Chapter 6

Movement was seen from the corner of Hannibal's eye. It was Optimus Prime; his arms moving ever-so slightly. His optics began to flicker. He turned his head and viewed his surroundings, as a sense of confusion overcame him. With a quiet groan, he broke free from the metallic braces holding him against the wall. "What happened?" he asked, his voice still shaky from the shut-down. "Spike?" Optimus took a step towards his young human friend, then stopped suddenly. His optics had located the fallen Sparkplug. Despite being a machine made of cold, hard steel, a rush of grief filled his circuits. "Sparkplug," he whispered with sincere sadness.

The other Transformers began to awake and break free of their own restraints, including the Decepticons. "What is the meaning of this?" Megatron roared. "Who dared to take the Decepticons prisoners?" A quick glance around and he noted that not only had his troops been imprisoned, but the Autobots had as well.

"I feel so... funky," Skywarp admitted. "Like I've been hit by a neutron bomb or something." He looked over at fellow Seeker Thundercracker and noticed one wing was broken, with jagged edges along the break and burn marks in several places. "At least I fared better than him," he spoke quietly.

Hannibal turned Spike loose, and began to walk towards where Miles had been left laying. He couldn't believe his eyes. "The bastard's gone," he said, somewhat shocked. "Must've snuck out," he reasoned.

Murdock and the other members of the A-Team made their way into Chamber 4B. "The remaining troops have left the area," Faceman announced, before growing silent. The sheer size of the Transformers- up close- had him awestruck. That sensation didn't last long, however, as he soon saw the slain Witwicky.

Starscream watched as the Autobots slowly gathered around Sparkplug's fallen body, and offered support for Spike. "We should attack them now, mighty Megatron," Starscream whispered. "Destroy them now while they're distracted! We might never be this close again!"

Megatron swayed his arm. "No," he said coldly.

"What? " Starscream yelled, totally shocked by Megatron's remark. "Have your circuits shorted out? Surely, you don't mean to let this opportunity slip by!"

Starscream's voice had carried, causing Optimus Prime and a few others to look up from Sparkplug's body. They got to their feet, and stared hard in Megatron's direction. Without hesitation, they would stand and fight Megatron. Optimus waited for the signal. Megatron noticed Optimus anticipating a conflict, so he shook his head left to right in a 'no' motion. An act of kindness? A showing of mercy? Hardly, Optimus thought, instead certain that the temporary truce was due to the fact that the Decepticons were just as low on energy and weak as the Autobots. Prime kept his optics locked on Megatron for a few seconds longer, waiting for any slight movement or twitch that would indicate some sort of attack method. When none came, he again focused all of his attention on his deceased friend.

Megatron turned to face his troops. "Decepticons," he ordered, "Return to base!" All but Starscream acted immediately. "Is there a problem with your audibles? I said return to base- NOW!" Starscream reluctantly relented and followed the other Decepticons as they departed the Ark. Megatron stood with his back to the Autobots and the humans. He couldn't believe he was walking away like this; he could end this war at this very moment with one clean blast. He dismissed the thought he was getting, as the humans called it, soft. It was a logical and sound decision not to engage in battle with their power levels at such a dangerously low level. Nothing more. "The next time we meet, Optimus," Megatron stated, "The war will continue."

Optimus looked over at Megatron. "Agreed," he said. "Perhaps there's some decency in your circuits after all."

"Bah!" Megatron snapped, before finally taking flight himself and heading for the Decepticon base.

Spike sat at the kitchen table, constantly aware of the new silence since his father's death. Carly did all she could to try and ease his pain, but sometimes she felt as though she was doing so in vain. Spike had become withdrawn, limiting his contact to others and the outside world in general. Most nights were filled with Spike crying until the early hours of the morning, finally falling asleep due to exhaustion. His days seemed to drag on forever. Carly spent as much time with him as she could, while trying to mask her own pain. It hadn't exactly been an easy period for her either. Being kidnapped and being led to believe her life was going to be taken took its toll on the girl.

Pouring himself another shot of whiskey, Spike looked at the clock mounted on the wall above the microwave. He sighed, making a mental note that Carly would be off work in half an hour. Spike admitted to himself that it would be nice of him to have supper ready for her when she stopped by. He simply sighed and downed his drink. He didn't have the energy to cook.

