Thanks for all the reviews everyone :) This will be the first time in my OC-centric story that we'll get to see things from someone else's POV... I've enjoyed the change of pace, I hope you do too :)
Minutes took hours in my tortured state, but Optimus was there in the sickbay just moments after I suggested asking for Skywarp's help. I think he was being followed by some little men in uniform, but they disappeared. I wasn't in the mood to look at the time. Ratchet began explaining the situation to the taller mech.
"…and we need Skywarp's help. I don't know how this could have happened at all. I've never heard of a known case of live Cybertronian alloys actually thriving in an organic body like this. It will kill her, Optimus. The metal is already becoming invasive, wrapping around her nervous system. It's only a matter of time before it gets into the circulatory system and blocks the flow or breaks off and causes an embolism, which will kill her instantly."
"And you think Skywarp can stop this? I don't remember him being very bright." Optimus sounded skeptical.
"He managed to come up with the technology to start this. He's our best chance at saving this human's life. You know how attached Hotrod and Mirage are to this human," Ratchet was beginning to lower his voice.
"Yes. We have a responsibility to her. It's not her fault she's caught in this mess… We can't bring him here, Ratchet. It will expose the army and might even be seen as treason," Optimus said thoughtfully.
"I agree. He's able to warp, so all we need do is take her far enough away that we don't give away the base, and then contact him." Ratchet didn't sound very certain of this plan, and Optimus heard it too.
"Will she last that long?"
"I don't think we can avoid permanent damage if the growth continues at this rate," Ratchet murmured. I barely heard it over my labored breathing.
"We have to move now. Get her ready to move, I'll put together an escort and warn the humans." Optimus began to move for the door, but I saw the blur through my squinting eyes as Ratchet stopped him.
"You can't come, Optimus. The humans need your leadership. They trust you. They'll overreact when they see Skywarp's teleportation field on the radar."
"Considering the situation, I think it's best if I come. I'll leave Prowl and Mirage here," he began, but Ratchet interrupted him.
"No, we need Mirage's hologram. Someone has to sit with her while we move to the rendezvous."
It was at this point that I began to imagine I could feel the pain creeping up towards my neck and down my spine, so I closed my mind to the world around me and tried to stay strong. They would fix this.
After an eternity I was lifted up and carried. The pressure it put on my arm made me scream; it felt like broken glass was being squeezed around in my arm. Maybe barbed wire would be a more appropriate analogy, I thought dryly. Ratchet had said I had metal growing up my arm.
I heard someone call my name from a distance, or maybe I was just swimming in and out of consciousness, but I thought I heard Hotrod's voice speaking frantically. I was put on something soft and creaky, then lifted and set down again with a jolt. Another scream.
A familiar cologne filled my senses, and I knew Mirage was with me. I reached out my good hand blindly, and I felt him take it immediately. I became aware of his form leaning over me.
"I'm transmitting this to Hotrod, Bravura. He's acting like a child, but he needs to see you. We're moving out now, and soon you'll be all better, ok? We won't let you… we won't let you go. Ratchet's hologram is right here. We'll take care of you."
"Mirage, put this on her fingertip please," said a voice that sounded like Ratchet, minus the metallic resonance of his mech body.
Mirage continued to murmur over me, trying to distract me. I was beginning to shudder, but I couldn't tell if something was happening to me or if I was just losing a grip on my self-control. I felt a rolling nausea begin at my toes and start rising fast.
"I'm gonna throw up…" I whispered, pushing myself upright and intensifying the churning of my stomach. A pail appeared under my nose and I panted, knowing it was coming. I ended up vomiting quite a bit on that trip, to the point where I was simply heaving aching muscles and nothing more would come.
"She's spiking a fever, probably trying to combat the invasive-"
"Give her this shot-" "Is she awake-restart the machine would you?-over her nose and squeeze-"
Everything they said blurred into one loud noise and I fell into true unconsciousness.
Skywarp was screaming at a stadium full of schoolchildren when he got the transmission. At first he ignored it, thinking it was another pesky demand from the Constructicons, but as he began to deliver his "Tell the Autobots to return my property or face the consequences!" speech he realized his software was going berserk. He was receiving an Autobot transmission.
He cut off his speech immediately and began to listen in.
-metal is spreading through her body. Your invention caused this, and we need you to fix it or Bravura will die.
