Solas actually likes Fera?
*le gasp* what a shocker!
Is our Guardian actually making a little friend?
Of The Spark And Heart
Part 1
Chapter 24
Ratchet took himself to the other side of the room, opposite of where a certain mech who had overstepped his bounds waited. The CMO was completely blanketed in both anger and shock. Solas had come in so calmly and then everything had just escalated from there. Why had he reacted so violently? Ratchet took a chance to glance between the human on the berth and the mech by the other wall. He again seemed caught in his own world, not even taking the time to keep an optic over his shoulderbolt as he often did after a fight. It was a small thing of habit, but Ratchet had noticed enough to see it now.
The fact that Solas was behaving so differently than normal meant that something had changed. Drastically in the last. He always seemed to have either anger or pain in his expression as of late, where as earlier, he had a good variety of healthy emotions. Something at some point must have happened to make him act in such a way.
There was no doubting the protective bond that appeared forming between the Guardian and his guarded, but to go this far to just be near her meant something completely else. At the instant when he held his fist back and was about to bring it forward to a defiant CMO, Fera had stopped him. With one word. A simple, singular word. Ratchet narrowed his optics in suspicion. How could just one word of a human create a larger effect in a livid mech's actions than that of a trained medic's? The Stone of Primus was apart of this. He believed it with his very spark. Now there was just the issue of proving his hypothesis.
Moving from his position by the wall, Ratchet slowly made his way across the room and back to Fera. Solas turned in his peripheral and Ratchet turned his cranial unit to hold him with a vicious glare hot enough to melt his protoform. Sol saw the look and froze instantly, a look of guilty hesitance over his features. At least it wasn't angry again.
Ratchet reached the female and he bent over her to assess what was ailing her. "Fera, are you alright?" he murmured softly. He understood that when a human was put through large bouts of stress, their cranial cavities would become fairly sensitive to both light and sound. This in consideration, Ratchet would be careful not to put her through more than she could handle. Fera nodded, wrapping her arms around her midsection. This seemed to be the spot she went to most for her pains and Ratchet made a note in his processor to go more in-depth about it later.
"Let me see." as gently as he could, Ratchet brushed Fera's arm and she slowly released her stomach before giving a wince. "It hurts." she complained pathetically, holding her arms away only at a short distance. Ratchet lowered himself to look over her stomach, where he found no sign of blood or visible substance. He would have to scan her.
As if that worked so well the last time, he thought derisively.
"What do you feel?" he asked, having her lift her shirt just above the stomach cavity. If only for a few bruises across the pale skin, there was nothing there. Fera paused with the question and Ratchet allowed her to lower her shirt. "Like I've done a million crunches." she answered. Ratchet saw the humor in the comment, but not in the way she'd said it. She really did feel uncomfortable.
"You're experiencing cramps and some tenderness around your midsection?" he inquired. Fera nodded and crossed her legs before her.
Deathly serious, Ratchet got down to her level and fixed her with a steady gaze. "Have you taken any reproductive interests in the male classifications of your species?"
For a few nanoclicks, Fear just stared at him. She then looked away and muttered something to herself. Her reaction was confusing, but Ratchet blamed the light pain medications he had given her. When her mumbling stopped and her eyes went wide, Ratchet knew she understood. Fera gripped her stomach suddenly and whipped around.
"I'm not pregnant Ratchet!" she exclaimed.
Ratchet drew back at the level of her voice and he studied her odd actions. Wasn't a child good in human culture? Wasn't it celebrated and cause for wondrous joy? It was in Cybertronian tradition, especially when a fembot was so young. It meant she would be able to create again. But a human female conceiving so young apparently was looked down upon in some societies. "Fera, I only asked what I thought was afflicting you. I didn't mean to upset you." he said, holding back the intrigue he held. He would like to know more on the matter, considering the humans' heritage.
"A baby isn't the upsetting part Ratchet, it's the fact that my mother would kill me if I did!" Fera went on, looking away with a soft pink flush over the flesh of her cheeks. She was embarrassed? Over this? "The creation of life is nothing to be punished over." Ratchet knitted his optic ridges and did the smallest scan he could muster. It would only give him a fuzzy look at the surface of her muscles, but that was better than nothing.
When his scans began, Fera wrapped her arms tightly around herself and she let loose a low moan. Ratchet sighed and stopped his examination before he caused any more trouble than necessary. "You need to rest." he stood straighter and looked down on the young female. "I will be nearby if you should need me." he looked to Sol, who was in turn watching Fera when she had made the discomfortable sound of pain.
"I still need to examine your spark Solas." he commented simply.
Solas snapped his optics to Ratchet, but he said nothing as he stood still. To further insist, Ratchet jerked his helm towards the door. "In another room Sol."
The Guardian looked like he was about to argue, but Fera cut in before he could. "No." she called. Both mechs looked to her in surprise. Suddenly under two heavy gazes, the human shrunk into herself and looked to want to disappear. "I mean...could you...maybe..." she avoided both sets of optics and Ratchet waited in patient interest. "Just do it here." finally, she formed a complete sentence, and still her eyes wandered everywhere but to Ratchet's or Sol's optics.
