Author's Note:
I've always had that idea that Cliff would never call Ratchet his name or even "Ratch" I always hear him saying "Doc" XD
TFP Armada was awesome! I'm officially rooting for something good to happen to Starscream. And these past episodes have so much that I can elaborate with Nightstalker on that I'm chewing my fingernails to the quick!
Oh, and there will be lemons later on. It's been a real long debate for me, and its a LONG way off, but I've decided there will be lemons. It's the only way it will work, I think . . .
After weeks of non-stop toiling, Ratchet finally finished Cliffjumper's new leg and attached it. Cliffjumper was eager to be on his feet after being designated to the berth for weeks, but Ratchet forced the excited mech to slow himself. Many injured biomechanics still resided in his new leg, and his full recovery would take time.
Instead, headstrong as he was, Cliffjumper ignored Ratchet, jumping up to his feet. He ignored the many spikes of pain and instead squatted, turning his back to Arcee. "C'mon," he said to her. "Forgive-me-back-ride."
Her optics blinked wide. "Wh-what? No! Cliff, you heard Ratchet. He doesn't want you exerting yourself."
Cliffjumper waved a hand at her, ignoring Ratchet's choice words. "Sure thing. I won't exert myself. Girl, you weigh nothing but a feather. Now hop on."
She sputtered more, optics opening wide at him. "Cliff, what are you even asking forgiveness for?"
He gave a light shrug, eyes twinkling back at her. "For worrying you. Also, for not waiting for backup like I should have."
"But, Cliff—"
"C'mon, Arcee!" he burst, waggling his fingers to urge her forward. Reattaching his leg had done wonders for his disposition as he realized he was becoming whole again. "I'm getting back to my old self—don't quit on me now! Hop on and let's go!"
With a half-compassionate half-disgruntled look, Arcee climbed on despite Ratchet's worried buzzing. "Don't blow a spark plug, Doc," Cliffjumper said with a rather lively grin. He could only hold one side of her since he was still missing a hand, but after getting his leg back he was in high spirits. "Just get working on my hand next, I'm going to need it!" Giving a laugh, Cliffjumper began to tote Arcee away. She rested her chin on his shoulder, nuzzling his cheek tenderly.
"Just once around Doc's computers," Cliffjumper said, forcibly ignoring how he was straining his new/repaired leg. "So I don't worry that fool doctor into a stupor. You'd swear he watches over us like a mother hen."
Arcee chuckled in his audio receptor. The sound was so warming to Cliffjumper's spark his eyes almost closed in bliss. "He has to keep an eye on you, Cliff," she teased him back. "You're the worst of us."
"Ha!" Cliffjumper shook his head. "I'm offended, Arcee! I happen to think I'm very great."
Arcee scoffed in his ear. "Right. You're the one that always gets himself into trouble, you're always breaking something, you're always rushing off into battle alone, you're always stubborn—"
"Hey now, woman!" he said with mock hurt. He hoisted her up better when her butt started to slip down. "I am an injured mech in recovery!"
Arcee made an unimpressed sound to express herself. "Please," she muttered, "don't remind me. Just how much is your leg hurting you right now?"
"Not enough to put a pretty femme like yourself down," he said smartly back, not wanting to elaborate that indeed his leg felt like it was on fire. As he carried Arcee piggy-back around to the front of the base again, Cliffjumper's eyes caught the humans at their couch, video games paused at the spectacle.
Cliffjumper let Arcee down when they finished their round. "Forgiven?" he asked with big puppy dog eyes.
She scoffed, muttering, "You are so infuriating . . ."
Cliffjumper grinned, kissed the top of her helm, and sauntered over to the humans and Bumblebee. "What's this stuff?" he asked, peering at the screen. A racing game, to be sure. "Video games?"
"Yeah!" Raf said excitedly. "You want to play?"
Bumblebee beeped at him *You don't have it in you, Cliff! I can race circles around you in real life AND in a video game!*
Cliffjumper snorted at Bumblebee's cocky declaration. "Just you guys wait until I get my other hand," he sneered, forcing himself not to stutter over the words. "You'll regret it then! Now let's see some racing! Raf, be sure to beat Bumblebee good for me this time!"
