question is, where did she go between your time and ours?" Optimus said with a frown. Vector shrugged.
"Er..." Ironhide shifted uncomfortably, and everyone's attention turned to him. "I'm gonna make myself feel really old here, but I actually remember hearing about this femme. The story I heard when I was still a younglin' was that she took off into the cosmos after the Fallen, and was never heard from again."
"Why would she pursue him? Her goal has always been to get the Fallen to leave, and with him, his master," Vector said with a frown. Ironhide shrugged.
"Dunno, that's just the story I heard when I was young. Never saw her m'self," he said. Vector's frown deepened.
"Do you have an image of her? We've been wandering a long time, and come across more than a few mechanoids who we didn't know. Perhaps we saw her and just didn't know," Optimus suggested. Vector thought for a moment, then we all received a message from him. Though I didn't expect to recognize her, I opened the file anyways and had a look.
A golden femme was in the image, laughing at something a crimson red mech was saying. There was no way to tell size, but judging from the perspective, they were both shorter than Vector - assuming he'd taken the picture. I found myself more interested in the background - I hadn't seen any good images of Cybertron, and the background of the image was showing the full beauty of the planet. A few crystalline structures, like trees and yet not, stretching to the sky. The ground was metallic, and yet it didn't look cold and rough, it looked warm, like soil, and seemed soft enough that the footprints of the mech and femme were visible, though they seemed to be fading fast. I wondered if that meant the ground was essentially spongy metal, and how the heck that worked. I debated asking Vector, but decided against it as I turned my attention away from the picture, to the rest of the room, where the mechs were just beginning to stir.
"She doesn't seem familiar," Ratchet said with a shake of his head.
"No, she doesn't," Optimus said with a sigh. "We're on our own, then. Just as well. Megatron would likely want to get his hands on her."
"Speaking of Megatron, we're gonna have to be slagging careful that he doesn't get wind of the Fallen's presence," Ironhide commented.
"I...don't believe Megatron would ally himself with the Fallen," Optimus said with a frown. "He may be our enemy, but as Corporal Samson said, he's just fighting for his side. He's not necessarily evil. In fact, we may be able to use this to bring him to the negotiating table. Our race has a long history of uniting when threatened from outside."
"I wouldn't be so sure of that, Optimus," Ratchet said with a shake of his head. "I'd rather we find the Fallen on our own. If Megatron catches wind of his presence on his own, fine, but I wouldn't go out of my way to let him know." There was a series of agreements from around the table, barring Vector and I, and Optimus sighed.
"Very well," he said. "Then let us begin searching for the Fallen. Use every resource available to you for this. The sooner we can find him, the better." Nods around the table, and then the meeting was evidently at an end, because everyone rose and headed out. I followed Magnus, while Vector had trotted off after Ironhide, apparently wanting to talk to the only other mech that had even heard of the Herald, so I didn't have a tag-along for once as Magnus went to his office.
"So what do you think of this whole thing?" I asked him once we were inside. Magnus' response was to sit down behind his desk and pull me down into his lap before kissing me soundly. When he drew back, I gave him a curious look.
"I think that everything is getting far to apocalyptic for my comfort," he said seriously, then sighed. "I really wish you had remained human, and were not caught up in all of this."
"Even if I were still human, I'd still be all caught up in this," I pointed out. "Between our relationship and me knowing a few more things than I should, I'd end up involved."
"I suppose," Magnus said with a sigh. "I just wish..."
"I know," I said softly, smiling at him, then reached up to give him a kiss of my own. It turned a little heated, and we were in a full-fledged make-out session by the time the door chimed. Magnus, without even moving - or stopping in sending delightful shocks of electricity along my sensitive shoulder plating - flipped on his intercomm.
"Go away, Optimus," he said.
"Believe me, I'd love to, but I need to speak with Terry," Optimus said dryly over the intercomm.
"She's busy," Magnus replied.
"Really busy," I murmured, uncertain if Optimus would hear me. Judging from how uncomfortable he sounded when he spoke again, he probably did.