A little surprised at first, Ratchet's optic ridges came up. He looked back to Solas, who was already watching for his answer. He seemed to have wanted to hear the same thing, but didn't take the effort to ask. Opening a silent comlink, Ratchet responded only to him. ~Will you respect everything I ask of you and make sure your aft stays in its place around my patient?~ he demanded. Solas acquired the message and he nodded. ~I swear. You can look at my spark so long as you leave us be afterward. I want to talk with her once this is over.~ to this request, Ratchet agreed, and the A-B conversation died.
Solas walked over to the berth to carefully and slowly slide over the top. He squirmed to a more solid position beside Fera. Soon, he was sitting with his legs hung over the table and one of his servos close to the human he'd been charged with. Fera sat nearby, not touching him, but just in a comfortable distance.
Ratchet opened Solas' chassis paneling and they clicked aside with a smooth glide. Ratchet would have been impressed if he hadn't already been expecting some form of newer upgrade to most of Solas' parts. The Stone of Primus was definitely capable of great things. To fix a few minor parts wouldn't even drain a nanobite of energy. Ratchet carefully dipped his servos inside Solas' chassis cavity and he moved aside the internal barriers surrounding Sol's spark. The wiring around it also reacted and lifted out of the way as Ratchet was able to place restraining clips on the retractable walls surrounding Solas' spark chamber. He then moved on and exposed the sensitive essence inside the chamber. The vivid blue light bled from the container and floated out over Ratchet's faceplates and plating. For any other being besides Cybertronian, including that of a human, would be interested and almost in awe of the spark. But for Ratchet, it was just another, regular old beating core.
Except for the fact that this spark was floating over a not-so-regular regular hover absorber.
Swallowing back his shock, Ratchet held an unaffected expression for his patients. They were watching him work, but they hadn't yet noticed his apprehension. He took note of the strange edge to the wires in Solas' frame and how they flowed with an odd new energy. Ratchet gently touched one of them and used the sensors in his the tips of his digits to try and decipher what it was. Again and again he went through his systems in his CPU. And each time, they came up the same: Source not found. Nothing.
~Optimus.~ the medic opened the private comlink and he stole a glance up at his patient. Solas was staring forward into nothing, his expression dull. Fera was below Ratchet's arm, watching with new interest at what it was the medic was doing to her Guardian.
~Yes Ratchet?~ the Prime responded.
~Are you busy?~
~As of now? No, I am just in company with Rethalia.~
~Good. I need to speak with you about something.~
~What is it?~
Ratchet shuttered his optics and again checked the hover absorber. The same reaction came from both his research and emotion.
~Solas.~
~What has he done? Is everything alright?~
~I don't know Optimus. I don't know.~
The room sit shadowed in darkness, the only light coming from the large screen on the wall. Lettering and maps unfamiliar to the human species scanned quickly over the surface before disappearing and being replaced immediately after. The light cascaded over the tall metal shelves and trickled into the many crevices of the boxes fitted into the spaces. Scraps of random shrapnel and tools littered the floor, some shoved into the corners while others appeared set on the tabletop of a desk.
A figure sat in a large chair, facing the screen with focused concentration. A large keyboard sat before them, spread wide with hundreds of keys over the surface. One servo hovered over them and entered a few codes every so often before the screen changed again. Their other was scrolling through the pages one by one, using their slim digits to snap each group of information to the next. Their lithe frame was leaned forward until their tank cavity was almost pressed against the keyboard. Their slim arms connected to slightly square shoulderbolts and a sharp chassis.
A narrow set of faceplates became settled in both disappointment and frustration as bright red optics dipped to a darker shade. A helmet both boxy and full of angular lines fit snuggly to a smaller cranial unit and the two wings on their back hunched slightly with the building impatience. The Decepticon insignia was worn proudly over their chassis.
Suddenly, the screen froze and the Decepticon snarled, throwing their clenched servos in the air and slamming them over the keyboard. "Useless scrap of human technology!" the ice-smooth voice of the angered 'Con cried.
Shoving back her chair, the fembot threw it from behind her as she suddenly stood and whipped away from the screen. "I am taken from position of acceptable standard by that cretin Arachnid and she dares now provide me with but primitive devices!" snatching a random object from the shelf, the fembot pivoted on her heelped and chucked it at the screen. It bounced off and flew back through the air, clattering to the floor by her peds.
Snorting in disgust, the Decepticon turned to the door of the room and stalked out, unable to even look at the computer if she was to not destroy it. The blaster in her right arm hummed with silent energy and just begged to be let loose. The fembot stomped through the hall and past one of the soldiers, nearly running him over as he jumped to the side to avoid her. The fembot ignored his presence and made her way through the corners and down the paths with the many doors aligning them.
Maybe she could 'accidentally' deactivate some drones in the base...
As appealing as this thought was, she kept it to herself and let her anger seethe into a frothing bubble of broiling aggravation. The only thing she wanted to put a hole in was that sorry excuse for a lotta leader she begrudgingly followed each and every order from.