Raf grinned. "Sure thing, Cliffjumper!"
Over yet another week later from speaking with Cliffjumper did Nightstalker really begin to wonder what they were going to do with her.
They couldn't just keep her locked up in the back. She was using up their precious energon resources, after all, and it was better they find a useful way to use her. Possibly offer her to Starscream for something in return? Or would they finally just kill her and be done with it? After all, most of them probably lusted for her energon to be spilled. Optimus had promised she wouldn't come to harm, and Cliffjumper seemed to not hold a grudge against her. Surprisingly . . .
Instead, Nightstalker only saw Bumblebee go through the mechanical movements of giving her energon before retreating out with hesitant glances to her. There was one day he had come in late, stuttering some apology about a science project, but since Nightstalker kept silent and showed no interest, he had quickly shut his mouth. Figuratively.
It was a couple days later that Nightstalker began to feel prickly crawly things. They were imaginary touches, like bugs in her metal or a limb falling asleep. Nightstalker shifted in her corner, bound hand, foot, and wing. That uncomfortable sensation amplified slowly especially when Bumblebee didn't come with her standard ration of energon. Not that she couldn't go without a day of energon—she had enough in her reserves—but it was unnerving. He hadn't missed a day, even when he was busy.
Her answer came over an hour later. She began to hear the deep buzz far out in the base, and her spark sputtered to a stop. Her metal hinged up, and she fought against the stasis cuffs holding her captive, but it was useless—she was stuck, and the place was infected with scraplets!
Nightstalker swallowed her screams in hopes the distant bugs wouldn't find her. That was cruel, even for Autobots! To desert the place and leave her to be devoured by the heathenish things—Nightstalker quaked in her stasis cuffs, shrinking into her corner.
The day passed slowly, and with growing horror, Nightstalker heard the scraplets getting closer. Their constant sawing through metal rang out closer and closer, and Nightstalker held perfectly still, hoping to Primus that they bypassed her.
They didn't, the first one creeping through a vent up in the ceiling. Nightstalker's orange optics widened in horror, and she didn't move in hope it would go away. It didn't, but another joined, and another, and another . . .
One looked up. Nightstalker's spark stopped. With shrieking hisses, the scraplets attacked.
Nightstalker screamed freely then, immediately trying to lift her hands to swipe them away, but they were locked behind her back in stasis cuffs! Full-fledged panic tore across Nightstalker's sensors as she realized she was completely helpless, and she screamed and writhed on the ground as more scraplets began to pour into her room.
Nightstalker worked her way quickly across the room and began to bang against the door. "Help me!" she screamed out, not knowing if anyone was even still there. The scraplets bites grew forceful and eager as they feasted on her metal, energon beginning to pour from their tiny little bites all over. Nightstalker screamed, feeling one gnawing through her sensitive elbow.
"Help! Please! Somebody, I'm still here! I need help!"
She threw herself against the door, kicking it repeatedly and thrashing in pain as more scraplets poured in through the vent, eagerly eating her alive. Nightstalker shrieked when she felt one eating a trail up her helm, serrated teeth snapping through her audio receptor.
"Help me, please!" she cried out, kicking the door and jerking. She scraped her body against the floor, trying to squish the scraplets off without much of any success. Terror choked her vocal processor. She was going to die eaten by scraplets—!
"Please, help! Help! Anyone! Help me! I'm still in here!" Nightstalker's hysterical screaming didn't help as she felt two burrowing into her neck, the bugs swarming over her, beginning to dismantle everything. "HELP! PLEASE!" Nightstalker continued to screech until she suddenly fell through the door, slamming into the ground.
A cloud of white coldness washed over her body, and even though it was painful, the scraplets caught inside it slowed their mindless feast on Nightstalker's body. She heard tiny grunts, both feminine and male, and felt small bits of metal knocking off the scraplets alive and freezing. The coldness swept over her body and the scraplets continued to tinkle off of her until Nightstalker was left on her side, gasping in terror as her scared eyes collided with three small humans.
The girl with pink and black hair was particularly fierce as she took her wrench and smashed any scraplet that tried to get back up. The smaller boy with glasses slipping off his nose looked particularly scared as he picked up a tool kit a bit too big for him. The plainly dressed blacked haired male held the offending fire extinguisher and looked at her.