"It's important," he said. Magnus pulled back and looked down at me, silently asking me if I wanted him to let Optimus in.
"Oh fine," I said with a sigh, sliding out of Magnus' lap and giving myself a shake to get rid of the lingering affects of having Magnus's full attention. Magnus waited until I nodded before keying open the door, and Optimus entered, looking as embarrassed as a mechanoid can.
"I'm sorry, but I thought it best not to delay this news, and I didn't want to speak of it during the meeting," he said apologetically.
"What is it?" I asked, curious now.
"Prowl went back over our sensor logs for quite a length of time, just to be thorough. He found another similar bridge event in San Francisco - two years and four months ago," Optimus said, pulling out a datapad and handing it to me. "April 15th, at 3:14am." I stared at him for a moment, then activated the datapad and looked down at its contents. It wasn't just a recording of the bridge event, it contained police logs involving yours truly getting tossed in the drunk tank that night, and a few more follow-up reports involving bums coming in to report that I was the devil, because they'd seen me appear out of thin air before stumbling drunkenly down the street.
"OK, interesting, but hardly important," I said after a long moment - it was nice to have the information, but I didn't see why he'd interrupted us for it.
"Wheeljack experimented with inter-reality travel awhile back. He didn't find any practical applications, but he became pretty adept at using the technology to get were he wanted to go before he stopped studying it," Optimus hesitated. "Ratchet is fairly sure that the information Prowl found will be enough for Wheeljack to get you home." I stared at him.
"That's impossible. She's Cybertronian now," Magnus said.
"With a human alt form," Optimus said softly. I looked back down at the pad, not wanting to look over at Magnus.
"Home..." I murmured. I touched the pad lightly, as if it were a portal to my home itself, and then suddenly shook myself. "We don't even know where Wheeljack is, though," I said, handing the datapad back to Optimus.
"No. But we're looking for him, and when we find him the opportunity will be there," he said.
"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. Or not. I don't need to decide now," I said, shaking my head.
"Of course not, but I thought you would appreciate knowing the option is there," Optimus said, nodding to me. "I'll let you absorb it for now - I have other things I need to be doing, unfortunately." Neither Magnus nor I said anything as Optimus left, or after he was gone. We didn't even move, Magnus still in his chair, me standing off to the side, Magnus only visible out of the corner of my optic. I saw the occasional small movement from him, either shifting position or opening his mouth to say something, only deciding better at the last moment. Finally, I just walked out, deciding I needed to be alone to think about this. It was handy that I was Cybertronian now, because as much as the base had been built up, it was still quite small, and I ended up leaving it. I went out the closest airlock, pointed myself at Jupiter, and walked until the base was no longer visible behind me. Then I sat down, creating a puff of lunar dust around me, as I stared at the gas giant ahead of me, my thoughts whirling.
Home. I'd never seriously thought I could go back to it. Of course, I'd never really looked into it, but that was because I figured it was pointless. It was my way - people called me an optimist, because I was always so cheerful with life, but they didn't realize that was because I always expected the worst, so I could be pleasantly surprised when I got better. It was, perhaps, why I'd been able to adapt so easily to everything thus far. I expected, once I woke up in this reality, to spend my life not existing, working as a waitress. Then Magnus showed up, and I was pleasantly surprised. I got a Cybertronian body, and hey, didn't expect that, that's cool. And now, the only thing that could possibly top that - the opportunity to go home. It was like the universe was determined to prove to me that good things did happen.
Though how good this opportunity was, I didn't know. I mean, the thought of home...it tugged at me. It was home - of course I should want to go back there. But it would mean leaving behind everything I knew here - leaving Magnus. I'd built myself a life, because I hadn't expected to be able to return home. And now I was discovering that that hadn't been necessary. Groaning, I flopped back onto the ground, Jupiter still taking up most of my field of vision.
I reminded myself that I didn't have to make a decision about this right away - we didn't even know where Wheeljack was, and besides that, it was Ratchet who said he thought Wheeljack would have enough information to send me home. Who knew how much Ratchet actually knew about the whole process? It could be that Wheeljack wouldn't show up for decades - the future me hadn't given a precise timeline for events - and by then it would either be too late, or he wouldn't be able to get me home.
