Chapter 28
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers in any way, shape, or form. However, I do own Nightshade. :D
Warning: Mind-frag.
You know the term "When it rains, it pours"? Yeah, getting sick is just like that. Haven't been sick in years and BAM. I've got pneumonia, the flu, and strep, all in one go. Since I'm not allowed out of the house until Sunday, I figured I'd finish this chapter. Blame the flu for the content of this chapter. :D
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Ever since the scare with Starlight, Nightshade had not been able to keep still. Her recharge cycle would not last more than two or three hours at a time. She would check the nursery almost every other cycle, just to make sure that the sparklings were still safe. Ratchet, being the ever caring mate, scanned her within an inch of her life, worried out of his processes. Nightshade had been presenting some strange signs and symptoms, nothing he had ever seen before. Moon Racer thought that Nightshade was just being paranoid. Red Alert blamed it on lack of recharge. Elita and Chromia guessed that the femme was just under-energized and unhappy with the current situation. Poor Ratchet didn't know what was going on. He did his best to find out what, but could come to no solid conclusion. As soon as he thought he had figured it out, she would fritz out and present different signs, and the process would start all over again.
This week, her shift was assigned to work in the med bay, utilizing her training in medicine. Epsilon, the little green and white femme, was in charge of the med bay for the next two orns. Nightshade and Ratchet worked together in the med bay, helping one another with repairs and in handling the torture of the newest batch of rookies, or "fresh energon", as Ratchet called them. The latter was Nightshade's favorite source of entertainment. Nightshade specialized in adapting firewalls and fixing circuits while Ratchet specialized in pretty much everything else that needed to be repaired.
Wheeljack was the one who rebuilt missing parts…not that they had had too many of those cases. He had his own lab (which was conveniently located just down the hall), built specifically for his needs (the walls, ceiling, and floor were made of ten feet of solid, reinforced concrete and plated with six inches of tempered steel). There were two windows: eight feet by two feet of another six inches of bullet and shrapnel proof glass. The mech even had his own ventilation system, just in case there was a breach of some sort. The door was solid, reinforced steel.
Nightshade and Ratchet were just about to finish their shift when -
- a loud BOOM rocked the base, sending Nightshade flying headlong into a wooden cabinet. Ratchet fared no better. He had been on the staircase, headed down from the recovery rooms, when the explosion happened. His face became very familiar with the floor. Ratchet picked himself up off of the floor, helped Nightshade out of the cabinet, and took off toward his friend, his spark twisting in its casing. The solid, reinforced steel door was now bulging out of its frame…which was not a good sign.
"Frag it all to Pit, I'm going to kill him!" Ratchet growled, trying to peer through the windows. The acrid bluish smoke was too thick for his optics to pierce through. He could barely see the shower of sparks that rained down from the ceiling. Bright orange embers burned brightly before being extinguished. The security systems had failed to deploy. Now they had to worry about the risk of fire. Great.
Ratchet swore loudly and waved the others away, slamming his fist on one of the emergency buttons on the wall. Immediately, the room was vented, revealing the scorched remains of the lab. He peeked through one of the windows, his optics darting around desperately. Wheeljack was nowhere to be seen. Ratchet sawed the door open, the entire thing having melted and fused to the door frame itself. He darted in, sealing his ventilation systems and bringing his face mask down. No Wheeljack. Red Alert and two other bots came in, searching for the wayward inventor. Prowl entered shortly, his door wings held high in irritation. A scowl was etched into his normally neutral face.
No luck.
"Guys, what's going on? Hey now, who blew my lab up?! That's my job – "
"WHEELJACK!"
The inventor was standing in the door way, looking over what remained of his lab. He had been on break when he heard the explosion. Prime had almost bellowed Wheeljack's name, but upon seeing the inventor sitting in a booth, had decided not to. Prime then slugged back two more barrels of high grade and added the repairs to the lab to his ever growing list of things to do. With at least a dozen colonists due in the next year, Prime had to finish the civilian half of the base soon, or else everyone would be bunking with someone else.
"What happened in here?"
"I could ask the same of you," Prowl hissed, stamping on a flaming datapad and picking his way through the carnage. Remains of paper blueprints fluttered down from the ceiling. Exposed wires sparked and twitched, buzzing quietly. There was something that vaguely resembled a filing cabinet in one corner and what was once a computer on a desk. Carbon based materials were now roasted to extremely well done, charred remnants of what once was. Not a thing escaped the blast unscathed, not even the lovely fichus tree Nightshade had bought as a gift a few weeks back. Prowl reached over and put a flaming spool of wire out.