-A lotta is a form of prostitute on Cybertron, offered as both a form of consort or pleasure by a Crident (evicted criminal who's CPU had been completely wiped and has had a complete revamp) or some other Cybertronian (Mech or Fembot) to repay debts or just to gain extra credits. However, it is an extremely degrading occupancy and is illegal on most parts of Cybertron.-
If not for this fembot's undying loyalty to her faction, she would have walked out vorns ago. Things had been so much different when their former leader had been alive and threatening the simpletons he called his fellow Decepticons. Things had been so much different when she had found herself looking forward to hearing his order and the dark joy she had felt when he praised her efforts.
The fembot lessened her gait, but she still held the solid fury that had been building for so long. When he had been here, things had been organized and soldiers had stayed in their places. Ignorant, scheming fembots had remained in the background until they were needed. When she'd been required, she came without question. It wasn't his orders that had jarred her resolve and sick, twisted spark. It hadn't been the fact that he used her as a personal lotta. It had been the realization that she had begun to look forward to these sessions with him.
And that he only would come to her. He would only use her. He never made Arachnid his personal consort. Only her.
Her lip plates slipped into a sly smirk and she held her files to the front of her CPU. He had only wanted her throughout those last few decacycles. Those sessions and rough moments of privacy were what Arachnid had only dreamt about when trying to climb that ladder of hierarchy. She could have only envisioned just what she had experienced with him. But only she had gained the pleasure of bedding with the greatest ever leader of the Decepticon cause. Only she.
"Flamewar, Arachnid is looking for you." a soldier jumped in her line of view and Flamewar lifted her faceplates to see him. Just another 'Con whom she cared not to remember the designation of. "Where is she?" Flamewar demanded, irritated at the soldier's apparent lack of importance. The soldier stood taller and seemed to take note of her low tone. "She would like to meet with you in her office." he informed.
Narrowing her optics, Flamewar studied the soldier and gave a rumble of her chassis. "Are you trying to intimidate me soldier?" she questioned, fixing herself to the floor by an almost unnoticed movement of preparedness. The soldier lowered his mandible point and he smirked. Smirked. "Shall a mere scientist deserve anything more than that of which I give you? If to answer your question, then yes, I'm trying to put you in your place fembot." he sneered.
The moment these words left his vocal processor, Flamewar had the mech's armoring in her servos. She then had him off his peds and on the ground in only a nanoclick. Both his arms were pinned behind him, with his faceplates smashed into the steel ground. Flamewar held herself tall and calm over the mech below her, looking down at him with a hint of distaste.
Slowly, she leaned down beside the disabled mech and heard the suffering pressure his vents were being put through. They wheezed and strained, creaking whenever Flamewar knelt a certain way. "Unless you wish for your glossa to be ripped from you, I suggest you never speak with me in such a tone again. Compute?" when he didn't immediately answer, she kneed him harder in the spinal support. He groaned painfully and his faceplates twisted in discomfort. "Computed." he conceeded.
Flamewar tossed the embarrassed soldier from her and she straightened, finally noticing the small crowd that had gathered around them. They were just watching from afar, shock clear on their expressions. Flamewar raised her mandible point and she again looked down at the soldier by her ped. "Pathetic pile of scraps- all of you." she spat derisively, again turning away from her subordinates as she took up her direction towards the office of that oh-so-hated leader she so fondly saw as nothing worth more than the organic dirt beneath her heelpeds.
One more time, the beaming fembot tossed the small joy in her servos and she giggled cheerfully. Rethalia drew her small sparkling closer and they brushed noseplates, causing another bout of laughs to come from little Liora. The sparkling was definitely bigger now, but she was still small compared to others her age. Even then, Rethalia loved her young one dearly, and she couldn't help but smile every time she saw her faceplates. The sparkling laid tiny servos on the sides of her fembot creator's cheekplates, holding her there. Rethalia gazed into her precious Liora's optics and kissed the tip of her noseplate.
The two beings were back in Optimus and Rethalia's personal quarters, sat atop the large berth stationed there. Rethalia had came here shortly after gaining Liora from Ratchet again, finding that the sparkling was far from ready to take any short recharge. But Rethalia hadn't minded her extra energy, actually being relieved from it, as it gave her something to do while she waited for the return of her sparkmate.
Rethalia held her sparkling away and just smiled at the young one. Liora smiled back and her small optics glowed bright. At that moment, nothing mattered. There was no war. There was no Arachnid. And Rethalia's unit hadn't been brutally killed one by one...
She scooted across the berth so that one of her legs could be folded over the top while the other would hang off the edge. She then placed her sparkling on top of her leg and carefully held her up so that she didn't fall over.
"Who am I?" she asked, ducking lower.
Liora giggled again, sending Rethalia's spark in a fluttering stretch of joy. That sound was so beautiful. So innocent.
"Tia." she warbled with an underdeveloped vocal processor. This gained another small laugh from her creator. "No, no you silly sparkling." shifting her servos, Rethalia lifted a digit and held it before her young one, who looked at it curiously. "Say Rethalia." she told the wide optics of the one before her. Liora almost looked confused before she made an odd face and rearranged her lip plates to different shapes. The look alone sent another wave of humor through Rethalia, but she held back the chuckling because she knew just how hard her sparkling was actually trying.