I realized I was doing it again - making myself think to worst. Frowning, I forced myself to consider what I would do if Wheeljack showed up tomorrow, ready and able to send me home. I spent several minutes just staring up at Jupiter before I realized I couldn't decide - couldn't even think about it. Home called to me, but so did my life here. Family, friends, and an actual record of my existence, versus Magnus, the Autobots, and a war that might end quite horribly. The choice should have been easy. But it wasn't.
A flash of movement caught my optic, and I looked to the side, expecting to see Magnus. I laughed aloud - not that anyone heard it, being in a vacuum - at who it actually was, though.
"So I'm hallucinating now?" I asked over comms, mostly to see if I'd get a reply, as Jazz came to sit by me.
"Let's just say y'got some ties t'th'afterlife that others don't," the silver mech said, surprising and yet not surprising me by replying.
"So I'm hallucinating ghosts," I said, amused.
"Kinda," he said with a shrug. "Whatcha doin' out here?"
"Trying to write a virus to make Optimus think of better things to do the next time he has 'important information' he needs to share with me," I said dryly.
"Ahh, what did the big guy drop on ya?" Jazz asked with a knowing smile.
"Home. Which is pretty impressive, even for him," I said with a sigh. "Apparently I might actually be able to go back."
"An' you're not sure if y'wanna?"
"No. I was so sure I couldn't go back, I didn't even try. Hell, I didn't even contact the Autobots to ask. I just hung out as a waitress."
"An' now you're kickin' yourself for not approaching them an' askin' sooner, before you had ties here."
"I suppose," I said thoughtfully. "I just can't...I mean, it's home. This should be a no-brainer. I should want to go home."
"But y'don't?" Jazz guessed, and I nodded.
"No, I don't," I said softly. "Home was...boring and normal. And I mean, I was fine with that, while I was there. Then I came here, and...I guess I just can't imagine going home again after all this." I paused. "Maybe because I'm in a Cybertronian body, on Ganymede, looking up at Jupiter, and trying to think about it." Jazz laughed at that.
"That would add a bit'a surrealness to it," he said.
"Yeah, kinda," I said. We sat in silence for a bit, and then the silver mech next to me shifted.
"Well, I can save ya some thinkin', if ya want," he offered.
"It won't work?" I guessed.
"Nope. Well, it will, but you can't leave."
"Oh?"
"You have unbreakable ties here now," Jazz said simply. I sat up and turned to look at him fully, frowning.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"You'll figure it out," he said with a grin, and I glared at him. He laughed.
"Why do even my hallucinations mock me? It was bad enough when my future self did it," I grumbled.
"I ain't a hallucination," Jazz said with a chuckle, then reached over and knocked on my helm. "Just tell Prowler he's a cupcake if you don't believe me."
"And what could that possible accomplish?" I asked, curious. The mech just smiled mysteriously, and then sort of wisped out of existence, like campfire smoke. I stared at the spot he'd been sitting for awhile, aware that there was no indentation in the lunar surface, no evidence that he had been there. And yet, somehow, I believed he'd really been there - maybe wanted to believe. Still, there was one way to find out for sure.
"May I help you, Terry?" Prowl was quick to reply to my ping.
"If I called you a cupcake, what would you say?" I asked. There was a long silence, and then Ratchet pinged my comm system. "Ello?"
"What did you say to make Prowl crash?" the medic asked dangerously, and I burst out laughing. Ratchet, disgusted, closed the line on me, and I was left out in Ganymede's wilderness, laughing to myself, until I could get it under control. Once I'd recovered, I stood up, dusted myself off - not that it did much good - and headed back to base. Once inside, I made straight for the med bay, where I found Prowl sitting on one of the berths, listening to Ratchet rant at him about something.
"Hello cupcake!" I greeted Prowl cheerily. I was rather impressed with how fast his systems crashed again. Then Ratchet turned to me, and I ran.
