Duty and Deceit
Chapter 44
Shadows Within Us
Okay, so here's our Monday update for the week! It's even on time! ... Though just barely.
I want to give a huge hand of applause to my beloved enmused (feel free to check out her stories... amazing stuff) for being my loyal reader, sticking with me and reviewing even such a dark chapter in my characters' lives as Shadows Around Us was when all others left me... Anyhow! I'm looking forward to seeing you all at the end of this chapter!
Also, if it helps to have motivation... I'm greatly inspired by your input, and much less likely to be late in updating when I'm inspired!
Movement beneath her helm jolted her back into the land of the processing, bringing her into an only slightly improved state of consciousness. She let out a contented sigh and her engine let out a short little purr as she shifted to get just a little comfier. Her pillow shifted again, making the little femme online her gold optics slowly.
A green, red-accented, heavily armored forearm greeted her vision and she pulled herself upright in the hard chair beside the berth to look at the not-quite-awake fighter jet whose arm she'd used as a pillow. She glanced over at the recharging blue jet on the next berth over and lowered her mask when she deemed him thoroughly offline.
Several breems later, the little Prussian blue and black two-wheeler's gold bio-lights started to go dim as her helm began to droop back towards the mech's arm as exhaustion took its toll. Skyquake's huge hand slipped over the top of hers gently.
"Hey, femme..." He muttered, looking up at her with concerned ruby optics. "How long've you been here?"
"S'long as you."
"Three orns... Tera, when's the last time you fueled? Or recharged properly? You look drained." Skyquake asked with worried tones, his vents heaving raggedly.
She let out a deep sigh, shuttering her optics for a moment as she counted the rotations out in her bleary processors. She already knew that the answer she had wouldn't make him very happy with her. "'Bout the same..."
He squeezed her hand gently and shuttered his optics for several klicks, finally just venting loudly. His words signified that he'd decided just to let it go for the time being. "Sorry 'bout droppin' out on you like that... How'd you get me here?"
"I was overcome with a fear so great that my weight bearing capacity tripled so that I could carry you here all on my own, all hero-style." She teased, glancing out the plexi-glass window to make sure there were no medics coming in to perform some scan or other, "No, I... ah, persuaded Hook to space bridge you here after... gaining access to the Priority One channel..."
He grinned up at her, "You hacked the frequency and handed out death threats didn't you."
"That, my dear commander," She said playfully, poking him in the shoulder as a mock reprimand, "Is classified. Top secret intel."
"For a select few persons with the designation 'Terabyte'?" Skyquake replied with a knowing twinkle in his optics.
"Precisely." She smiled, frowning slightly as she remembered the circumstances of his coming here to the KMECC. It didn't make sense. Why hadn't this happened before? Surely she would have noticed if he was in pain from any injuries his twin sustained. Surely, in all the time she'd known him, Dreadwing must have been injured on occasion... "If you always feel Dreadwing's pain when he's deployed and you aren't..."
The spy trailed off as her sensitive finials picked up the distinctive change in ventilation patterns as the mech slipped back off into a contented recharge. She regarded the green jet for a moment, a concerned gleam in her shining gold optics.
"... Why haven't I ever noticed?"
She could hear the mechs' tentatively nearing pedefalls, but still she refused to look up. She was afraid to look into their optics; afraid of what she might see if she did. So she sat there crying, angry, disappointed, and disgusted tears, making no move to stop their slow approach.
After about a klick, the femme felt Skyquake's EM field brush against her in a gentle way that conveyed comfort, regret, shame, apology, and a plea for reassurance. Shortly after, it was joined by Cliffjumper's, bearing much the same feel.
Terabyte's lip curled into a sneer and she rose slowly, keeping her helm down as she collected herself just enough to be taken seriously. She flared her armor and EM field outward in one harsh motion, hearing the two mechs back off at the wave of anger that she flung out at them.
"What in the name of the Allspark have you done?" She snarled, her voice low and quiet, her rage rising to a level far beyond shouting. She was past shouting at them. No, she would have yelled at them until their audios shattered if they'd only killed him. But this was so much more despicable. So much more evil than that.
To have just killed the mech would have been a mercy compared to what they'd done.
They didn't reply, only bowed their helms lower, keeping their armor clamped down against their leaking frames in shame. Skyquake's wings were dipped lower than she'd ever seen them before, testifying the guilt he felt. But she was beyond pity for them.