"Reh...tali...ter...rea?" her small faceplates contorted and she looked up. Rethalia grinned softly and shook her cranial unit. "Rethalia. Re-ta-lia." she mouthed each syllable and continued to do so as Liora shaped her face to mimic her fembot creator's. "Ret...Retali...tal...lia. Retali..." the sparkling strained over and over to get the correct sounds out, trying her best to copy the expression of Rethalia. Once more, Rethalia sounded out her designation and she lifted her optic ridges in expectancy. She was so close. "Retali...tali..." after a few more tries, the sparkling squeezed her optic slips shut and she balled her small fists.
"Tia! You Tia!" she pouted, apparently giving up on her practice of speech. Rethalia grinned gently and she lifted her sparkling again, cradling her in one arm. "Yes. I am your Tia. And you are my little Liora." she murmured, nudging her cranial unit into the sensitive crook of Liora's neck. The sparkling laughed with ticklish delight and she quickly took up Rethalia's faceplates as she tried pulling away.
Surprised, Rethalia remained still and watched her sparkling. Liora had a look of utter concentration now over her faceplates, her lip plates moving and reshaping. It was a few nanoclicks before she actually made any sound.
"Retali...Rethalia." she whispered simply. As if it were a secret. As if it were the most private thing shared between them. Rethalia's mandible parted and she stared at her young one. Pride and warmth spread through her like wildfire and she instantly locked away that one single mutter of her designation before it slipped away. It was going to be saved deep into her core, along with every single moment of her life cycle that seemed too precious to miss. It would be burned into her forever, just one small word from her offspring that sent her in a hurry to open a personal comlink to her bonded. ~Rethalia? Is there something wrong?~ he questioned almost worriedly.
Rethalia pulled her faceplates away and she cradled Liora in the nook of her arm, her free servo now in the grasp of the curious sparkling. Without a word, Rethalia sent him the recording of Liora's words, even the attempts she had made beforehand. The bond became flooded in happiness and overwhelming love. He was always the emotional mech, wasn't he?
~Could I have asked for anything better?~ Liora gently studied her fembot creator's servo and she went on to look over her digits. She then held up her own servo to compare. Rethalia cracked an amused smile at this, suddenly bending her digits to break the sparkling's focus. Liora's optics flicked to her creator and she smiled, repeating Rethalia's designation again and again. ~No. It was absolutely perfect.~ he agreed gently. Together, Rethalia hacked a line into his optic sensors and she allowed him to see everything she was. To be so close to the sparkling and to feel her there was enough for the both of them. It always would be. ~Have her say my name.~ he sent softly.
Rethalia started to sweetly rock her sparkling and she got a little closer. "Who is Mime?" she questioned. Optimus chuckled at the nickname.
Liora processed for a moment and then her optics brightened, her understanding having a new energy wafting from her. She jumped in her creator's arms and she snapped from her near-nap. "Mime! Mime is Mime!" she chirped happily, sitting up. Rethalia shifted Liora so that the sparkling could be more comfortable. Liora twisted around to look back at the door, maybe expecting her creator to be there. ~I'm not there my young one.~ he sent gently, reaching out through their bond. Liora perked up and brought both servos to her small chassis.
"Mime! Mime is 'ere. In 'ere." she softly patted her chassis and looked down at it. Rethalia rubbed her digit on her sparkling's leg and the small being looked back up. "Who is he?" she asked. Liora's expression became confused again and she tipped her cranial unit to the side. "Mime is Mime." she answered bewilderedly. Rethalia shook her helm and fixed her small creation with forced seriousness. "Say Optimus." she instructed, keeping the line with her bonded open wide so as not to have him miss a sparkbeat.
Optimus remained quiet as Liora mouthed the sounds of his name one by one. "Op...ius...mas...Opimus." her optic ridges rose and Optimus let loose a set of small laughs. Rethalia could hold back the grin playing with her lip plates and she too chuckled. She lifted a servo and cupped Liora's faceplates, giving a reassuring grin. "Op-ti-mus." she drug out. Liora silently sounded it out to herself again, watching Rethalia carefully.
"Op..tim...us. Opti...mus." giving her own pout of frustration, Liora frowned deeply and continued to speak to herself. ~She is a very smart sparkling.~ Optimus noted proudly. Rethalia quietly agreed and she patiently waited for her sparkling to say the very thing she tried so hard to pronounce. ~I will say she acquired that from you.~ Rethalia sent back, shaking her cranial unit as Liora said her mech creator's designation wrong again. ~Oh? I would disagree Rethalia Prime. It is you whom she gained such knowledge from.~ he responded.
Rethalia mouthed Optimus' name again and the sparkling before her did the same. ~Then would that suggest you trust me to make the final decision on our sparkling's youngling shell?~ she inquired teasingly. Optimus 'hm'ed' over the connection and he pretended to ponder her question. ~I trust you. However I would like to view it before we give it to Ratchet.~ negotiations were not his strong point, and yet Rethalia felt no reason to disagree. If he trusted her, than he trusted her. Even if he didn't.
"Optimus."
It was so sudden and unexpected that Rethalia jerked at the word. Liora was clapping in Rethalia's lap, her faceplates alight in pure happiness. Rethalia's lip plates broke into a wide grin and she kissed Liora's foreplate. "That's right my precious sparkling. Optimus."