"Oh, would you look at that! What explosive results, eh?" Wheeljack said, prodding what remained of an energon cube.
Ratchet's optic twitched at the horrendous pun. He'd been terrified out of his processor for his friend…and said friend was standing in the middle of what looked like a war zone, sipping a cube of energon, looking like nothing had happened. There was a sound like a jet engine revving for take off, then sudden silence. A ceiling panel exploded outwards, sending a shower of electrical discharge down onto the occupants of the room. Ratchet hissed in pain and brushed the plasma from his frame, glaring even more intensely at Wheeljack. The mech shrugged and went outside, cutting the main electrical lines to the lab. The lights flickered out, replaced by soft red light from the emergency back up generators.
"What?" Wheeljack looked mildly offended at the looks he was receiving. It wasn't his fault the lab blew up (this time, at least)! Ratchet growled in annoyance before pinching the bridge of his nasal plate. He counted to ten and back slowly before speaking.
"Explain how this happened."
"You remember how we never finished patching up those wires in the wall? They were somehow dislodged…and they landed near one of the energon test beakers. The energon provided a negatively charged source for the electrons to move to…and then BOOM," Wheeljack said absently, prying apart the singed wires. He gave up and dropped the fizzling bundle onto the table, where another sheet of paper promptly burst into flame. Prowl let out a soft, almost inaudible growl before using a data-pad to put the flames out.
"Energon wouldn't cause that big of an explosion," Ratchet said, thrusting his arms to the side. How did Wheeljack manage to explode something as innocuous as energon? Sure, it may have had a tiny bit of radiation emission, but it still wouldn't explode with a mild electrical current.
"No, it wouldn't. But I added a few extra things…a cup of nitroglycerin, a couple of PETN crystals…just a few basic things," the inventor said, rattling off the ingredients. He was mildly affronted by Ratchet's reaction, which included a solid whack to the side of the head and much berating.
"What did I do wrong?"
"You're lucky we weren't all killed! You aft-headed glitching son of a fraggin' doll…If the door hadn't been shut it could have caused a chain reaction! Primus!"
Ratchet was muttering away, his optics dark as he took in the extensive damages to the lab. And he'd be the one to have to rebuild it. Prime was not going to be happy – he had way too much on his plate at the time. Ratchet's mind wandered away from the task at hand – maybe he could wrestle some of Prime's duties away from him? He snapped back to reality when Wheeljack pried what was left of a holo-cube off of the wall.
"I was only trying to make the energon a little more efficient," Wheeljack said, shrugging his shoulders slightly, picking the melted plastic from his fingers. Ratchet froze and tensed up, slowly turning to face Wheeljack.
"No, Wheeljack. Your access to volatile chemicals has been restricted. You know how close you are to the nursery? You could have injured or killed a roomful of innocent younglings," Ratchet hissed quietly, crossing his arms over his chest. Wheeljack had the decency to look sorry – his ear fins flashed a dull, embarrassed red as he tried to speak and apologize.
"Primus, Ratch', if I would have known that this was going to happen…"
Ratchet merely walked out on his friend. Wheeljack winced. He would have preferred being shouted at by his long time friend, or having something thrown at him, but not being ignored. He sighed heavily and began picking through the remains of his lab. At least the core projects and most important documents had been safely stored in a second room. Guilt surged through his systems as he realized just how close to the nursery he was…the oxygen in the air would have combusted…and if the nursery door had been open… Here Wheeljack shuddered, shaking away the sudden images. He did not want to think of the younglings being harmed. It wasn't even technically his fault – if anyone was to blame, it was the engineers that had built the room.
Firestar gingerly made her way through the room, laying a black hand on Wheeljack's shoulder. He started at the sudden contact, but soon relaxed at her touch. She clucked softly, taking in the mess.
"It'll be alright, Jack," she said soothingly. She wondered vaguely if the same principle of the explosion could be applied to a weapon of some sort, but decided that now was not the time to ask. Wheeljack looked at her, his optics dark in sorrow.
"No, I don't think it will be…I could have killed those little ones."
"But it isn't even your fault, Jack. I'm on break. I'll help you clean up, how about that?"
Even though he wore a mask, Firestar would have sworn that he was smiling.
"Thank you, Firestar."
"You're welcome, Jack."
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Nightshade growled in absolute irritation. Ratchet was severely trying her patience at the moment. With him, it was always her health. Oh, are you alright, love? You look faint, here, sit down and let me run a scan. You're running low on energy, you should get some energon, would you like to go to the med bay? She interrupted herself and rubbed at her cranial unit gently, trying to clear the sudden thoughts away. Ratchet entered the room and his optics brightened upon seeing his mate. However, he did not see the thunderous glare she aimed in his general direction. He was too busy talking about some nonsense in the medical bay, an explosion of some sort, and Wheeljack. Her glare intensified and she sighed heavily, dropping her gaze. At her sigh, Ratchet turned, concern etched into his face plates.