Magnus was waiting for me in his quarters by the time I stopped running from Ratchet (or rather, by the time he gave up on chasing me for the day). It seemed he'd been there awhile, too, because he'd tidied up the place, and had some energon waiting for me. My energy was running rather low after the events of the day, so I gratefully downed the energon in one long gulp. Magnus, watching, didn't even crack a smile like he normally did when I did 'human' things like that, so I turned to him curiously.
"What's up?" I asked.
"You find out you can go home, and you're asking me 'what's up'?" he said incredulously.
"Well yeah. I mean, that's reason for me to get angsty, not you," I pointed out. Magnus frowned.
"Yet you don't seem 'angsty'," he said. "I take it you made a decision?"
"About going home or not, should it turn out to be possible?" I asked, and Magnus nodded. "No." Magnus gave me a confused look. "I don't need to make a decision."
"What do you mean?" Magnus asked, sounding like he was dreading my answer. I frowned, then stepped over to him, resting a hand on his chestplates as I looked him in the optics. I was starting to get an inkling what my ghostly visitor had meant by 'unbreakable ties'.
"I'm not going anywhere," I said, and was enveloped in a hug . I hugged Magnus back, surprised that he actually seemed to be shaking. "Magnus?" I was concerned now. "Are you alright?"
"I am now," he said softly, drawing back. "Terry, I don't know what I would have done if you'd decided to go home."
"It wasn't even an option," I said softly, realizing the truth now - the only reason I'd wanted to go home was because I felt like I should want to go home. There was nothing pulling me there now, though. My family had likely already grieved for me, my friends would have moved on. My life was in this reality, now. "I just...needed some time to finally say goodbye, I guess."
"Good," Magnus said, then kissed me, quite thoroughly derailing my thinking process. He was quite passionate about it, too, and somehow or another we ended up on the berth without me knowing how. We were also quickly passing out of our comfort zone and into territory I usually drew the line at exploring - when panels started opening and cables started appearing, in other words. I figured Magnus was testing the boundaries now that he knew I was sticking around, and I was debating finally letting him push past them, when suddenly he drew away on his own. The look he gave me was far more intense than anything I'd seen on him, and if I'd been human, probably would have had me struggling to breath. As it was, I could feel a few of my internals hitch unexpectedly.
"What?" I asked, my voice embarrassingly mouse-like.
"Bond with me," he said, voice low. I stared at him. I wanted to ask if he was joking, but the look he was giving me said he wasn't.
"I...what?" was all I could finally get out, and I sounded strangled, even to myself. Human-me was panicking, hard.
"Bond your spark to mine, Terry," Magnus said, leaning in closer, until we were almost nose-to-nose. "I love you, and I know you love me as well." I stared at him for a little while longer, then the rising panic burst through. I rolled off the berth and was out the door so fast I'm pretty sure I could've given Blurr a run for his money. I took off down the corridor, ignoring the incessant pinging on my comm system as I made my way to the airlock I'd used earlier today. I was just rounding the corner to it when I crashed into someone else. I was disentangling myself from them when I realized just who I'd run into - Prowl, still on base for his usual weekly status report.
"Er -sorry," I said, then glanced behind me, wondering if Magnus had decided to follow.
"Is something wrong?" Prowl asked with a frown, sounding concerned as he, too, looked behind me.
"No, yes, maybe - kinda? I'm having a really weird day," I said in a rush. Prowl gave me a look, and I snorted. "OK, that's kinda obvious. Not that you even know the half of it, though you probably suspect some of it - or maybe not, I mean maybe that's why you kept crashing, you couldn't come up with a reason for me calling you 'cupcake' or something, I dunno -" I was rambling, but fortunately, Prowl seemed to know how to handle it - he took me by the shoulders, turned me to the airlock, and essentially frog-marched me through. Once outside, my rambling was stopped by the vacuum of space, and I sat down on the ground. Prowl, in a surprisingly un-Prowl-like move, sat down across from me, watching as I stared blankly at the ground.
"Thanks," I said finally, over the comms, once I'd recovered some semblance of coherence. Magnus's incessant pinging of my comm had stopped.