"So that should do it. But, just to make sure, I wouldn't put it through too much too soon." Ratchet wiped his servos together and he backed up. The large mech before him lifted his leg and tested out his newly fixed kneebolt, taking the time to carefully pivot it and twist it into the basic positions. "Good. Now move it like this." Ratchet demonstrated and the Prime performed it perfectly. "Now this." he moved it again and Optimus followed. Ratchet closed the protective armoring of Optimus' kneebolt and he finally stood straighter.
When Ratchet had arrived in Optimus' office, he had sent out a private comlink to Hawktail to bring the necessary materials that would be needed for Optimus' replacement. The mech had complied and had met Ratchet outside of Optimus' door. Now, the three Cybertronians had been there for little over half a joor, Ratchet quietly working while Hawktail stood in the background until he was needed.
Picking up one of his more smaller hammers, Ratchet approached Optimus' kneebolt again. "Ok Optimus, tell me if this bothers you." he tapped the tool lightly against the new repair. Optimus shook his cranial unit. "Tell me when." the CMO went on to continue tapping Optimus' kneebolt until he was causing quite a clamor throughout the room. But every time, Optimus gave him the same response. There were three reasons this may have been:
One: Optimus truly felt no pain from the actions of his medic.
Two: He was faking the abilities of his kneebolt and had actually felt some discomfort, but had chosen not to say.
Or three: The sensory wires in his kneebolt were shot.
Mumbling to himself, Ratchet reopened Optimus' kneebolt and checked around. Indeed, the wires were twisted. No signals were reaching from the point to his CPU, so the feeling in his kneebolt was just numb. "You could have told me you felt nothing." he grumbled irritably.
"You hadn't asked."
Sighing heavily from his vents, Ratchet untangled the last of the wires and he closed the panel. However, before he removed himself, he gave a small pulse of electricity from the tip of his digit to Optimus' sensitive repair. The mech jumped from the shock and Ratchet drew back his arm. "Don't be a smartaft." he scolded. His leader moved off the bench and towards his desk, maybe sensing the medic's waning patience. "Well that was unnecessary." he mumbled, shuffling through something on his desk. Ratchet narrowed his optics and scanned the small compads. "I'm guessing you felt it then. Good. That means your functions are back online properly."
Optimus glanced up at Ratchet, and the CMO took note of the clench of his mandible. But then he backed off of the Prime, finally gaining the data from his scans. They were the casing samples he had given Rethalia. That realization almost had him smiling. A sparkling. And one he would be building a casing for no less.
"I'm sure you called this meeting for more than just to chastise your patient Ratchet. I would really like to know why." Optimus put in, setting down the samples and placing one in his bracer. Yeah- that had been the one Ratchet liked too.
Ratchet nodded, in a slightly better mood, and he turned around to dismiss the smith at the door. Hawktail gave a respectful nod to both of them and he turned to leave. He is a mech of few words, Ratchet noted silently. The doors closed behind Hawktail and Ratchet turned back around. "I'm sure you know of the anomaly in Solas Kaon's spark?" he asked.
Optimus nodded.
"And you know of the recent revival of his essence by way of the Stone of Primus?"
Another nod.
"Then you will believe me when I tell you what I came to find in my observation of Solas' spark chamber."
There was a pause from the Prime and he set down the compad in his servo. His full attention was on Ratchet now, his lip plates drawn into a deep frown. "What was it?" he inquired, turning to completely face the CMO. The mech in turn took a deep intake into his vents. If he had his facts correct and his information in their right place, then his hypothesis shouldn't be too extravagant. Right?
"Recently, I have noticed the sudden protective drive that has developed between Solas and the human Fera, though all he has known her for is shortly over two months' time." he began, receiving only silence as a response. Ratchet suddenly started to slowly pace back and forth before the Autobot commander, taking up the familiar anxious habit of the younger mech in mention. "Now this is possibly because of his Guardian's position over her and the loyalty to this title that he holds. However, his pride in this base of trust is also a possibility."
"You feel his duty is what binds them as the comrades I see them becoming?" Optimus inquired. Ratchet raised a digit and Optimus fell quiet once more. "Possibly. I said possibly." halting by the wall to Optimus' right, Ratchet looked to the ground and he crossed his arms over his chassis. There was the theory of Solas' growing fondness over the female as just the birth of a form of friendship. But even then, he was weary around her and Ratchet was on more than one occasion, witness to their squabbles.
It was this fact that had him delving deeper into the realities; the chances; the maybes. "Now there is also the evidence of his abrupt awakening that Fera had, in my processor, been the source of. The Stone of Primus is capable of things we have not yet the knowing of. If it is as able as I fear it is, then it could very well be the next AllSpark." he grew even more serious after this comment, looking up at his leader for a reaction. There really wasn't one, just a mask of unreadable emotion that he all-too-often wore.