The phone began to ring, but Spike just sat in his chair. After six rings, it finally stopped. A loud knock on his front door followed, but Spike ignored that was well. Even the sound of hearing someone walking into his house did little to excite him.

"I am sorry about your father," the voice stated. His metallic mask was no where near as frightening as it had been upon first glance. "You should take comfort in knowing his death saved countless lives."

"Get out of my house," Spike said, his tone smooth and void of any emotion. "And lock the door behind you."

Destro stood his ground. "I'm not going to lecture you, boy. I don't like you," he admitted. "If you want to sit in this house and drink yourself to death, then so be it." Destro turned and started to leave, not because Spike wished it, but because he simply didn't have the time to sit and chat. "Your father was a brave man. Do not dishonor him by giving up your life."

Spike got up and walked over to Destro, looking him square in the eyes. "What happened to the general?"

Destro smiled, as he took great pleasure in Mayhem's pain. "Ah, yes, Miles," Destro started. "Seems you broke his jaw in two places and dislocated his shoulder. He was released from medical attention just last night." Destro resumed his departure, pausing at the door just long enough to mutter one final phrase. "You better sober up, boy. Miles may be old, but he's a very dangerous man. And I have a feeling he isn't going to forget what you did to him."

"Destro," Spike replied. "You tell him... neither will I."

Later that night, as Spike lay tossing and turning in semi-sleep, Carly left his side and headed downstairs. She had decided to stay the night since she had the following day off from work. As she stretched out on the couch, getting comfortable for some television viewing, she felt something hard beneath her back. Grabbing at it, she discovered it was Spike's journal. Concerned about what Spike's mental state might be, she went against her better judgement and opened it. She flipped through the pages, stopping at the latest entry.

Well, it's been a whole week since dad died. Everyone at the funeral had nice things to say about him. People I didn't expect to show up, like that geeky RobotMaster guy, Donny Finkleberg, was there. G.B. Blackrock showed up with that woman Circuit Breaker. At least that's who I think the woman was; she was dressed in a trench-coat with silver components on her face.

My younger brother Buster and his girlfriend Jessie made it. He even said a few words; until he started crying. Then he had to go and sit back down.

Even the guy known on the street as The Mechanic attended. Not sure what his real name is; don't really care.

Hannibal and the rest of the A-Team weren't able to be there. Said something about a man named Decker who was always hunting them down. Didn't want to risk getting caught. B.A. did send flowers, though.

Still think I should have killed the General when I had the chance, but what's past is past.

All of the Autobots are back to normal, though Wheeljack is still having a problem with his left arm. It's probably all in his head. No sign of Megatron since what happened... which suits me fine.

I've been having the same dream over and over again lately. It's where I'm holding dad as he's dying; but it's different in my dream than how it really happened. Each night when I dream it, we cry a little less. In fact, just last night, I dreamt it again, and that time we didn't cry at all. I think it's my dad's way of helping me realize everything is going to be all right.

I should stop writing and go outside. Do something. I've been drinking the last few days, and I hate it. I finally said to hell with it- I poured out my whiskey bottle shortly before Carly got home tonight.

In a weird way, I can thank Destro for snapping me out of my funk. Though I'll be damned if those words ever come out of my mouth. After he left today, I realized what I was doing to myself wasn't fair to Carly... or Chip... besides, I need to be ready when and if anything ever happens like this again. God forbid.

The highlight of today was when Carly called me from her doctor's office. Seems I'm going to be a daddy... wish my dad was here. We'll just have to make sure our child knows how great of a man his grandpa truly was! If it's a girl, I think we're leaning towards Marie. If it's a boy, I'm pretty sure Carly is going to insist on Daniel.

That'll do it for today.

Carly closed the book and placed it on the coffee table in front of the couch. She turned out the lights and headed back upstairs; she had changed her mind about the television. Quietly, she made her return to the bedroom. Lying next to Spike, she kissed his forehead and reached for his hand. "I love you," she said, closing her eyes.

Spike's hand tightened around Carly's for a brief moment, before returning to its relaxed state. A silent "I love you, too."

The End.