A/N: I own nothing, just having fun. As always this was prompted by DeathStallion and ChimeraDark.

Warnings: Contains violence and possible disturbing images.


Full moon brightness, deathly white. Cavern darkness crimson firelight. Come ye darklings and moon-bornes who prey, come ye mortals who cling to day. Tonight you see dark midnight true in optics of the nightwalker hue.


The awning chasm in the floor engulfed Ratchet in blackness like being swallowed by an angry maw as he jumped into the hole behind the bar. His frame was heavy, falling too fast with the hunter's armor on. His landing was rough peds slamming into the ancient roadway with an angry shriek of metal grinding against stone.

The sound tore through Ratchet knocking the breath from his intakes with its force. The encompassing blackness tinted eerie, venom yellow from his visor turned the dusty twisting corridor of stalactites and niter in to a nightmare of impaling death from above. In either direction hanging spikes from the ceiling reminded him of why of why he was down here. The spikes dripped like the fangs of nightwalkers salivating over mortal throats.

Ratchet stayed crouched from his landing for all of a spark pulse, yet it was long enough for fear long forgotten and buried in the depth of his spark to rear its presence out of its enforced oblivion. Reaching tendrils of fright held him frozen like reaching hands clutching at him in the dark. He had never spoken of it to his family, his true reason for leaving the ranks of hunters for the healers. It was not the shedding of mech blood or the stalking of lethal prey that turned him on his path. It was his own cowardly terror.

Slowly standing, trembling in his armor badly enough to rattle like broken chips of steel in the wind, Ratchet remembered the fear he had buried constantly all his life. Fear of nightwalkers, fear of his brother, fear of his enormously ancient and powerful nightwalker lovers. Fear of being in this serpentine corridor that showed only feet beyond where he stood before curving blindly from sight and remaining in darkness eternal forever.

"He's our baby brother, sir. We've sheltered him, maybe more than we should have. Please, protect First Aid out there …"

The words of his apprentice's brothers rang through Ratchet's spark like the tolling of Primus' bell on prayer day. The resonating echoes in his mind chased the fear from his frame, shattering the spell that bound him immobile in the darkness.

First Aid! Ratchet finally turned, following the faint track in the thick dust upon the floor of passing, heavy paws. He trembled at the sight. He faced more than nightwalkers here in the all consuming darkness. They had werewolves or lycans, he was not sure which, but either was more than he could handle alone. Even Ironhide would have had Chromia at his back with archers in the wings to face even two or three nightwalkers.

No, Ratchet knew this was a suicide trip, a foolish attempt by a mere healer to save his charge. What could a mere mortal – Ratchet halted mid faltering step in the darkness, his pulse hammering in his lines with renewed hope. He was not mortal! Once more he had forgotten Sunstorm's words that he was dawn fey, a natural enemy of the nightwalkers. Short of being out right killed he would not fall to the nightwalker's kiss, and more than even other nightwalkers he held a stronger resistance to their thrall.

Ratchet's spirits rose, his energy renewed as memory restored his true nature. Ratchet deftly pulled a heavy vial from the bandolier across his chest where numerous others waited. He stood tall in the darkness, optic visor shining like the eerie optics of the darkling hunting weaker prey. The vial in his strangely white hand raised before him, his other hand folded into a sigh of wording as words of power poured through the sealed facemask to resonate through the darkness. Around him in the tunnel a mist slowly formed of the holy water that created a miasma of agony in wait for nightwalkers approaching from behind. With a nod Ratchet dropped the vial, slipped his crossbow into one hand and a fresh bolt into the other as he pressed down the hall into deeper darkness.


"What's wrong with 'em?" Cliff asked pensively eying the nightwalkers writhing before them in the darkness as they slowly disintegrated into dust.

"Old hunter trick called the Veil." Jack replied darkly, optics glimmering with an unholy glee as the dissolving nightwalkers perished in agonized slow motion. "The air is seeded with holy water from a spell." He slipped his face mask and yellow optic visor on, "It's lethal to nightwalkers." Wheeljack strode through the mist, kneeling only long enough to rip the sparks from the chest plates of the writhing nightwalkers on the floor leaving them as blackened piles of metallic ash never to rise again.

"Hmm, I like Jack this violent." Sideswipe smiled approvingly finger and thumb against his chin in a pose of deep contemplation. He stepped towards the shimmering white holy mist of the Veil, deep violet optics shading towards violent sunset orange as his and Sunstreaker's features elongated, fangs growing longer and pedes ripping through their thick boots forming massive claw tipped paws.