"Have you nothing to say for yourselves?" She asked in the same low, quiet voice, the pink coolant streaking her bare faceplate, pooling in the jagged scar that ran from the left corner of her left optic down to her lip. "Do you have no excuse for this... this... savagery?"
"What we did here today was a level of evil worthy of Megatron himself." Skyquake answered, his vocalizer catching slightly on the words, seeming to wilt even more at his own words.
She hissed, gesturing at Blitzwing's frame. "To say the least." She whirled to lay her smoldering gaze on the red mech. "And you?"
"We weren't in our right minds..." Cliffjumper whispered, not daring to meet her glare. "The synth-En..."
She snorted derisively, a cold, humorless laugh working its way out of her vocalizer, her faceplates stiff with her indignation, "It's not your fault? Is that seriously what you're going to go with for me, Cliffjumper? You weren't in your right mind?"
Terabyte glanced down at his silver, disfigured pede. The damage that she had caused while not in her right mind. She could practically taste the irony as his voice echoed in her helm. Sure, I trust you. I trust you to keep betraying us, no matter how many times I put my spark on the line for you. You'll just keep blowing your chances.
No words were needed to get her point across. Her armor fell slack again as she lost the will to rebuke them further. It was obvious that they were punishing themselves far more than she could. There was no point in berating them further, and besides that, the very irony that she had just reminded them all of left her with no right to accuse them.
She had been no better when Soundwave had manipulated her memories.
Had circumstances been different, she very likely would have done much the same to Cliffjumper, or Bumblebee, or both. She could have, would have, and nearly did. She had no right to be angry.
As she stood there, her optics dripping pink coolant as the tears began to flow freely once more, Terabyte didn't even care that her mask was down. That her face - far too expressive, like a window to her spark - was open for all to see, stained and streaked with coolant.
She felt a pair of arms wrap around her gently, pulling her into a hesitant, somewhat-awkward brotherly hug. The little femme cringed slightly and went stiff in Cliffjumper's embrace, his harsh words from what was already a week ago still echoing loudly in her mind, now joined with the image of Blitzwing's tortured frame.
She was fairly confident that he wouldn't hurt her, and yet the fear remained. She'd only known him for a little over a human year. That was hardly six quartex. Hardly any time really, for beings who could live for three millenia and still be considered a youngster.
"TB, I..." Cliffjumper's voice was quiet and pained his vocalizer hissing static as he spoke, "Terabyte... I am so, so sorry..."
At her skeptical, cold stare, he rushed to continue, trying desperately to convey what he meant as he stepped away slightly, gesturing to Blitzwing's husk. "Not for this - I mean, yes I hate myself for having done... - but that's not what I'm apologizing for. I... I have no right to call myself your friend after what I said to you."
"I wasn't bothered." She said softly, her finial twitching emphatically at the blatant lie. She could feel Skyquake standing a little ways away, staring off at the crimson sunrise. "It's no big deal, really."
"Don't lie to me, Terabyte." The red mech bit out, growing agitated by her refusal to face things. His tone was not unkind, but his frustration was evident in it, "I don't apologize for being the two-bit malfunction that I am often enough for you to shrug it off with a lie to my face. Please, just let me finish."
Terabyte looked over her shoulder at the ground beside her, hugging her middle as if it would help her to hold herself together. She fiddled with the gold decorations on her miniature fusion cannon, allowing her silence to drag on into an invitation to continue.
"I have helped to do something so unforgivably dreadful, I don't know where to even begin redeeming myself. I don't know if I even can. All I can do is try, and I can start by acknowledging that right now," He gave her a sad little grin, fingering the insignia on his life-En splattered, scratched, and dented chest. "You are far more worthy of this than I have been for... probably far too long. I guess that happens when you've been fighting in the same bloody war for forty vorns."
Her ruby optics widened slightly at the number he'd given. That would put him at at least seventy vorns of age. Still nowhere near so old as Jetfire or Ratchet, or even the Prime, who was significantly younger than the medic and scientist. Not that even they were really old. After all, when a race was practically immortal, what was a few tens of millenia? She'd never have guessed that he and Skyquake were the same age though. He always acted so much younger.