"Now, that said, I do feel like it had affected him in some way." Ratchet went on, seeing there was no answer from the still Prime. "When I would scan Solas from time to time, I would notice a strange difference in his spark. Now granted, I had not yet decided what it was, but I had a suspicion-"
"Which was?" Optimus cut in, interrupting him. Ratchet stopped mid-step and he lifted his cranial unit. He'd been pacing again. "That Solas' spark had been changed, maybe deformed by the Stone. But this was different. 'It blew my mind out of the water' as the humans would say." he walked closer to the desk of Optimus' and he picked up a compad. When he found it was blank, he plugged in his digit tip and he uploaded the picture. "It actually had been his hover absorber, not only the spark itself." He himself studied the picture for a moment before handing it to Optimus. "Look to the absorber. You'll see the marking there, correct? It's something I've never seen before." he waited as Optimus looked over the picture.
He soon was done with it and he looked over the device at the CMO. "What about his spark?" he inquired. Ratchet took the compad and pointed out the odd areas he had noticed. "You see how the casing is different? And the overall shape? This, this right here is what concerned me." he moved his digit to the very top center of the spark. Optimus squinted his optics and he looked at it for a moment. Ratchet could see the surprise on his faceplates the sparkbeat he realized. "That's the mark of a-"
"Yes, yes I know." Ratchet said, lowering the pad. "But he's not. If he was, he would have this mark on his chassis." Ratchet lifted a servo and jabbed a digit at the nearly invisible arch above Optimus' Autobot insignia. It was more like a scar, and would usually be put off by any drifting optic. "Then what is it? If he doesn't bear this mark, but he does that, then what does that mean? Is it somehow connected to the symbol on his hover absorber?" Optimus asked. Ratchet tossed the compad back on the desk and he shook his cranial unit.
"I don't know. I think that his casing maybe defective, or it is just a scar I had never noticed before. Hopefully, it's nothing serious."
"Have you considered a bond?"
This comment received a very confused and disbelieving look from the mech. "A bond Optimus?" he repeated skeptically. The Prime nodded and slipped around his desk to sit down in the chair that he rarely even used. Through all they had been through, Ratchet had figured Optimus was more intelligent than this. A bond? Really? "All options considered, yes, a bond Ratchet."
The medic snorted in his familiar way and he rolled his optics. What could have gotten into that mech's processor about a bond? Of all things. "He does not bear the mark of a bonded, nor does he have that information logged into his personal biography..." he trailed off as Optimus calmly watched him. He seemed expectant of something; to just be waiting. Ratchet could see the patience in the younger warrior's optics and he noted the knowing look in his posture. It took the CMO a few nanoclicks, but once his older processor put two and two together, he was literally ready to walk from the room to find someone else to speak with.
"If you are implying that he has formed a bond with that human than you have a few parts loose in your CPU Optimus. The Stone had not yet been studied in-depth yet, yes, but to create a bond between two alien species similar to that of one of our own race? Unfathomable." he blew off the possibility quicker than the subject had come up. But the Prime seemed so sure of his suggestion, so calm as to Ratchet's reaction. As if he had known.
Had he suspicions beforehand of just this matter?
The AllSpark hadn't even had this ability, and yet some ancient device seemingly one-hundreth of a fraction of it's power could. However, the AllSpark had been studied more and the Stone of Primus had not yet been proven from legend until now. So it was the lack of information that was valuable to them. Not what was known. It was what was known that had allowed the Decepticons to steal the shard from Sam and the knowledge that had led them here to try and kidnap Fera. It was the lack of knowledge that was keeping them alive and it safe.
"I am merely stating plausibility Ratchet. Nothing is impossible anymore."
A small brush by his digit had Solas almost immediately pulling away. But once he looked down at the source, he saw it to be Fera, leaning against him for support.
He was so hyper as of late- so much so actually that anything that touched him was to be treated like a vexpa in a recharge berth. He flinched at the smallest noises and he would go in the defensive at the tiniest utter of his designation. Was that normal of a warrior? He didn't think so. All he viewed his jumpiness as was of frightened cowardice.
But even then, he found a way to continue to be who he was around Fera. He was more watchful over her now; more protective. At first, he had decided it was just his debt he felt he owed to her after she had, no matter how much she denied it, saved his life. Never would he be able to completely pay her back for that.
Never.
That realization had him both frustrated and annoyed, giving him his unusually irritated demeanor as of late.
Maybe...just maybe...could it be something more than just the Guardianship he felt over her? Was it really just the debt? Could she really be turning into someone more than just a charge? Friends are for those who deserve them, he snapped at himself. Friends need those able to support them, able to take what is offered, but provide more in return. "Something I lost the ability to do long ago." he sighed sadly to himself.
"What was that?" Fera wondered. Solas looked down at her, surprised she had heard him. "Nothing. I was talking to myself." he assured.
"Do you do that a lot?"
"Sometimes."
"I don't think it's weird."
"Thank you for your opinion."
The small human huffed and he shuttered his optics down at her. Why did she always feel the need to input her side of matters? It was an interesting trait, but he ever wondered if she felt one point-of-view was enough. Apparently not.
He waited for her to speak again, but she didn't for a few clicks. She seemed deep in thought, far beyond that of just the room they shared now. Why had he stayed behind? He wanted to talk with her about something, especially that of what Optimus had suggested. But then again, he didn't. What was the point of goodbye when you were to see the being again in only a short amount of time? Maybe this was needed because things may not be what one thinks and everything could change as quickly as they could be created. It was disturbing really- this idea of goodbye. Such a simple gesture, yet so full of meaning.