"You okay?" he asked. The smaller boy moved around to her feet, inspecting the stasis cuffs.
Nightstalker couldn't respond, but she was sure he saw her wild eyes as they jumped around, hearing more scraplets deeper in the base. Since she couldn't respond around terrorized vocals, he said, "Calm down. We're going to let you out of those cuffs. The Autobots are in the front—"
Nightstalker felt the cuffs around her feet pop open, and she didn't wait for the rest of his instructions. Leaping to her feet in fright, Nightstalker took off running down the halls, only vaguely aware of where she was going. Her fear gave her strength to ignore the wounds across her body. She skidded into the room full of computers to find four Autobots nearly glitching on the floor. Jerking in shock to see them all still in the scraplet-infected base, Nightstalker staggered back steps in shock and backed into the far corner, crouching and pressing there.
The big green one was there and the red and white medical officer. Between them was Cliffjumper and Bumblebee, both nearly passed out on their backs. They were all in just as bad shape as Nightstalker was, and she suddenly realized that their lives were depending on the humans to eradicate the bugs.
Cliffjumper lifted his head, tired and pained blue optics meeting her frightened orange ones. Nightstalker's wrists and wings strained against her bonds, and she wished desperately to be out of the forsaken base and fly into the sky, free from danger, and free from captivity.
Her spark felt a little lighter seeing that he had his right leg back, but her insides still clenched in dread knowing scraplets infected the base. Had she saved him only to prolong the inevitable? Was he going to die this day, devoured by scraplets?
The big green mech lolled his head tiredly. "So if we get . . . WHEN we get the ground bridge open . . . Do we send the creepy-crawlies out, or bring our bots in?"
Nightstalker cowered in her corner even though they ignored her, but the stiffness of a certain discolored grey/red mech spoke volumes that he could feel her presence in the room.
"Optimus and Arcee will be fresh meat," the red and white bot replied. He shifted uncomfortably, energon leaking from multiple wounds across his body. It also suddenly occurred to Nightstalker that the humans had saved them all from a scraplet attack also. "If we bring them in first, the scraplets will have no reason to leave. We'll need bait."
"We're we gonna get bait?" the frustrated green mech snarled back. "The scraplets already helped themselves to everything in here!" He threw an angry hand towards Nightstalker, and she jumped, cringing back into her corner. "You want bait, Ratchet, there's your bait! Let the scraplets take her!"
Nightstalker tried to stifle her gasps a bit unsuccessfully as she quaked in her corner, but a short growl punctuated the silence. "What are you, Bulkhead, a Decepticon?" she heard Cliffjumper bark. Nightstalker peeked up from behind her hitched up knees to see him propping himself up with narrowed eyes towards the big green mech. "That's despicable, and you know it! I don't care if she's a Decepticon or not, NO Cybertronian should suffer the fate of SCRAPLETS!"
Bulkhead narrowed his optics at Cliffjumper. "Is that it? I'm pretty sure no Cybertronian deserves torture like you endured, or have you forgotten that too?"
Nightstalker's eyes widened at this confrontation. Cliffjumper cringed visibly, a tiny shiver running through his body. Instead of capitulating to Bulkhead's sharp retort, he glared back with underlying fear. "And why is everyone so set on making me remember this?" he shot back, one hand he still retained clenching tight. "I know it happened! I endured it, Bulkhead, there's no need to make me keep reliving it!"
The green one turned his face away, eyes still brewing anger towards Nightstalker, but regretful of his outburst towards his friend.
Cliffjumper scowled. "Look at you all. You're all acting just alike, condemning her when she's changed now." He gave a harsh laugh. "I was the one that endured the torture, not you! That's the irony of all this. I was the one that suffered, and yet I'm more willing to forgive her and give her a chance than the rest of you?" He scoffed but laid back, weakened again by the bout with the scraplets. "I thought we were Autobots . . ." he muttered.
Nightstalker ducked her head back into her knees. She felt . . . ASHAMED that it had to be Cliffjumper of all people that defended her. He of all people should throw her willingly to the scraplets to save their hides, yet he took up for her? Why? She wasn't anything worth saving after everything she had done . . .