The red mech laughed at her response, "I guess what I'm trying to say is-"
Behind them a ground bridge portal erupted into life, letting a group of mechs through. None of the trio turned to look at the newcomers, not even noticing their arrival.
"I know." She whispered, "... I know. It's alright."
Skyquake walked over, placing himself at her shoulder like he always did. She could feel him quivering with a rage he rarely ever showed. His deep bass rumbling from his engine, "No. No it's not. And no amount of apologizing and forgiving will fix this."
"You could not be more right, Skyquake. Nothing can fix what you and Cliffjumper have done today, and your punishment will be severe." Optimus said somberly, his tone laden with his disappointment and anger at their actions. The two mechs seemed to melt under the Prime's gaze. "However, your remorse is a good place to start on the path to redemption."
"What were you thinking?" Arcee whispered, staring at the gruesome sight before her optics.
Bulkhead and Bumblebee just stared on in silence, glancing every now and then at the two mechs that were responsible for the scene. Terabyte stared at her pointed black feet, her mask having snapped up over the pink streaks of coolant as soon as she noticed their company.
It had been a very long time since she'd fought beside Skyquake, or seen the damage he could deal out. Of course, she knew that he could kill, after all, she'd seen Prowl when the jet had finished with him. But he had made it quick then, and as painless as death by machine gun could be.
She had forgotten just how much Skyquake was capable of.
By the looks on the Autobots' faces, they had all forgotten just how much the two mechs were really capable of.
Two Days Later
Terabyte looked around at the other Autobots who were gathered together in the main chamber, each mech lounging in various positions.
"So..." Bulkhead trailed off, letting the single word hang in the empty atmosphere. "What are we gonna do with them?"
"We can't just leave them to rot in the brig for the rest of their lives." Arcee put in, her tone dark as she muttered, "As much as we may want to."
A light drumming of squishy fingers drew their optics down to where Miko was sitting with a bored and impatient expression. When the girl noticed their attention, she sprung to her feet and stepped into the center of the loose ring of bots. "I still don't get what the big deal is. When Bee nearly took out the big green dude, you all cheered and congratulated him. Now Sky and Cliff take out this nut-case, who by the sounds of it had a pretty bad rep and a list of war crimes about a zillion miles long, and you've got 'em in the lock-up."
She went on, flinging her hands to emphasize her frustration. "It doesn't make sense. We're the good guys, he was the bad guy, so they blow him to kingdom come and we move on with the war. No big deal, right?"
Terabyte's optic ridges pulled together in distress. Miko was too young for this war. She didn't understand the value of life enough to see why this was so serious. "No, no, no, Miko... This isn't a good thing, and we aren't necessarily always the 'good guys'. In a war, there isn't always a good side or a bad side. Sometimes it just isn't that easy. The lines between right and wrong get blurry."
"Sometimes war makes very good people do horrible things and sometimes makes horrible people do very good things." Optimus concluded gravely, "We cannot dismiss the atrocities committed by a good mech merely on the grounds of their being of a certain faction. Whether done by Autobot or Decepticon, the crimes committed two days ago cannot be justified."
Miko looked down at her black, knee-high combat boots with a thoughtful expression. After a while she flopped down cross-legged beside Jack with a confused frown. She looked over at the older boy questioningly.
The midnight two-wheeler couldn't help but notice just how much the girl respected and looked up to Jack. He was like the Prime of the trio. The one they all looked up to.
"Life is sacred, Miko." The boy said quietly, sweeping his messy mop of black hair out of his face. An odd expression crossed his face, "Whether it be Autobot, or Decepticon; human, or Cybertronian. And what Cliffjumper and Skyquake did violated that sacred thing far beyond just taking Blitzwing's life."
At the lack of change in her confused expression, Jack went on, "It's like they took away his life before they killed him."
Terabyte smiled sadly behind her midnight navy mask. That was a far better explanation than any of them could have given. It was so accurate it hurt.
She flared her field a little, brushing Arcee's comfortingly. The two-wheelers had stuck together pretty much ever since the two mechs had been put in the brig. Jetfire and Ratchet were in the med-bay dismantling and salvaging what few parts they could from Blitzwing's remains. Arcee had locked down after that sunrise, refusing to so much as wish any mech good cycle. Her dark muttering a breem ago was the first words she'd spoken since the incident.