"Are you mad at me?" she suddenly asked, so softly that it was almost unheard. At this question, Solas' optic ridges drew together and he laid a confused expression on the small human female. Where in the name of Primus did that come from? "Mad at you?"
Fera nodded, keeping her eyes pointed away from him. She seemed far more interested in whatever was in her hands to be concerned with holding steady eye contact. It was perplexing to try and figure out this human- especially her. She seemed so able to make random and unexpected inquiries or points that it made him wonder often of just how far this Earthling saw into the very logic of what was around her. She saw things in different ways, seeming to experience them differently as well.
"I...well, I..." Fera trailed off and Solas leaned forward to get a better view of the human beside him. He found this oddly easier to do without the armoring he would wear before. "Spit it out." he urged, waiting as long as he found necessary for her to speak her mind. Sometimes...sometimes she was just...frustrating.
"I absolutely hate it when people are worried about me." she buried her face into her hands and Solas' faceplates softened. And he would be angry because? "You feel I am angry because you caused me such worry?" he asked, his voice gentler. Fera moved her hidden face up and down before pulling away her hands. "You're mad at me because I keep things from you. I hide things. And that makes you worry and everyone worry." her grievances washed over him harder than he expected, gaining almost internal power over his spark. He ignored the reactions of his core and he instead focused on solving the current problems.
So Fera saw him as one of strict discrimination. She thought what she did made him angry with her. In some ways, she was right, but at the same time, she was too far away from the actuality of things. "You feel as though I have shared everything with you? That I don't hold secrets that very well may inform you better of me?" she lifted her head and glanced up at him, "Because if you do, you are far duller than I had originally predicted."
He went on to create a rare and comforting grin for her, causing the female to completely drop her arms and narrow her eyes. There was the Fera he knew. "Jerk." she shot back hotly. Solas chuckled and supported himself by setting his arms on his kneebolts. From here, he was able to notice her rubbing the spot just above where her 'heart' would be. She had a bewildered, but focused expression on her features, as if she were confused over something. "Are you alright?" he wondered, the small human jerking at his voice.
Fera looked at him with wide eyes before removing both her hands and eyes. "Yes...yeah, I'm alright. My chest just feels funny. Ratchet checked me out though, so no need to worry." this last part was seen as a tease and Solas raised an optic ridge. "Oh really? And I shouldn't worry that you were having seizures right in front of me?" he gave a short blow of air from his vents and turned his faceplates away. That wriggling, screaming form in Bumblebee's servos had brought out a new side of Solas that he himself hadn't known. That concern he'd had for her took hold of him and cemented itself in him before he could try thinking of anything else. He could only imagine the very way she had felt while in that position, but what could he have done?
You could have been there, his CPU replied darkly. You could have supported her and kept your promise to protect her. Aiming his optics to the floor, he locked his servos before him. Protect her from what? Herself? this one-sided argument ended as quickly as it had begun, causing a new mood of ever-too-familiar discontent to settle over the warrior mech.
Fera didn't respond to him for an uncomfortable amount of time, which made him grow unsure of himself and where the conversation was going. She must of known they were going to be kept apart for some time, but how did she feel about it? Looking at her now, she seemed as calm as she could be. Or maybe that was the drugs.
"I heard everything." he spoke up randomly, keeping his optics away from her gaze. He felt her shift against him and the feeling of her eyes on him. "I heard everything you said to me while I was asleep. Every tease and every insult and even the apologies. My vocabulary is much wider thanks to you." his lip plates twitched into a grin and he looked down on his digits.
"Well you deserved them. Jerk." she retorted in mock irritation.
"I heard that one too."
"What, the one where I said you deserved it all or that you were a jerk?"
"A jerk. And some other, more colorful expressions."
"Good, at least you'll know now what you put me through."
Solas peered at her when she said this, his expression confused. "Put you through?" he repeated questioningly. Fera had her back against him, her eyes before her. "Yes, Solas. Every day I told myself it had been my fault that you had been shot, my fault that you fought that Decepticon, and my fault that you're in the position you are now. That 'Con has caused too many questions to come up, and yet every time I tell someone this, they just make me want to puke with all the 'comforting words' they prattle." she laid back her head against him and he sat straighter. All her fault?
"It's not your fault Fera, it never was. I am bound to follow my duties as Guardian, and when I couldn't protect you from them..." his tone grew angry before he could stop it, causing him to pause and slowly calm again before he went on. "I'm sorry. It's my fault, and I'm sorry." his servos locked and squeezed tightly over one another. To think that she felt the way she did was both perplexing and saddening. Had he not shown her enough to convince her to blame someone else for a change?
"Don't try hiding it, I know you blame me for what has happened to you."
"Why in Primus would I do that?"
"Because I'm human and you're trying to protect my 'fragility'."
"There is no fragility in you Fera. I'm sorry that I couldn't do what I'd vowed to."
"Shut up."
"I'm sorry I failed at protecting you and the shard and for my failures in gaining it back."
Silence.