Skywarp felt his functions all lock simultaneously, then got it together and transformed into his alt mode with a leap into the air, blasting into the sky and leaving the stunned human crowd behind.
Where is she? Skywarp demanded. What have you done?
We haven't harmed her. My medical officer discovered a deposit of Cybertronian metal in the arm you healed. It's behaving unexpectedly, and it will soon kill her unless you find a way to stop it. It was Optimus Prime, that old blowhard.
Coordinates!
Not until you agree to a truce for the time being of this crisis. If you try to take her, we will take aggressive action.
Skywarp's engines roared into the open sky. He didn't know what to do. What if this was all a trap, using his beloved Bravura as bait? Primus, he had no choice. He couldn't leave her. She needed him. She would always need him. If she was dying, he had to save her. No matter what, no matter that it would break his pride and rob him of any of the respect he may have had, to come crawling to the Autobots like this. She was more important than that.
Agreed. I will not attack. I will not attempt to take her. Coordinates.
He would have cried with relief, if he'd been enough of a pansy, when the numbers began flowing in through the tenuous contact he had with Prime. He didn't waste any time, powering up his teleportation drive and preparing for the exhilarating jolt of warping, then let the drive go with a kick and disappeared into blackness-
-And out over a wide hilly expanse of scrub. Air condensed around him and then whooshed away in a puff of clouds, which faded in seconds. His scanners swept across the field, and he realized several Autobots were parked directly below him. He cut his engines and broke into a dive, barely breaking the fall enough for his struts and supports to handle it when he transformed and landed on his two bird-like legs.
Of the five Autobots present, three were aiming weapons at him. Skywarp slowly raised his hands, empty of weapons.
"A truce, remember? I'm here to help you, dirt kissers!" Son of a cessna, had he walked into a trap after all?
But then a human rolled a small emergency cart out of the medic, who was still in vehicle mode. As the cart was pushed towards him he realized Bravura was curled up on it, sweat glinting off of her delicate skin covering. The human pushing the stretcher backed away from the stretcher to stand next the one called Mirage, then flickered out. A hologram.
Ratchet transformed, then crouched on one side of the stretcher, gesturing for him to come closer. He did, hesitating first, his battle systems straining to overpower his logic circuits. He controlled himself, and slowly kneeled before his suffering human. She was sleeping or unconscious.
"Do you have any internal scanners?" Ratchet asked him.
"Nothing fancy, enough to make field repairs." Skywarp couldn't take his eyes off the still form on the stretcher.
"It should be enough. Look at her arm as quickly as you can… Energy fields accelerate the process."
Skywarp was loath to do anything that might hurt her, but he didn't have much choice. He activated the shabby attachments in his hand and focused on Bravura.
"Oh slag…"
They were right. Metal had grown into the system of her arm like a vine. The area around the break was lumpy and misshapen, growing infinitesimally as he watched. It was beginning to coat the vertebrae of her spine, starting between her shoulder blades, and the realization struck him that this was the fate of the tracking chip he'd had implanted.
Suddenly her body arched and she let out a soul-shredding screech. He watched in terror as the metal in her arm seemed to boil, the threads along her nervous systems bulging and thinning as they crept along on their destructive path. To his dismay and disgust he watched a tiny tendril stab through her skin into the open air, search blinding, then curl along the curve of her arm, putting down roots as it went.
His focus was ripped apart as Ratchet knocked his arm away from the screaming human. "You're feeding it!" the medic hissed.
Even as he watched with his regular optics he could see her arm twitching and jittering as the metal continued to grow, though the rootlet on her arm seemed to have stopped spreading.
"Primus… this is bad."
"What can we do?" Ratchet snarled. "You started this, you have to finish this before it kills her! She's already lost her arm, but we can't just cut it off because it's already in her spine! What do we do?!"
Skywarp's logic center was fried. He searched and postulated, rejected and tested ideas. His servos were working overtime keeping things straight, but nothing came clear, nothing that would save her.
"I…"
"You need to focus, Skywarp," Prime said from the sidelines. "Except for Perceptor, who may or may not even be on the planet, you're the best chance she has."
Skywarp looked up at Prime mournfully, shame crushing the arrogant show he normally would have put on. "I don't know how. The fact that I got that machine to work at all was a miracle, and I based it off of an experiment Starscream did on some organic molecules off an asteroid, back before the worst of the war. It was all luck."