"So like Bulk asked, what're we gonna do with them?" Bumblebee bleeped solemnly, flicking his doorwings at a despondent angle.
"For now, I believe the best course of action would be to keep Cliffjumper and Skyquake confined to the brig until we can be certain that the synthetic Energon has been completely purged from their systems." Optimus Prime said firmly, his optic ridges pressing into a stiff line parallel with the tight line of his lip-plates. "As far as their punishment is concerned, I am as of yet undecided... It has been many, many vorns since one of my mechs has committed a crime of this scale."
Terabyte massaged her neck gently with one hand, trying to work out the stiffness that had built up with her stress. She sighed deeply and looked down at Raf, who was leaning up against the light gray proto-plating of her abdomen. The boy turned around and looked up at her with a look of trust that made her tanks churn slightly at the responsibility.
She didn't deserve to be trusted or respected as much as this human's gaze showed that he did. He spoke quietly, "Everything's going to be alright now, right though? No one else is going to get hurt?"
The femme ran her glossa over her fangs as she tried to think of an honest way to answer that without hurting the boy. They were all so young... Far too young to be in this war. Like she had been, and by most standards still was. No child deserved to partake in war so early on. She wrapped an arm gently around the human boy in as much of a hug as she could give without hurting him.
"I'm sorry, Raf," Terabyte whispered back, her blood-red optics sorrowful, "But I can't promise you that... I don't think I will be able to for quite a while."
Brig: Next Day, 1900 Hours.
"Stupid!"
Bang!
"Slag-helm!"
Bang!
"Two-bit!"
Bang!
"Pit-spawn!"
Skyquake watched in silence from his position on the floor next to the berths as Cliffjumper shouted, emphasizing each self-depreciating insult with another dent in the steel wall. The red mech had been shouting and punching the wall ever since they got put in here three rotations ago. Honestly, the green jet was surprised that the mech hadn't run out of insults by now.
Bang!
"Monster!"
He went back to glaring at his own feet, his deep engine rumbling in distaste. His ruby optics were hard and beginning to dim. He needed to recharge, and he needed to refuel. There were four cubes of Energon stacked on top of each other on the table in the center of the cell. Terabyte had stopped bringing them once she'd decided that they weren't going to be ingested.
Bang!
"Despicable excuse for an Autobot... despicable excuse for a mech..." Cliffjumper trailed off brokenly, sliding down to sit on the floor next to where Skyquake had his pedes drawn up close to his frame, his helm resting in his hands.
Skyquake didn't say anything, just continued glaring at his feet. His wings ached from the way he was seated with them crushed against the steel wall. He didn't care. It didn't hurt enough.
Ratchet and Jetfire had insisted on repairing their injuries, so he couldn't even let himself suffer with his wounds until he either leaked out or his self-repair systems somehow managed to keep him alive.
He vented harshly, grinding the gears in his jaw angrily.
After several breems of silence, Cliffjumper said quietly, "That can't be very comfortable for your wings..."
"Hngh." Skyquake grunted in response, not shifting in any way.
"Uh... we've got Energon if you're hungry..." After another breem of gaping, screamingly empty stillness, the red mech sighed, "Yeah. Me neither."
Skyquake crossed his arms over his knees and laid his helm down with a sharp ex-vent. Every one of the insults the mech had been shouting were far too true. Yet, the combination of them all still fell short of how despicable he truly was. This was his fault.
If he'd just left the synth-En alone... just had that wonderful evening with Terabyte and left the red mech to hang from the ceiling... Just done everything a little better, with just a little more sense... If he'd only done what was necessary to prevent this. Just said no. Just a simple 'no' would have saved a mech's spark.
A Week Later
Optimus frowned at the two mechs who sat stoically on the berth, avoiding his gaze with limp armor and ashamed posturing, especially noticeable in Skyquake's wings.
"Are you aware of what you have done?" He demanded, his quiet voice not masking any of his disappointment. He had waited until now to visit the mechs in the brig on purpose. He had waited so that he would be able to mete out justice with a kind, unbiased hand. He had also waited so that the mechs had time to contemplate what they had done.
Because this time last week, he was still very partial to ripping off their wings and wheels and forcing them down their throats after pounding the living scrap out of them. Which the Matrix informed him would be rather un-Primely of a response.