Her sudden drop in the conversation had Solas concerned. He prodded the small presence in his spark for help, but it just ignored him. Maybe it thought he could figure it out himself? Why did it avoid him so often? "The shard is in enemy control and it is partially my fault because of this. I am an Autobot, therefore I am included in the blame-"
"Are you done?" Fera suddenly snapped, inturrupting him. Her vivid-blue eyes met his optics and they fought as anger and regret. Two sides who would never win over the other.
Shaking his cranial unit, Fera whipped her head back around. "If you apologize one more time, I swear I'll punch you. I've heard enough of the 'sorry's and 'it's ok's from the people and 'Bots on this God-forsaken base." she threatened. Sol didn't even shutter an optic at this. He understood her aggravation and the irritability in her stature. He would have made the same warning to whoever it was in his spot at that moment. He'd never wanted the condolences. But at the same time, the guilt inside him was building far beyond that of 'just let it be'.
"When that Decepticon that tried to take you from us is in my sights, I will take him out. But it is the fact that I failed to save you from him that I apologize again-" the loud and rattling pound on his protoform had both surprised him and frustrated him further. Why couldn't she let him finish and just accept things as they were?
Fera was now on her feet, waving the hand that had punched him and hissing hoarsely to herself. She hopped across the berth and doubled over the limb she cradled. "You really are an idiotic, primitive creature." he vented. If she wished to hit him, so be it. He deserved most of what she dished anyway. "Idiotic enough to tell you that I'm leaving in a few weeks for Washington? Or that I think you're the stupidest, most thoughtless friend of my life?" she demanded hotly, still holding the injured hand close.
Solas' optic ridges raised and he carefully took note of the information given to him. A few weeks? And what was that word she used to describe him? Friend? "Idiotic enough to believe that they won't come for you, that they won't kill whomever gets in their way, and idiotic enough to blow off some form of serious problem in your bodily function."
"I'm fine."
"And are you some form of medic to prove that?"
"I don't need them to tell me I'm alright. I know my own body."
"It's thoughtless of you to misjudge yourself like that."
"Misjudge? You're saying I'm weak and unable to know when I need to ask for help or not?"
Sighing, Solas couldn't help but bring up that familiar memory of when an argument like this had come up between them. One had left angry, and that was no way to separate for who-knows-how-long. "I'm merely saying you're human."
"Humans meet challenges and face them with our chins high." her grumbled remark was less that of the tone she had used before, but it didn't seem like her anger had ebbed. "What if something's wrong with you? Seriously wrong?" he insisted, pressing the matter. Fera groaned and turned her back to him. "It's not like you need to worry about me anyway." she paused, "Remember, you didn't want to do this, so don't and save yourself the trouble. Worry about your own life for a change."
Suddenly, everything seemed very, very still. Her words hung in his audio receptors and echoed through his CPU. Their meaning was far beyond that of what was explicitly stated, yet it was only base instinct that told him this. It wasn't something he'd wished to hear, not for an extremely long time. She didn't want him to worry about her. But there was more.
"Are you expelling me as Guardian?" he inquired seriously. The human flinched in such a small way that it would have gone unnoticed by her own kind. But Solas had seen and he'd understood that everything wasn't as it was meant to be. Things were falling downhill faster than he could fix them. And just when he thought he would be able to build on sending her off with a suitable farewell, she planned to retire him before his duty was over. But why?
"Maybe I am." she agreed with a shaky voice. "I can't do it anymore. I can't keep worrying and waiting and hoping that you won't get killed. I just can't have your bounty over my head any longer. Your fate is something I don't want control over." every passing word, her volume dropped, "And I don't want to kill you for real." the pain was just washing off of her and touching a circuit in Sol that he never had noticed before. This wasn't what was needed to be said. Failure wasn't an option. It hadn't been the first time and it wouldn't be until the end truly came.
His servo laid against the berth and he leaned over her, his shadow blanketing her body. "That is the risk of a Guardian. You understand now that what I do is a risk of both my life and my comrades'. I'm not alone in this and even as I wish to believe it not true, they too feel as though they are your Guardians. The Deceptions want you for reasons I won't say. But they wanted the shard as well."
"I don't care about the shard!" she abruptly yelled, still holding her face away from his. Solas fell deathly quiet, not daring to speak a word. "I want to have a normal life with normal friends and a normal family where my dad is still alive. I want to not be hunted down by giant alien creatures and to not have them trying to kill every one of you. I want this thing in my mind and chest to go away so I can be normal again. And I just want to go home."
Obviously, this discussion was over. There was no comforting her. There was nothing to be said that would make anything better. It was plain to see that he didn't understand what she went through and she didn't wish to explain it. Hopefully, what had been broken would be mended with the time about to surpass them, but if it didn't, a Guardian's duty may very well be broken.
With nothing to say and blank in the processor, Solas stood and glanced once more down at his charge. Or what had been. She was crying silently to herself, her arms crossed tightly over her chest and her face flushed in an odd hue. She seemed ashamed, but of what, he was unsure. Instead of trying to find out, he simply turned away and walked out of the room, the essence in his spark growing weaker and weaker against his attempts at contact. Soon, he would know. And soon, things would change.
Well that answers that question...
I love our two little stubborn friends
They're so cooperative -_-
Oh, and by the way:
I'm not going to be posting for a while because I'm going back to school, so it maybe about a week or so before you see anything up :) Thanks for reading!