"Night, love, are you alright?"
The self control in Nightshade's computing center began to creak dangerously, the fibers fraying…
"You look faint, love. Here, sit down."
…and then it snapped. She froze and glared a hole into the floor by her foot. Ratchet gently placed a hand on her shoulder, his confusion quite evident on his face plates. He could feel the anger emanating from her half of the bond. Concerned, he tried to speak.
"Night? Please answer me, love. Do you want to go to the med-"
"No."
He fell silent at her word. That simple, one syllable word silenced him. Then he knew something was truly wrong with her. She would never speak to anyone in that cold and hateful tone of voice, much less him. Had he done something wrong?
"Night," he asked tentatively.
"Just leave me alone. Please."
"Nightshade, love, you're shaking," he said gently, pulling her into his arms. She did not budge. Her shaking only grew more noticeable. Nightshade desperately tried to reign in her anger. It was as if though something had taken over her body and she was watching everything from afar. Where had this sudden anger come from? Why was she so angry?
"I am fine," her voice was laced with frustration and anger.
"Nightshade, you aren't fine, you look as though you're about to pass out-"
"I'm fine! What part of that do you not get?!"
"Night, I'm only trying to-"
"No, just stop it! Stop it! I don't care! Just leave me alone! You always hover over me, I'm not a defenseless sparkling! I don't need to sit down, I don't need to go to the med bay, and I don't need to be scanned! I don't need you!"
Heavy silence met her angry words. Ratchet let go of her and backed away, hurt beyond belief. Nightshade looked up at him, her optics brimming with tears. She choked back a sob and ran from the room. By the time Ratchet got to the door and opened it, she was already gone. He searched all of her regular hiding spots – the library, the back of the med bay, and the nursery. She was nowhere to be found. He thought for a second, turning and making his way to Mirage's room. Maybe Mirage would help him.
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Nightshade fled upstairs, past the nursery and past the med bay, past the library and past the occupied offices. Things went by in a blur as she struggled to keep her composure long enough to find an empty room. She came to a halt at the end of the corridor, peeking down the adjoining hallway. She took a left, a vague remembrance of months ago emerging in her computing center. Opening a door and ignoring the puff of dust it sent up, she darted into the stairwell, climbing rapidly. She pushed open the door and stepped out onto the roof, staring up at the roiling clouds. The trees in the distance were swaying, creaking and groaning at the strength of the wind. Everything was grey, grey with the death that came with the winter season.
Sharp, cold air cut through the seams in her armor, making the femme shiver slightly. Winter had descended upon California quickly and suddenly. Nightshade sat on one of the air conditioning units, swinging one leg gently, tapping it against the metal. The wind roared past her audios, the frigid air cutting through her shell. She shivered again and drew her legs up underneath her chin, wiping furiously at her optics.
…He was only trying to help…What have I done?
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Ratchet gave up on trying to find her, and he knew much better than to try and contact her through their comm. Mirage was no help at all, suggesting the same exact places he had searched mere breems before. A few minutes later, he tried to edge into their bond but he failed, his shoulders slumping in pain and defeat as he realized that she had blocked him out. Now he was seated in a chair in the rec. room, having a staring contest with his half-empty barrel of high grade. Crosswise edged through the room quietly, searching for someone he knew. His optics brightened as they alighted on Ratchet's haggard frame.
"Ratchet, how pleasant to see you," Crosswise said, a smile gracing his face plates. He took a seat in front of the medic, his smile disappearing at the sadness radiating from the mech.
"Crosswise," he said quietly, as a way of greeting.
"What's the matter?"
He sighed heavily, picking up his barrel and swirling the contents. Should he tell Crosswise what was going on? The slick fluid inside the barrel sloshed around, creating a small whirlpool in the bottom. Ratchet watched it as it slowly disappeared. Then he did it again before answering Crosswise.
"Nightshade hasn't been herself for the past few days."
"She's probably only tired," Day Lily piped up, sitting down beside Crosswise. Crosswise stared at her. Where had she come from? He ignored the thought and focused his attention on Ratchet, who had suddenly decided that playing with his drink was much more interesting than the topic at hand.
"What's going on? Maybe I can help," Crosswise said, giving Day Lily a mild glare. Day Lily gently slapped his thigh before turning her attention to Ratchet.