So he had waited until now to pay his mechs a visit.
"Yes sir." They chorused dully, their optics dim and their tones empty.
The Prime frowned. That wasn't what he wanted from them. "Are you aware of what you have done?"
Skyquake looked up at him with blank ruby optics, "We have tortured a mech far beyond what is morally acceptable for no other reason than for our own entertainment, sir." The jet's large green wings twitched, "And then we physically tore his spark out, all while under the influence of an unstable compound that did no more than enhance our strength and dull our consciences."
Optimus held his expression impassive, allowing the green jet to go on, "The desire to kill, the ability to kill, and the amusement we derived from the torture of another living mech were not byproducts of the synthetic Energon which I obtained by illegal means, yet all three of those things were very present with us."
"And whose idea was this excursion?" The scarlet and cobalt Autobot leader questioned, already having a pretty good idea of who the instigator was.
Cliffjumper was a loose cannon in the Autobot army, whose sense of humor was both his strongest and weakest point. His offense and his defense. In many ways both a coping mechanism and an outlet for negative energy. While affected by the synthetic Energon, the red mech would have thought it an excellent scheme.
"The idea was mine."
The Prime's optics narrowed with minor surprise as he scrutinized the large defector who had spoken. He could see no indication that the mech was lying. He nodded minutely in acceptance and acknowledgement, meeting the mech's ruby optics a moment.
However, he looked over at Cliffjumper questioningly, noting the guilty flare of his armor, as well as the way he shuffled his pedes, refusing to meet his gaze for longer than an astrosecond. The Prime raised an optic ridge, "Cliffjumper, is this true?"
"Y-yes sir." The red mech replied quietly, staring at his silver foot, his optics tracing the way the tire jutted out, suspended in mid-air on the axle, the convoluted mess of gears, plating, and rudimentary mechanical cabling shining in the bright white light of the cell.
Optimus frowned at the disjointed, suspicious murmuring of the Matrix within him. He was interrogating the mech he had placed as the Autobots' official interrogator and he was lying to his face, and not doing a very good job of it either. They had not planned to deceive him, but the Matrix did not seem to agree when he considered calling them out on their deceit. He would confront Skyquake, but not now.
"You are aware of the repercussions of your actions?"
"Yes sir."
The Prime gestured for them to elaborate the punishments they saw necessary. Often he found that when dealing with good mechs with guilty consciences, they would provide a set of punishments that far exceeded justice, allowing him to modify as necessary.
"A major demotion, definitely." Cliffjumper said instantly.
Skyquake's face looked pained, "Likely permanent status as prisoner of war. Severely limited freedom."
"At least a quartex brig-time, plus any menial labor necessary."
"Locked weapons systems and subspace, no flight-time and wing cuffs at all times, regular processor scans."
"Removal from active field duty."
A twitch of remembered agony as Skyquake said firmly, "Public beating... At least fifty lashes... Might get to keep our preliminary armor and if you're generous, you won't target the wings."
A tiny gasp from behind them made the Prime and the two offenders look around the corner with curiosity. Terabyte stood there shaking slightly, her open faceplate slack, scarlet optics wide. Her dainty lips trembled and red bio-lights were pulsing sporadically.
"Y-you..." She trailed off for a moment, "You make fifty lashes with only prelim-armor sound... like a mercy..."
Optimus' jaw went tight with a new anger at Skyquake's nonchalant shrug, the jet muttered, "It would be. The Decepticons don't consider a beating proper 'till the life-En soaks the ground and the mech is no longer physically able to hold himself upright."
Skyquake went on, primarily oblivious to the little femme's growing horror. "If the one getting beaten is a winger, the beating is all the more enjoyable for the one dealing the punishment, as the mech's back and wings have five times the sensitivity. I've taken plenty enough to know."
The Prime frowned with concern as he stepped aside to let the now-crying femme in. She came in and pressed her scarred and coolant-streaked face into the green jet's upper abdomen, for that's where she could reach. Skyquake's huge hand rubbed her back soothingly, his engine letting out a low, calming hum.
Cliffjumper and Optimus just stood there, staring at the floor as they used a private comm-line. /He's asking for ten more than the maximum lashes and calling it benevolence. Prime, this is wrong./
"You took half of those beatings for me, didn't you? To keep me unaware of the truth..." Terabyte whispered reproachfully, bitterness coating her voice.