*Cliffjumper's right* she heard Bumblebee chirp quietly. *We—*
The swarm came sudden and fast, bursting vents from the high ceiling and coiling in hundreds above them, circling like vultures. Nightstalker tried to scream, but only a weak squeak made it past her vocals. Cliffjumper gave a despairing moan—Bulkhead jumped violently and pressed himself into the floor with a scared cry, eyes jumping. Ratchet just looked listlessly up to the ceiling, and Nightstalker's optics caught Bumblebee's optics.
The mech was younger than her, something she had noticed right away, but now, he suddenly seemed stripped of all his years. He wasn't even a warrior—he was still just a kid in so many ways! Nightstalker stared at him, the way he trembled in fear until his metal literally tingled together in rapid succession. His blue optics dilated, tightening with suppressed fear until there was barely a glow of his eyes.
Nightstalker felt a sudden surge of protection for this small bot. It was surprising to feel, but it absolutely overwhelmed her sensors. This was a feeling that had been reserved for only Fli-Ni—but why Bumblebee? The answer sang its way into her spark, howling in every vibe of her being.
This was her sisterly protection for Fli-Ni.
She couldn't debate why she suddenly felt this way about him, but she had a feeling it was because his scared blue optics held the same fear she had seen in Fli-Ni's optics just before that explosion had went off.
She wasn't about to let the same fate of death drag away this young mech.
"Ratchet!" Nightstalker jerked at the boy's shout as the three humans came dashing back in full speed. "All systems go!"
"Fire it up!" the girl yelled out after him, giving an excited fist-pump.
With a heavy groan, Ratchet forced himself to his feet. "Ground bridge . . . activated!" He pushed against the lever with the last of his strength, collapsing in a heap on the floor.
Nightstalker's spark jumped up and lodged in her throat. Jerking her gaze to the right where the ground bridge blasted on full force, Nightstalker realized that it was where they were trying to send the scraplets through. Looking up with mounting horror, Nightstalker watched the scraplets like a cloud of pestilence swarming above. A thick piece of the ceiling fell right in front of her, and Nightstalker shrieked when the dust rose, clouding her entire vision. She pressed fiercely into the corner, wings straining for freedom. Even if she escaped through the ground bridge, there was no running.
Instead, she heard him grumble, "Bait, huh?"
Nightstalker squeaked again when Bulkhead surged to his feet, staggering in front of the open ground bridge. Her optics popped huge as saucers when he waved his hand, catching the attention of all the scraplets.
"Ready for the main course?" he shouted up at them. They all opened their mouth with rows upon rows of serrated, churning teeth. "COME AND GET IT!"
Nightstalker cringed into herself, hoping that the mech was big enough that the scraplets would bypass her tiny form. Ratchet leaned over and pressed a hand on top of Bumblebee when he rose to look at his friend acting as bait. Cliffjumper lied flat, staring up blankly as the endless amounts of scraplets zoomed over his head.
Nightstalker ducked her head into her knees and prayed to Primus as she heard the buzzing of the scraplets amplify loud as they dashed past her right and through the ground bridge, hellishly bent on feeding on their prey.
However, her fears were for naught. The massing amounts of scraplets dashed straight through the ground bridge, every last one evacuating the area as they pursued Bulkhead through the twinkling lights. Ratchet lifted his head, staring as the base fell into blissful silence, vacant of any scraplets except for the many that already coated the floor.
The medic groaned heavily as he pushed himself to a standing position, staggering over to Nightstalker's left. She jumped, forcing herself into the wall as she watched his hands, unsteady with pain, pull out the two medical berths he had; his trembling fingers prepped the med bay as he grasped heavily upon anything to brace himself and keep himself upright.
Curled up in her awkward ball, Nightstalker watched the movement of the Autobot base. She was extremely surprised when she saw Optimus and Arcee stagger back in through the ground bridge, ice coating their bodies and cold secreting from their bodies. It suddenly occurred to Nightstalker that they had been in subzero conditions for some unknown reason.
With them came back Bulkhead, and the youngest human shut off the ground bridge as Ratchet forcibly ushered everyone into the small area as the medical cubicle. Everyone, that is, except Nightstalker who stayed in the place she was, curled up in a ball and leaking like the rest but not to get medical attention until everyone else was taken care of.