Skywarp was shocked when the red one, Hotrod, grabbed him by the chest plate and bodily dragged him away from Bravura. Amazing that he had that kind of strength… Skywarp suddenly lost track of his optical sensors when the small Autobot slammed a fist into his face. His optics reconnected quickly and he saw Hotrod going in for another punch, but the weapons specialist, Ironhide, grabbed his fist.
"Come on, kid. We have a truce, remember? I wanna slag him too but this time you've
gotta cool your afterburners."
Hotrod shrugged him off, murder still in his eyes. "You're lucky," he snarled to the Seeker, then turned away, arms crossed.
"You said…" Skywarp was having a hard time making his vocal processors function. "You said that there was another mech who might be able to help."
"We don't know," said Prime. "He hasn't tried to contact us, but we believe he's one of the mechs who crashed into the countries called Russia or Egypt."
"Why would he not contact you?" Skywarp asked, but he knew the answer, and it gave him hope.
"Probably to avoid the attention of the Decepticons on the planet."
"And you haven't contacted him for the same reason?"
Optimus nodded, seeming to begin to catch on.
"What if you didn't have to worry about an attack? What if I promised you I could get him here safely?" Skywarp's spark was straining, optimism battling with dread.
Prime watched him for a long moment, and then looked at the small human moaning softly on the stretcher. He sighed heavily, air rushing out of his vents, then looked back at Skywarp and nodded.
"Order your men to stand down. We'll try to make contact with the newest arrivals. If they're Decepticons can I trust you to take control of the situation?"
Skywarp laughed harshly, then sobered. "Normally I would say no, you can't trust me, but this time… Yes. I'll keep things in hand."
Skywarp opened up his communications system and found Barricade and Frenzy, Thundercracker, and the Constructicons all within a few miles of the base in the mountains. He began his transmission through Thundercracker, since it was easier to connect with his Seeker brother.
Thundercracker, we have a situation. A truce with the Autobots is under effect until further notice. They're going to be sounding out the new arrivals on the other continents, and I swear to Cybertron that if you, or anyone, interferes with that, I'll take him apart and feed him to the sun. Understood?
Not really… but I won't bother anybody.
Good, Relay the message to the others.
Got it.
Skywarp broke the contact and nodded to Prime. Prime stepped away from the loosely gathered group and stared off into the distance. At first Skywarp thought he was wasting time, but then he heard the message loud and clear on the universal emergency frequency.
This is Optimus Prime. My comrades and I know that someone crash-landed on this planet at least three solar cycles ago. A temporary truce has been called. If you can hear me, please respond, Autobot and Decepticon alike. If you are unable to send a transmission, attempt to notify us of your position via the world wide web.
He stopped transmitting, and everybot was silent. The only things audible above the wind were the pitiful sounds of Skywarp's dying human.
Skywarp was slumping with defeat when over a minute passed. Something was wrong, either they were too damaged to respond, or too defensive. He was about to declare his hopelessness when the emergency frequency jumped to life.
This is the Autobot Warpath. Good to hear you, Prime.
Skywarp's spark shivered in his chassis. It wasn't Perceptor. They only had one chance left. Optimus addressed Warpath and began giving him directions to an American military base, presumably while forwarding the information to the military itself. Skywarp sank to the ground, crouching over Bravura once again.
"Poor, poor Bravura… My little skillful one, I'm so sorry for everything."
Th- -tobot Percep-, bliz-d, too –ld. F- -zing tempe-
Skywarp jerked gaze to Optimus, who looked around at the same group. "Who else thinks they heard him say Perceptor?"
"Not just that, coulda sworn he said 'blizzard', Optimus," commented Ironhide, huge arms folded across his chest.
"So he's trapped out there," Hotrod said with certainty.
"It would seem that's the case. Skywarp," Optimus turned to the Seeker. "How much can weight are you able to carry?"
"More than half my weight, in the air. How big is this mech?"
Optimus nodded to himself. "Not large. This should work, but it might be tough. You'll have to be quick, or you'll freeze too."
Perceptor, we need your position. Optimus sent out.
The numbers flooded the transmission, passing much more easily than voice communication. As soon as Skywarp had it, he was on his feet and bounding into more open spaces. "Warn him who's coming to get him!" he growled, then leapt into the sky and transformed. As soon as he felt he was high enough, he powered up his jump drive and warped out of there as fast as he could.