"What the Pits!" Bumblebee shrieked, back pedaling from the morphed nightwalkers, his back slamming painfully into the nearest wall.

"We're half lycan." Sunstreaker rumbled with a condescending animalistic snarl, his dark lip curled over ivory fangs in a disturbing facsimile of a smirk, "Or didn't you get the notice?"

Bee gaped as the figures retreated; he looked to Cliffjumper, equally agape at the vanished forms of their nightwalker companions. "I didn't think nightwalkers and lycans liked each other that much."

"Don't look at me, Bee." Jumper shook his head slowly wondering just when the world turned on its head and came out wrong. "Let's go before they have all the fun." Together the pair jogged behind the misty figures of their companions suddenly turned into strangers filled with unknown danger.

The winding tunnel curved in the darkness making their trek a lethal gamble at every curve. Stone spikes reached down to their helms as they passed. Thick niter on the walls oozed slime to the floor forming slick traps that made footing treacherous in their haste. Despite the danger Sunstreaker pushed them to move faster constantly forcing Cliffjumper and Bumblebee to rush in the larger nightwalkers' footsteps or be left behind in the darkness.

"Wait," Sideswipe's voice filled the ominous silence of their journey forcing all to still as they approached a cacophony of battle cries echoing from around the tight curve ahead. Sunstreaker crouched, spread hands acting as forepaws as he crept along on all fours. He slipped forward, vanishing around the bend leaving the group in palpable silence.

They waited, mortal sparks pounding painfully loud to immortal audios as the seconds slowly dragged by. Wolves howled, nightwalkers shrieked in agony cries from creatures unknown mingled into the din of a fight. Wheeljack was motionless, a silvery statue gleaming in the rare glimmer of firelight gleaming around the corner. Sideswipe vanished into the darkness save for optics that seemed darker than the blackest corners of the tunnel they hunkered in. Cliffjumper knelt on one knee, cross bow clutched tightly to his chest as he waited, praying silently to survive whatever was causing the raucous up ahead.

"It's clear." Sideswipe moved forward in a crouch following his brother's path as he led the others into tangible noise ahead. They crouched side by side looking into a small depression in the ground ahead filled to overflowing with darklings and moon-borne surrounding a single white form wreathed in an ethereal emerald glow.

"Uh, what definition did you use for 'clear'?" Bee asked, optic ridge quirked up at Sunstreaker accusingly.


Ratchet hunkered in the darkness leaning close to the tunnel wall. Ahead voices echoed distantly leading him towards a group of three nightwlakers and a lycan lounging within a deep crevasse that formed a natural room. He pulled a vial from his bandolier, pushing the silvery cap down forcing the glass cylinder to collapse into the brass bottom forcing holy water and monks hood to mix in a noxious concoction that would destroy the four darklings ahead. He crouched behind a boulder within the hall, tossing the vial into the depression ahead.

Screams tore through the hallway bringing the keening wails of approaching darklings. Ratchet moved swiftly, stringing holy water drenched garrote wires across the hall the cries came from then stood back, cross bow and bolts at the ready. He waited, trembling as the cries filled the corridor. His spark trembled in his chest, his knees shaking. Ratchet forced the thoughts of tending less fortunate hunters over the vorns from his processors as the first mists of the approaching darklings enshrouded his pedes.

They were here. He stared in horrified petrifaction as wave after wave of nightwalkers ran through the garrote wires, becoming little more than steaming chunks of sparking circuits and poisonous fume before crumbling into dark ash. Still others approached, slowing behind the barrier until a lycan finally noticed Ratchet, locking optics with him – and smirked. Optics staring unblinkingly Ratchet watched the wolf slice through the wires effortlessly with sharp talons unaffected by the holy water.

"Bring him to Lord Galvatron – alive," The beast rumbled darkly, smirking as his companions bolted to the trembling hunter.

Ratchet fired his bolts as rapidly as he could, dropping the crossbow the moment the nightwalkers crossed the threshold past the corridor entrance and pulled two of his many steaks. He swallowed as more approached. He readied himself for only a fraction of a moment then charged the oncoming nightwalkers. Ratchet slammed into them, his spikes flying within his fists as fast as he could move dropping nightwalker and lycan while words he had no knowledge of poured from his mouth in a tidal wave of threats and curses that brought some to their knees in mirth giving him an easy target.

He glanced over the shoulder of the nearest opponent and found himself staring at a solid wall of nightwalkers, lycans, ghouls, werewolves and darkling creatures of all descriptions. This was it, the last stand of a foolish medic with a really bad idea.