Arcee and Optimus defrosted quickly with the help of a machine and the warm temperatures of the base, but Arcee lied across one of the medical berths, exhausted and systems struggling to recalibrate. Cliffjumper lied next to her, periodically grinning and muttering something smart at her that would make her take a half-exuberant swat at him. He was being his simple pain in the butt; he'd poke at her; he'd pick on her; he'd just mess with her until she proclaimed that if he didn't stop she was going to put him in a stasis he wouldn't wake up from for a week.
Bumblebee was resting in a stasis hooked up to machinery as well. Bulkhead sat on the floor, wiped out as he leaned against the wall. Ratchet sat rigidly next to Optimus who lounged back, hips looking . . . very sexy in the position he was. Optimus looked relaxed, but his metal was still cold to the touch as his body slowly warmed.
Nightstalker was in pain, and her energon was really continuing to leak badly around her, but she couldn't find it in her to ask for medical assistance she didn't deserve. And, of course, the humans had taken over taking care of the heavily damaged bots.
"Report bio-circuitry status?" Ratchet asked professionally.
"Levels are rising," Jack said with a positive thumb up.
"Excellent. Rafael, keep a close watch on Bumblebee's electro-pulse monitor." He typed diligently on his own computer, listening to him without a word. "Miko, check Bulkhead's interface patch."
"It's steady," Raf replied.
Miko gave a thumb up also. "Looking good!"
Ratchet nodded. "Miko, how's Cliffjumper's patched left wrist?"
"Don't bother yourself, Doc," Cliffjumper's handsome voice echoed out tiredly. "Just fine, just fine . . ."
Ratchet sent a particularly severe glance to Miko, so she went ahead and checked it anyway. "It's holding up strong," she replied, referring to the metal that had been welded over the stump of his left wrist.
Ratchet nodded curtly, and Optimus leaned over. "Perhaps you should get yourself some rest, old friend." His face relaxed into a rare smile. "You saved quite a few lives today."
Nightstalker's orange optics were wide as she looked at those willfully strong humans hard at work, Raf attaching some wire Nightstalker didn't even know to Bumblebee's chest. "It . . . wasn't all my doing," Ratchet finally admitted, watching them hard at work. "We're just lucky this infestation happened . . ." he took a steadying and unbelieving breath, "on a Saturday."
"Our human friends may be small," Optimus said solemnly, "but they are strong."
Nightstalker cringed when her audio receptors were unprepared to pick up an extremely high-pitched scream.
It was unreal how quickly Jack and Raf had crowbars in their hands, aggressive stances taken. "Scraplets?" Jack burst, fearing just like Nightstalker did that a few had managed to stay in the base.
"SPIDER!" Miko shrieked at him. Her eyes widened in horror as she looked up and down her arms, all over her body. "Is it on me?" She proceeded to shriek screams, scrabbling at her arms and itching around her back as if it were crawling all over her, dashing out of the room with shrill cries. "Get it off!" she squawked faintly.
Bulkhead leaned over, watching her disappear down the hall. "Did she just scream like a little girl?"
Jack gave a helpless shrug. "Well, I suppose she is a girl . . ."
Raf wrinkled his nose a little. "But not little. I wouldn't have ever expected that from Miko. She's fearless!"
Nightstalker sat quietly in her corner, arms and wings still locked in their stasis cuffs. She watched as Jack and Raf returned to monitoring their hurt Autobot friends, and Optimus sent her a glance. She flinched back behind her knees, but he didn't say anything prodding and looked elsewhere for her comfort.
It was the first acknowledgement she had gotten from any of the Autobots that she was in the room. Granted, she didn't really want acknowledgement because she feared their condemnation of her, but Optimus's optics hadn't held any judgment of her . . .
Nightstalker's wings strained against her stasis cuffs, longing for freedom. As if on cue, she heard a mocking voice laugh in her ear.
"Well well well, Nightstalker, how do we fare today in the hold of the Autobots? Liking your confinement?" When Nightstalker held her silence, Starscream chuckled, extremely amused. "No? Well of course not. Have you ever taken a nighttime flight in the sky?" Nightstalker just barely managed to contain a destitute moan, pressing her helm more firmly into her knees than before. "Oh, be sure, it is quite the joy," Starscream continued. "It is so quiet and peaceful, not nearly so many of those pesky rodents driving on the roads and polluting the air. The stars twinkle like glitter on the murky cheeks of the night sky. . ."