"You're welcome," Prowl said. "Do you want to talk about what had you so worked up?"
"'Who' would be a more appropriate word," I said.
"Magnus," Prowl guessed.
"Yeah. And, I suppose, Optimus and Jazz," I added.
"...Jazz?" Prowl looked confused.
"Yeah, don't ask. Apparently I have 'ties to the afterlife that others don't'," I said, making air quotes and everything, not that Prowl got the gesture. "It's where the 'cupcake' came from."
"Ah," Prowl replied.
"I mean...Optimus and his 'hey you can go home' bombshell was bad enough. Then suddenly I'm seeing a dead mech, who tells me I can't go home after all, and then tells me I have unbreakable ties here which was really confusing right up until Magnus went and asked me to bond with him." I had the feeling that if I was still human, I'd be hyperventilating. "Today has just been a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, and I think I've reached my limit." Prowl was silent for a moment, then stood, holding out a hand to me. I looked up at him, curious, but he just arched an optic ridge at me. I took it, and he tugged me up before letting go and heading back into the base. Guessing that he wanted me to follow, I headed in as well, then followed him as he led me through familiar corridors, eventually ending up in the large conference room.
"What are we doing here?" I asked in confusion.
"Making use of Jazz's so-called 'all-purpose cure'," Prowl replied as he headed for the screen at the head of the room. "Have a seat." Curious, I did so, and a few minutes later, Prowl took the seat next to me, hitting the lights on his way. On the screen, what was clearly the credits for some Cybertronian video started playing.
"You realize I still don't know Cybertronian," I told Prowl.
"I can translate," Prowl said easily. I gave him an amused look, then settled back to watch, and listen to Prowl's translation.
The movie, it turned out, was the Cybertronian equivalent of the Three Stooges or Charlie Chaplain's Tramp movies - really old, really horrible, and consisting of some truly pathetic mechs getting into completely ridiculous situations, and using even more ridiculous methods to get out of those situations. It didn't take long before I was giggling, and soon even Prowl was having problems keeping a straight face. There were a few points where I suspected he was only keeping it together so he could translate for me, and I laughed even harder because of it.
As we neared the end of the film - or rather, films, Prowl had queued up three of them - I heard the door open and close, but I didn't pay any attention, as I had started heckling Prowl's translation, giving my own version, trying to get Prowl to crack up. I was getting close, but the film ended before I managed it, and then I turned my attention to the new arrival in the room - Optimus.
"You may wish to make for cover, Prowl," he said dryly.
"I was planning on it," the tactician replied just as dryly, then bid goodnight to me before leaving the room. I was vaguely amused at how he took Optimus' words to spark, transforming as soon as he got outside and peeling off down the hallway. Then the doors were shut again, and I was left in an conference room alone with Optimus. He held out a datapad.
"What's this?" I asked.
"The codes to a spare set of quarters. Magnus asked me to deliver them," the question was clear in Optimus' voice. I sighed.
"Where is he now?"
"His quarters - Cliffjumper kicked him off the firing range, claiming he was destroying it," Optimus replied. I grimaced.
"Thanks," I said, standing and heading out. I didn't want to, but I grabbed the datapad from Optimus on the way by, just in case. Optimus didn't say anything, but I could feel him watching me as I walked down the corridor. I was glad when I turned the corner.
I wasn't sure if my code would work anymore when I reached Magnus' quarters, but apparently it did, and I entered to chaos. The room was completely torn apart - the only thing that was as I left it was the berth, complete with Magnus on it, only now he was stretched out, in recharge - self-enforced, I suspected, so that he didn't destroy anything else. I sighed, glancing between the berth and the mess, wondering which I should deal with first. Being the chicken that I am, I decided on the mess.
It was hours later when I looked up from my cleaning and realized I was done - everything was as back to normal as I could get it. So I turned to the berth, and after a moment's consideration, headed over to it and crawled into it, snuggling up to Magnus. I knew for certain then that his recharge was forced, because his optics didn't so much as flicker. I didn't really want to wake him, anyways, so I just engaged my own recharge protocols.