"Uh, what definition did you use for 'clear'?" Sunstreaker smirked at Bee's question as they took in the packed mob of nightwalkers and darklings attacking Ratchet en masse. Frames turned to ash had covered the floor in thick metallic ash making footing treacherous. Still Ratchet fought. The healer's hands glowed a rich green hue the color of his optics as a dawn fae as he battled the darkling horde.

"It is clear," Sideswipe grinned hungrily, "That Ratchet needs our help." He leapt over the boulder they hid behind and pounced on the nearest nightwalker deftly ripping its head from its neck with a deft snap of his jaws. Behind him Wheeljack leapt after him, talon tipped fingers ripping through lycans and werewolves with a bestial roar. Sunstreaker cackled darkly, tearing through to Ratchet's position to shadow the healer, taking the burden of the battle off the white-clad hands as his taloned hands ripped through darkling and wolf alike while jaws snapped and rear claws dug furrows into the floor. Bumblebee and Cliffjumper remained behind the massive boulder shooting hails of bolts into the nightwalker horde as targets presented themselves while Sideswipe managed to pick off any opponents who drew near to the mortals' position.

Faced with unfamiliar lycans, a nightwalker and mortals suddenly protecting the dawn fae hunter the horde found themselves virtually surrounded. Their few opponents defied their numbers managing to be everywhere at once their attacks whittling away the horde's numbers.

Ratchet swung at the next set of violet optics that appeared before him fist arcing through the tight confines to reach his opponent – and staggered.

The nightwalkers were gone. Ratchet blinked, amazed at how the nightwalkers could have vanished while he still lived. He stood frozen, frame locked up as the battle craze left his systems and fear once more claimed him. Trembling, hands clenching spikes that slowly dripped spilled mechblood of darklings, nightwalkers, werewolves and lycans until his muscle cables ached and his plating went numb within the heavy hunter armor.

"Aww, they're running away." Sideswipe pouted near Ratchet, frowning worriedly when the healer neither moved nor flinched. "Ratch?" Worried, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe shifted fluidly from lycan to nightwalker, gently prying spikes from the healer's fingers and lifting the faceplate away to see his optics.

"Ratch?" Sunstreaker rumbled, fear tickling up his spine as he took in the healer's icy white optics that stared ahead unseeing.

"Oh Ratch," Wheeljack sighed, pulling a vial of strong vapors from Ratchet's healing pack slung across the rigid white back armor plating. "Creator called it hunter's pall. The spark can't handle the burden of fighting and puts the frame into lockdown. Carrier always said that the pall was more lethal to hunters than all the races darkling and fae combined."

"Will he be alright?" Sideswipe asked as he reached to hold one of the healer's trembling armored hands while Wheeljack forced the vial of potent fumes down Ratchet's throat.

"You might want to stand back." Wheeljack dove for the nearest boulder once the vial was emptied and crouched leaving the twins to wonder from where they stood protectively next to Ratchet.

"What's his problem?" Sunstreaker scoffed at Jack's cowering. Suddenly he was thrown into the stone tunnel wall and Sideswipe cried as his frame was flung to the ground both bore splotches of blackened plating, their frames singed by the dawn fae's powerful aura alone.

Ratchet blinked, frame stilling from movements he had no memory of making. He looked around the mostly empty tunnel at his companions who kept well away from him, his lovers bearing smoking patches that still bubbled from an attack the flaked crimson and gold pigments on his knuckles told him he had made. "What the slag?"

"You suffered the pall and came out of it swinging." Wheeljack grinned as he stood, "I told them to stand back, but," he shrugged. Ratchet nodded there was nothing to say, the twins were protective and they all were treading unknown territory when it came to his dawn fae heritage. Ratchet instantly moved to the twins leaning away from him into the wall. Their wide optics struck a line of fear through his spark. He had feared them for their powers, now he feared for them because of his own. Wiser mechs would turn from him in self defense. Instead, they leaned into his touch as he raised his hands to their damaged plating, implicit trust and devotion radiating like spoken words from their concerned optics.

"We thought they killed you." Sunstreaker whispered so softly Ratchet barely heard, "I will not live without you."

Ratchet swallowed tightly, optics boring into Sunstreaker's proud ones. In times past he had heard similar professed words of devotion in ballads and bad poetry that had always made him queasy with the distaste that one overly dependent mech would self-terminate just to stay with his dubious lover. Now though, he knew the anguished truth behind the golden nightwalker's words. Sunstreaker was right he and Sideswipe would not live without Ratchet. Even if they wished to his demise would seal their fates. The curse upon them set in the time of Alpha Trion still held strong binding their eternal sparks to Ratchet's own.