"Nightshade snapped at me today. She completely lost it with me. I didn't even say anything. Her temperature was a bit low and she was shaking, and I asked her if she wanted to go to the medical bay…and she started screaming at me," Ratchet admitted quietly, swishing the high grade around once more. Crosswise paused and thought for a few seconds. Nightshade usually had the patience of a temple-guardian. This was completely out of character for the femme.
"Has anything else been happening to her? She doesn't talk to us that much any more," Day Lily inquired, folding her hands on the table top. Then she pulled away, staring down in horror at a sticky spot on the table. Ratchet sighed gently, trying to clear his thoughts. A small smile crossed his face plates as he watched Day Lily furiously scrub at the spot with a rag before setting her hands down. He now knew where Nightshade inherited her periodic obsessive compulsive moments.
"Now that you mention it…ever since Starlight has disappeared, she can't stay still. She can't recharge for very long. I've tried to get her down to the medical bay but she won't listen to me. Sometimes it's completely different – she'll recharge sixteen or more hours at a time…I just can't pinpoint what's wrong with her."
Day Lily stiffened suddenly, her optics narrowing. Crosswise watched on, amused. When Day Lily perked up like that, it meant that she knew something she probably shouldn't have known. His mate may have been a bit scattered with her thoughts, but she was an intelligent one…she probably already knew what was vexing Nightshade.
"Has she been refueling more often?"
"Yes, actually, she has, but-"
"Does she refuse to interface for a few days, then 'jumps' you, so to speak?"
"Uhm…I…don't think that's…appropriate."
"Just answer me."
Crosswise covered his audios. He did not need to know about his daughter's relations with this mech…he preferred to think of his little sparkling as just being friends with the mech, not mates…
"Yes…," he admitted quietly, wincing at the mild glare that Crosswise sent in his direction. What? He'd rather invoke the wrath of Crosswise over invoking Day Lily's wrath.
"How much time does she spend in the nursery?"
"She does double shifts regularly. Day Lily, I don't understand what this has to do with Nightshade's condition-"
"Does she…well. In human terms, it would be called 'spacing out'. We don't really have a term for it…at least a polite one. Anyway. Does she stare off into space often?"
"Yes, but Day Lily, what's going on? I don't understand-"
"I think I do. Where is she?"
Ratchet shrugged helplessly and went back to his drink, peering down into the bottom of his barrel. Maybe he would get some more. Or maybe not, because if Nightshade found out that he had had more than one barrel, he would be sleeping out in the living room for the next orn.
"I've tried communicating with her…and she's even blocked our bond," he muttered dejectedly, swishing around the few droplets that remained in the bottom of the barrel. Crosswise perked up as well, looking at his mate. Their expressions changed subtly. First a slight frown appeared on Crosswise's face and then a sheepish smile from Day Lily finished the silent conversation. Crosswise then settled back in the chair, his face an impassive and neutral mask. Inside, his thoughts were whirling…could it be possible?
Day Lily excused herself and went to find her daughter…but not before making a quick stop at the medical bay.
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"Nightshade, I know you're up here. Come out and talk to me," Day Lily said, shivering in the freezing cold wind. She heard a dejected grumble from somewhere to her left and she turned. Nightshade rose on unsteady legs and made her way over to her mother, a frown on her face.
"Don't slouch, Nightshade. Now what's this I hear about you acting like a spoilt sparkling?"
"I am not acting like a spoilt sparkling…alright, so maybe I am…I just don't know what's wrong with me," she said, trying to defend herself weakly. Day Lily nodded and opened the door, stepping back so that she and her daughter could go back into the warmth and safety of the building.
"Let's talk inside, where it's a bit warmer. Come along."
They were settled into a warm office a few minutes later. Nightshade ungracefully dropped into a chair, her arms and legs strewn where they landed. Daisy perched on the edge of her seat, crossed her legs at the ankle, and gave Nightshade a disapproving sniff. Her etiquette training had all but disappeared upon arriving on the planet.
"Now, Nightshade. Tell me what's going on."
"Ratchet is irritating me," she said bluntly, crossing her arms and shifting in her seat. Day Lily subtly rolled her optics.
"I meant for you to tell me what your symptoms were, darling," Day Lily said, an optic ridge rising slowly.
"Oh…I don't know. I honestly don't know, mother. I can't hold any fuel down any more. I can't recharge. I can't stop shaking and I have the worst mood swings…"
"Hmm…I know this is still a very sensitive topic, Night, but…do you know to what extent your files were corrupted?"
Nightshade suddenly fell silent.