Nightstalker tried desperately to tune out his enticing narrative of his most recent flight. Instead, she looked up to the six Autobots and two humans in the room. "Optimus Prime—"
She choked off suddenly when every eye in the area turned towards her. She had started strong with her declaration, but now with everyone's attention centered on her, she lost her nerve. Nightstalker shied back, especially at the curious and wary optics of Cliffjumper.
"I—I—" Nightstalker swallowed, dropping her face away. "I—I said that—I wanted to surrender, but . . ." Nightstalker took a shuddering breath, forcing herself to look into Optimus's blue optics when she declared quietly, "I want to defect to Autobot."
Utter silence blanketed the room at her proposition. Optimus shifted positions, turning more towards her. Arcee gave her dagger eyes, so did Bulkhead and Ratchet, but Cliffjumper just remained as wary, curious, and confused as before.
"Why do you suddenly wish to defect sides?" Optimus asked her gravely.
Her wings still strained against her cuffs with renewed intensity at Starscream's ongoing narrative in the back of her mind. "I—I—" She hesitated to say it was Cliffjumper. He was certainly an ongoing motive though, but with the way Arcee glared at her with murderous intent it made her wiring curdle with fear. "C-C-Cliffjumper, for one," Nightstalker stuttered, unable to keep looking over there when Cliffjumper was looking at her. "A-and the humans."
Optimus's optics studied her closely. "Cliffjumper I understand, but the humans? Pray, explain yourself."
"T-they . . ." Nightstalker had to look up to see them, and she saw that the frightened Miko was back. All three looked at her, knowing why she had suddenly changed her mind, but still bewildered that they had that much power over her. "They could have easily left me to the scraplets," she muttered, hitching her legs tighter to her chest. Nightstalker let her eyes drift down to the side, unable to look at them. "But they didn't. Even knowing I was a Decepticon. Even knowing what I did to—C—C—" Nightstalker stumbled across his name, unable to even say it around the guilt that clawed at her throat.
There was a long silence. She felt each beat of her spark in her chest hard and painful—whether for want of their acceptance or dread for the coming execution, she wasn't sure.
"Your request is granted."
Nightstalker looked up in surprise, but so did Arcee, optics black with fury as she situated herself between Nightstalker and Cliffjumper. "Optimus, you can't honestly be serious this time! We KNOW what she did to Cliffjumper! You can't honestly let that glitch run free around here!"
Optimus leveled a stern frown on her. "Arcee, my judgment is not for you to question. This—"
"I think it is mine to question after terrorizing Cliffjumper like that!" she snarled back, surprising strength coming from the source of her hatred. Nightstalker flinched and cringed when Arcee glared blackly at her. "You can't honestly expect me to take this atrocity in stride after she nearly killed and mentally scarred Cliff!"
Nightstalker quaked in rising fear, struggling to control her gasps especially when reminded by her burning guilt. She wanted to tear out her communications because Starscream still taunted her endlessly with his joy-riding flight.
"Arcee," she heard Cliffjumper say quietly, "it's all right—"
"No it's not!" she retorted back, feverish eyes slamming into his. "You can't even look at her straight, and you're sitting here shaking!"
"I said it's all right!" Cliffjumper shouted back. Silence fell over the room at his sudden vehemence, and Nightstalker heard his metal trembling. "If she wants to be an Autobot, fine. I KNOW what she did to me, Arcee. I don't need you reminding me as if my hand isn't enough to cause a recap!"
Arcee flinched at his hard words, optics widening. Nightstalker peeked up from behind her knees, seeing Cliffjumper sitting up too, his right hand clutching the berth until it began to give way beneath his servos. "Arcee, it's not just me," he muttered to her in the silence. "You're taking it way too personal because she used Arachnid's venom." Arcee recoiled again as if he had struck her.