"Duty called for it, Terabyte..." Skyquake whispered back, "And I'd do it a million times over again to spare you that experience."
/My brother has not stopped seeking the purest evil for millenia./ Optimus replied gravely, his spark twinging painfully at the reminder of the shattered bonds. /I fear he has drawn even closer to his goal than I had imagined./
"But... I hurt you... so, so much, without even realizing it." The Protihexian femme sobbed brokenly, "Every time I did something wrong, you paid the price... It's my fault. Why didn't you tell me you were taking my punishments? I would have taken them!"
The jet touched the back of his hand to her face, tracing her scar with his knuckle, "I know, Terabyte, I know... But they would have broken you, and I couldn't let that happen."
Optimus hummed, recalling having the same talk with Elita-1, before they were bonded. He had taken a cannon blast in the spark for her, and she had tried to convince him he shouldn't have. He'd said almost the exact same words to her.
The sound that he'd made reminded the two defectors of their company and their setting and Terabyte went a little stiffer in Skyquake's embrace, stepping aside and raising her helm with her usual formality, though surprisingly her mask didn't snap back into place.
He studied her carefully for a moment, noting the beauty of her features, the deep, ragged scar doing little to mar her features. Perhaps her mask being lowered was a sign that she was beginning to trust them beyond just her physical well-being. Or perhaps she simply hadn't realized that it was still down.
Either way, it was an improvement that made his spark swell with encouragement.
Skyquake put a hand on her shoulder in a casually comforting manner, looking at the Prime as if daring him to criticize what the Decepticons had likely beat him into thinking was a weakness.
"Terabyte... you shouldn't be here right now... the Prime is deciding our fate, and it would be best that you not interfere, lest you be brought into my punishment."
"What?!" Cliffjumper exclaimed indignantly, glancing over at his Prime for back-up, "You think we would hurt her just to punish you? What would it be a punishment for?"
"Weakness."
Optimus shuddered his optics for a moment, pressing his servos to his temples. "Love is not a weakness, Skyquake; it is a vulnerability, yes, but it is not a weakness. Without it, we have nothing to fight for, no cause to pursue." He pushed away the image of the broken, devastated frame of Blitzwing from his mind, "It is something that we all could use a little more of in this war."
"I have made a decision regarding the extent of your punishments, and we will convene on the matter in the morning." He said regally, turning to leave the cell. Before he left, he looked back in at the three bots, "Until then, good cycle."
She watched the Prime's retreating back, then looked up at the two mechs whose judgement apparently just been decided. Biting her lower lip briefly, Terabyte turned to follow, faintly hoping that one of them would say something to prevent her.
"How do you deal with it?"
She stared into the red mech's desperately pleading optics, knowing her mask was down and not really being much bothered by that knowledge. These mechs needed to know they were still trusted, still loved, and still counted as family.
It was a level of trust that Terabyte was not entirely sure she was ready to display yet. But it was also a level of trust that Cliffjumper and Skyquake both needed right now.
"With what? The guilt?" She asked -just to confirm. She vented deeply, frowning down at her gold-jointed pedes, contemplating the full depth of such a plea.
A pained expression worked its way onto her face as she considered all the things that plagued her recharge and kept her awake and shivering at night. As she pictured all the faces she watched fade. She averted her gaze, tossing it to the floor, her optics running over the mech's mutilated pede, making her spark jerk in its chamber.
Pink coolant began to form again in her scarlet optics. "I don't know: you tell me."
Cliffjumper looked down, his expression verging on dispair. His broken tone summed up how he felt far more than any words could. "Oh... right."
Skyquake gave her another quick hug and smiled down at her sadly, wiping the coolant from her cheeks with his thumb. "Go get some fuel and some rest, Terabyte. I get a feeling we'll all need it."
The femme frowned, flicking her mask back into place and exiting the brig with steady pede-falls, trying to act as though she hadn't lost her composure. She did need to refuel, so the little femme spun on her heel and turned the corner she'd nearly walked past.
Stepping into the doorway, Terabyte slowed to a halt, her skilled pede-falls making no noise on the concrete as she turned and left. She didn't feel like company just now, so the large olive ex-Wrecker never even knew she'd come.
Refueling could wait a while longer. She'd go for a little walk instead. Get some fresh air.