"I-I know they are still there…and I examined them myself…there was only one thing that was completely unsalvageable…my regulator…it's gone completely haywire. It's been at one hundred percent since I...I was attacked...and a few weeks ago, maybe three or four orns, it went to zero. I don't know if it's accurate or not. Ratchet and I just ignored it. We both assumed it was gone…"
"Have you and Ratchet ever discussed raising a sparkling?"
"I've suspected for a while that I might be…but…I don't want to know if…I'm not... I don't think I could take the pain…"
Day Lily nodded and began rummaging around in a compartment in her arm. She removed a handful of credits, placing the hexagonal chips on the table. A series of small trinkets followed – a tiny embroidered bag, Nightshade's dancer's emblem, a few glittering gems, and a minuscule watch.
"Nightshade, you need to be tested. Even if you are not, there is still something wrong with your systems – "
A bag of energon sweets joined the coins on the table and Nightshade pounced on them. She devoured the entire bag in less than a minute, unaware of the triumphant, knowing, smirk on her mother's face. Nightshade sheepishly smiled at her mother, wiping the sticky candy from her fingers. Day Lily pulled a medical scanner from her arm compartment, ignoring Nightshade's questioning stare. Why was she carrying one around?
"Let me scan you, Nightshade. I want to know."
Nightshade nodded and disengaged her scanning block, praying to Primus…
Day Lily flicked the switch on the device on and thoroughly scanned her daughter's abdominal region. Then the machine beeped quietly. Day Lily set it down on the table gingerly, explaining quietly that it would take a few minutes to read the scans. Nightshade's fingers dug into the sides of her chair. The minute hand on the clock on the wall moved ever so slowly, almost taunting her.
It quietly swept around the face of the clock twice. Nightshade started fidgeting slightly, staring at the little scanner. It glinted temptingly in the halogen lights of the room. She settled back in the chair. The hands on the clock made a third, fourth, and finally fifth revolution. The air was thick with apprehension. Nightshade sighed and braced herself – there was no point in hoping. There was no way that she could have conceived. She was too young and her files were corrupted. She was just setting herself up for spark-break, it wasn't fair that she had to go through this -
The machine beeped loudly and Nightshade almost leapt into the air. Day Lily gently lifted the device. Then she began reading the results, nodding and 'hmm-ing' every now and then. Day Lily then set the machine down on the table, a curious expression on her face plates.
"Mother, please don't frag with me. Tell me."
Day Lily looked up at her daughter, her face blank and expressionless. Amber optics glittered with mirth, and suddenly Nightshade knew.
"Mother," she whispered quietly, hardly daring to believe what was happening. Day Lily's face broke into a radiant smile, opening her arms out to her daughter.
"Congratulations, my little sparkling – wait, I can't call you that now. You're a fully grown femme now," Day Lily said, and suddenly, Nightshade's optics were filled with cleaning fluid as well.
"I-I conceived?" Nightshade's optics were wide in shock. She wanted so badly to believe her mother but she couldn't bring herself to do so. Day Lily nodded, holding the device out. With trembling fingers, Nightshade took the scanner. She slowly turned it over. Tiny spirals of Cybertronian winked up at her from the display.
…Setting: Detect conception stage. Frequency: 2000 kHz. Sensitivity: 100 percent.
No compensation for outside activity. Scan for spark-material only.
Results now available. Continue?
Conception confirmed. Sparkling at least four orns of age. Log medical scan?
Nightshade stared down at the device, her hands trembling. Day Lily wrapped her arms around the emotional femme and held her tightly. The screen blurred as cleaning fluid tears leaked from her optics.It couldn't be. Had Primus gifted her with a child of her own? Had she truly proven herself worthy in his optics? The scanner landed on the carpeted floor with a muffled thump. Nightshade wrapped her arms around her mother and cried into her shoulder – she cried because there was hope.
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Nightshade's optics turned on and she peered around the room. Ratchet was in the berth beside her, reading a holocube. Her thoughts became clouded and confused as the mech put his cube down slowly. He didn't speak, he only watched. Ratchet gazed at her, puzzled. The femme was staring around the room as though she'd never seen it before. Her hand rested gently on her abdomen. The other was used to prop her up in the berth. Nightshade began wracking her memory banks. She remembered the blazing cold outside. She remembered the pinpricks of pain that had covered her exposed circuitry…she remembered the tears on her face, and the elation and joy…she could still taste the candy she had eaten. …it had all felt so real.
Had…had it all been a cruel dream?
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I made my brother read this and he told me I was a soulless (expletive) and that I had a one way ticket to you-know-where. :O
Was it all real? Or was it all just a dream? (insert evil cackle here)