Cliffjumper's optics were pinned to the floor, and it didn't take Nightstalker any time to figure out that he refused to look at her. Either that, or he couldn't bring himself to look at her. "And the sick irony is I'm more willing to give her a chance than you guys, and I was the one tortured. If anything, I should be the one that wanted to throw her to the scraplets." His hand tightened, crunching the edge of the berth beneath his tightening force. The words gritted out from between his dentures. "Let her out of those cuffs, Optimus, she's one of us now."
When no one else raised any objections that thrummed unspoken beneath the surface, Optimus rose and walked her way. Nightstalker cowered when he approached, towering eons above her, but he was just as gentle and patient as last time. Optimus's hands deftly removed the stasis cuffs from Nightstalker's wrists, and then, her wings.
Nightstalker gasped when the pressure suddenly released from her wings, falling forward on her hands. Her wings—they were free! Nightstalker trembled on her hands and knees, flexing her wings as much as she could; left, right, up, and down. Her breaths were coming too fast and heavy, shuddering and audible, but she didn't care—her wings—they were free, and that was all that mattered. She literally had to withhold herself from weeping with relief. She stretched her wings as her hands tightened on the floor, having to physically restrain herself from transforming and taking off then in the need for flight. It didn't help that Starscream was still taunting her with his nighttime flight among the stars and kissed with the luminous light of the moon. She hadn't truly realized exactly how oppressed and suffocated she had felt with her wings bound, or how poetic Starscream could become when he wanted to.
Nightstalker jerked out of her indulgence of moving her wings when Optimus touched a gentle hand to her shoulder. She lurched away violently from his him, spark pounding rapidly inside of her with barely controlled panic.
His azure optics shimmered with something close to compassion. "You may come closer, Nightstalker, so you may be repaired as well."
Optimus retreated backward then, keeping his optics on her but sensing her need for a certain radius to be anywhere near comfortable. Nightstalker fluttered her wings open and closed restlessly like a butterfly, unmoving from her far corner until Miko walked forward a few steps and put her hands on her hips.
"Look, you've got to get over here so we can hook you up to the machines," Miko said. She made a clear gesture for Nightstalker to get closer. "Come on!"
Trembling violently, Nightstalker crept closer, edging away from Cliffjumper and closer towards the hulking Optimus since Arcee had a glare like death for her. Miko approached with a tube that would help stabilize her currently glitching systems. Nightstalker suspected it was stress, but it could be worse from the scraplets, after all.
Nightstalker shied away again when Miko approached closer with the wiring. Miko huffed, frowning at the former Decepticon before her. "What is WRONG with you?" she asked pointedly. "You act like you're afraid of your own shadow! I'm tiny compared to you! And I'm not even like a scraplet, my teeth are as dull as they get. I couldn't hurt you if I wanted. Jeez."
Nightstalker's shaking escalated when Miko touched her and attached the wire to her chest, but the girl didn't hurt her at all, just muttered something and went to talk to Raf and Jack about her status.
Jack turned around first. "Nightstalker, your spark rate is too high. You need to calm down." Nightstalker jerked at his gentle informing voice. "Can you turn on your cooling fans for me? You're core temperature is too high as well."
Still quivering like a leaf in the wind, Nightstalker did as he asked without a word. Instead, as Starscream continued to narrate a glorious nighttime flight, it nearly drove Nightstalker mad with longing—she was so close—so close! Her wings were free, and yet she still couldn't go out and fly! Her seeker mind was closing in on itself, slowly losing it without having flown for nearly a month.
Her eyes flicked to Cliffjumper, but his mouth was pressed in a thin line and his hand still clenched the berth tightly. Nearly senseless with the desire to fly, unwelcome by any Autobot, and delusional from the Decepticon voices that could mock her at every turn, Nightstalker bent over herself and clenched her hands to her helm, struggling to contain her rising hysteria; her desperate wings fluttered like a panicked, caught butterfly.
She pressed her face into her knees to hide the lubricant leaking from her eyes. She didn't want this. Even her loathsome job as a torturer was beginning to seem better. Primus, she didn't even want that, she just wanted—she wanted—
A scream nearly tore from her throat. She wanted out! She wanted the free skies that never judged her! She wanted Fli-Ni! She wanted her brother to cradle her in his arms and promise her everything would be all right! Everything would be all right! Everything would be all right—!