A story not often told
Chapter 11: A haunting dream
Perceptor groaned. He was having trouble during recharge. It was like a haunting memory. He didn't remember it though. A dream, that's what he renamed it. The dream crept in and stayed, dragging into the hours of the night.
Darkness surrounded him. He felt cold. It was odd. He hadn't felt cold anywhere else. He seemed very used to the cold that he simply stopped feeling it. He never understood. He looked around, hoping to find anyone.
An evil chuckle echoed. It was…recognizable. Familiar. Yet, forgettable. Perceptor felt scared all the same. The echo seeped deep into his soul. He shivered, looking around hastily. He felt a cold hand on his shoulder.
"Don't be forgetting me so soon, child," hissed a voice.
Perceptor gasped. The voice was an echo in a memory. A memory he no longer had. He collapsed. He couldn't move. Darkness seeped in every crack of his being. His mind was slipping. He couldn't concentrate. He couldn't remember. Everything was slipping. A familiar slipping. He remembered!
Perceptor gasped remembering this feeling. The feeling faded then returned then faded once more. The same voice hissed around him. He couldn't handle it. He felt like screaming but nothing sounded. No voice exited him. He couldn't scream for help. He couldn't call for his friends. His friends…who were they again?
"No!" finally something came from him.
He refused to forget. Slowly things pieced together. He remembered meeting Ratchet. He remembered falling into meeting Wheeljack. He remembered almost everything. His childhood vanished from reach. He heard one last thing before waking. His name. His name from such a sweet and familiar voice.
"Perceptor!" called the voice.
Perceptor sat up quickly. He was in his dorm room. It was the dead of night. He was panting hard. The memories. Perceptor smiled lightly. He leaped from the bed and ran from the room. 211. 212.213. 214! Perceptor stopped at Ratchet's room door. He knocked hard but quietly, hoping only to gather Ratchet's attention and no others. He waited as patiently as he could, which wasn't much. Finally the door opened, revealing a tired Ratchet.
"Ceptor…what are-" Ratchet began.
"I remember!" Perceptor couldn't resist saying.
It took a while for Ratchet to get the picture. Then he perked up and let Perceptor in. Ratchet closed the door and turned to light on. Perceptor felt very strange. Two life memories were joining and it was startling not only his mind but his spark.
"What do you mean, remember?" Ratchet gasped.
"I met you on my first day of public school. You led me to the office!" explained Perceptor with a smile. "I met Wheeljack the same day. He was working on that cloaking device…"
"Wow. How far back is this memory?" questioned Ratchet, curiously.
"I…I remember only far back to walking to the school…nothing further," answered Perceptor.
"Weird…" shrugged Ratchet, "But at least your memories this far."
"I…I almost forgot again though," admitted Perceptor.
"Oh?" Ratchet hummed.
"I remember…almost forgetting who you were…who Wheeljack was," groaned Perceptor, covering his face. He was losing his thoughts again.
"Don't worry. You do remember that your test is this morning," chuckled Ratchet.
"Don't you forget that your Autobot test is this afternoon," nodded Perceptor.
"Then you'll be stopping by also," added Ratchet, opening the door again.
"Maybe. If I have time…and if I remember," smiled Perceptor, leaving the room.
"Goodnight, Ceptor," whispered Ratchet, closing the door behind his friend.
Perceptor stood in the dark hall for a while. His smile was long gone. He recalled the forgetting. It was terrible. He realized again how he liked to know things. He sighed at his obsession. He smiled again, though, with a feeling that this was the end of a chapter in his life. If not now really soon. He started to his room again.