"I know." Ratchet replied just as softly meeting both his lovers' optics steadily before finally tending their rapidly regenerating wounds.

"We'd better get moving." Ratchet spoke once he had checked over the rest of their group, standing tall his hands finally free of their trembling, he put on a brave face for his rescuers. Underneath his armored facemask and visor he gaped as the twins once more shifted from nightwalker to lycan but kept his mouth shut. There would be time for questions if they survived this.

"Good call, medic." Cliffjumper replied with a nod as he jogged past his taller companions to follow the cold hall their adversaries had passed through. They moved in an unassigned formation, nightwalkers protecting the mortals and dawn fae as they ran to catch up with the horde. Sunstreaker turned into a dark passage, his absence bringing the cries of agony as nightwalkers lying in wait were slaughtered where they hid.

The twins took turns vanishing off one side tunnel or another as they hurried to the main nightwalker camp herding their numerous opponents towards whatever main camp they held in the dark underground. Wheeljack stayed with the group protecting the mini-bot mortals with Ratchet from stragglers the twins may have missed.


Bumblebee and Cliffjumper gasped to cycle their intakes as they crouched in a nearby cul-de-sac, before them the winding tunnel opened up into a natural cathedral carved from an ancient cave. Stone formations had been altered eons ago becoming reliefs depicting life in the days of the carvers. Shadowy and flickering with the light of a thousand fires they filled the chamber with fluid darkness and leaping brightness. The writhing light licked over the amassed frames of mechanoid frames innumerable in the darkness.

Bee gulped at the plethora of pinprick lights violet and orange of optics shining in the wavering darkness all focused on Sunstreaker, Sideswipe and Wheeljack as they pulled up sharply in the entrance of the cavern opening. Bee looked up to the Blood Twins, noting their gaze focused down below on two pale figures chained against a massive column rising against a far stone wall. "There's Bluestreak and Aid." He leaned over to Cliffjumper who had collapsed against the cool stone wall until he could once more breathe.

"How many prisoners do they have?" Cliff asked squinting into the darkness. Bee whispered the dire situation to his recovering friend describing the dark sea of living mechs just behind their stolen friends.

"Enough to feed an army." Sideswipe snarled realizing with cold fury that the nightwalkers had made themselves a larder comprised of mortals chained in the dark, protected corner of their sanctuary. Below and right before them the amassed horde began their charge towards their position. Sunstreaker grinned at Sideswipe, the pair giving ferocious snarling grins as they readied for the attack.

"Remember, keep them busy, keep them focused on us." Wheeljack hissed softly as he pulled his weapons and roared his battle cry launching himself at the approaching horde.

"You two, get high and give us some cover. Don't start shooting until we've got them distracted from Ratchet." Sideswipe grinned at the mortals finally recovered from their long run through the winding tunnels of the cavern.

"Don't worry," Jumper smirked grimly, "They won't know what hit 'em."


Ratchet hunkered just behind the tallest stalagmite within the mortals' stockade. Intakes heaving he remained frozen as Wheeljack, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe launched themselves at the nightwalker army. He hated this cracked motherboard of a plan the twins had concocted. He stayed low, visor dimmed so the captive mortals would not see him against the pale pillar he crouched beside and waited as sounds of battle and death filled the hall.

Finally, the many nightwalker and lycan guards ceased their tireless watching of the mortals, their attention fully claimed by their comrades' battling the rogue nightwalker and lycans. The trio should have fallen the instant the attack had started yet the powerful lycan pair seemed ancient, eternal agents of destruction Pit-bent on bringing down the amassed immortal army. Once sure the guards were engrossed in the battle opposite of the stockade Ratchet pulled several vials of holy water from about his chest, uncapped them and chanted the spell once more. Immediately he threw the vials high into the air, arching over the darkling horde to spread the Veil's mists through the cave. He turned once the last vial left his hands, scurrying for the mortals bound within the stockade to begin the evacuation.

He needed time to free his apprentice and Bluestreak. He needed time to get the mortals through the labyrinth of the tunnels and into the inn. He needed time to break them free of their prison of ice and into the hopefully brilliant sunlight beyond. Only then would they be safe from the nightwalker horde. All they needed was time, he looked over his shoulder to his brother and lovers spotting massive gashes on all three that though regenerating swiftly were also working to slow them down. All they needed was time, he realized and time was the last thing they had.


A/N: I'm finding these fight scenes are not wanting to be written, once I get the rest just right I'll post more, which I hope to be soon.