The two-wheeler silently made her way to the bridge room and found it pleasantly vacant. Ratchet and Jetfire's silhouettes could be seen in the med-bay, still trying to salvage parts and materials from Blitzwing's body. She smiled behind her mask and got halfway through the tunnel to the surface when a voice called her name.
"Terabyte!"
She turned and nodded respectfully to the older femme, keeping her armor flared as always. She held her scarlet gaze to the floor, awaiting the scolding for trying to leave without an escort. When a klick passed in silence, she looked up, her expression questioning.
"Getting a vent of fresh air?" Arcee asked quietly, her voice husky.
"Yes ma'am." Terabyte responded, spreading her finials a little wider to take in the senses that wafted in from the open tunnel doors, tantalizing her with promises of taking her processors away. Away from everything.
"Arcee is fine." The other femme said instantly, staring blankly out towards the cool outdoors. "Mind if I join you?"
Terabyte shrugged a shoulder wheel noncommittally, flaring her armor out briefly as she heaved a deep vent of emotional exhaustion, "By order of Autobot law and rank, I have no right to deny your request. Do you have any place in particular you would like to go, or may I go on as intended?"
The Autobot second in command smirked wryly, "You don't have to sound so pleased... No, I'm the tag-along here, go wherever you want."
"Within reason." She added, glancing back at Arcee with an amused twinkle in her optics.
"Within reason."
Transforming, the ex-spy sped off with Arcee by her side and headed straight for the one spot she knew would be the most comforting. She drove in silence with her holoform activated for any humans, her engine purring as the road sped beneath her tires at over a hundred miles an hour. Child's speeds, but the humans' lives were so fragile -she didn't blame them for driving slow.
She skidded to a stop with a spray of dust and fallen evergreen needles at the edge of a redwood forest, the dim moonlight shining through the organic branches, giving the majestically huge trees a surreal look.
She flipped back up into bi-pedal mode and looked through the trees with a smile spreading over her masked face, walking through the forest easily, her pedes carrying her over roots and dips in the soil as if she'd lived here all her life. Every now and then, Terabyte glanced over her shoulder to make sure the other femme was fine. Of course, the warrior-femme was more than able, and soon she stopped checking.
Several breems later, she stopped abruptly in a clear area that she judged to be the center of the forest and crouched down in the very middle of the glade, resting her elbows on her suspended knees.
Terabyte shuttered her optics and spread out her finials to their full extent, allowing them to absorb the maximum input. She sighed contentedly smelling the damp forest, taking in the sounds of the crickets chirping, the owls hunting, the scrabbling of rodents, the soft rustle of the wind through the trees, the gentle whirr of her own and Arcee's systems.
For just a moment she could smell the jade, the diamond roses. She could see the bright triple moonshine streaming through the tall jade trees, she could feel the wild turbo-foxes curled up beside her, the mercury creek bubbling lazily over the golden pebbles, smell the distant, famed Protihexian silver factory. She could even, for just an astrosecond, hear her carrier and sire calling her name as they came looking for her in her quiet place.
"Beautiful place..." Arcee breathed, unknowingly shattering the peace and comfort she gathered from the memories. "How did you know about this?"
"I just did." She said quietly, her voice betraying an underlying sorrow that seeped into the peaceful atmosphere.
The other femme sat down beside her, pulling her pedes up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. For a while they sat in a companionable, thought-laden silence.
Terabyte looked up at the beautiful canopy overhead, watching as a barn owl swooped across the glade, disappearing through the branches, its shrill cry piercing the night.
Finally, the older two-wheeler asked exactly the same question Cliffjumper had not even a groon ago, "How do you deal with it?"
She gazed out into the dark woods sadly, her optics open, but unseeing. Terabyte echoed her previous words, "With what?"
"The loss. Of family, friends, loved ones." Arcee's engine hitched, "How do you deal with it?'
The ex-Con choked slightly, swallowing the painful jolt of her spark. She let out an icy cold, agonizingly humorless laugh, "Well, experience doesn't make it any easier."
"Nor does time." They finished in perfect sync.
The two femmes sighed together and sat in silence in the black of night, neither one wanting to disturb the solemn, peaceful void as they simply allowed their surroundings to absorb their attention, pulling their minds away from the even blacker void that was their minds and sparks.