So not much happens in this chapter-

A little of this, a little of that...

But

I hope you enjoy anyway! :)

Of The Spark And Heart

Part 1

Chapter 30

"Tell me something I don't know, you vexatious, half-bit sparkling."

"Well isn't someone in an ornery mood today?"

The black and silver flier mech shot an irritated glare at the overly energetic fembot by his side. She bent over, peering at his work over his shoulderbolt, her arms held behind her. Her deep purple and yellow armor glowed under the lights above her and her unusually shapely chassis stuck out as she strained her neck over his larger shape. She obviously wanted something, as she often did when she acted this way, for she had been on his aft all that kalon as if he was carrying a load of her favorite high-grade energon. Her pestering and quite agitating state of bother wasn't really such a problem at first, but now, it was blatantly annoying.

At the moment, he was working on trying yet again to find the Autobot's main area of operations. Like the times before, he failed, but with Soundwave in guarding duty almost all that groon and his small cassettes doing mundane tasks around the base, he was the only high-ranking analyst on call. It was never an issue to him, until a certain obnoxious fembot had found him.

"You're suggestions never cease to completely arrest my consideration. If only for one minuscule of nearly instrumental valuable material from you, I would feel far less provoked in your presence." he roughly scrubbed his digits across his faceplates and massaged his aching foreplate before holding his optics shut. "Such an unsocial thing to say, Bey." she scolded teasingly, bringing herself closer to run her servos over his shoulderbolts. For a split nanoclick, he almost let himself relax in her tender grip. But then his processor kicked in and reminded him of the task he'd been placed with.

Not willing to give into the playful purple fembot's woes, the mech sat straighter and returned to his work, trying to ignore her completely. "Don't call me that." he almost growled. The embarrassing nickname had developed not long after this near symbiote had begun following him around, and it aggravated him to no end from the first time he'd heard it. A small clucking sound came from the fembot and the focused mech heard her coming closer to him before two experienced servos traveled up his spinal support and over his tense neck. For a sparkbeat, his digits faltered and he paused. The stressed wiring beneath his plates were unwinding at her firm presses, uncoiling at the gentle circles she worked into the tied circuits. His CPU was falling prey to this fembot, yet even when his spark sputtered at the feel of her feather-light stroke, he curled his digits in an act of defiance.

"Now, now, don't be like that." the voice was soft and soothing, ghosting by his audio receptor in a faint brush of sound, "You know that you love it when I say your name like that." an accomplished chuckle came from the form behind the mech as his servos fell open again and he felt himself leaning into her touch. "Bey." she whispered, barely lifting her vocal tone past a murmur.

Basically anything concerning that other than the fembot began to slowly fall apart with his resolve when she spoke that name. That all-so-much hated name. His CPU became foggy and his spark beat quicker. The screen before him holding the current suspected location of the Autobot base was almost forgotten. He couldn't be distracted right now...he should be...what was he doing again? Oh yes, finding the enemy's base. Giving a heaving grunt, the silver flier sat up straight again and went back to his work despite the disappointed noise the one behind him made. "Bey." she whined, reaching up to close their distance.

The mech rolled his optics and twisted around, still trying to push away the remaining blur of his processor. Right now, he couldn't be focusing on...specific things- and even more so now that the intended target of Mistress Arachnid had been secured. His blood-red optics fixed firmly on the fembot's scarlet-orange ones. "My designation is Bekos, and I would appreciate it if you would cooperate in employing that proper title." their gazes met and the fembot stuck out her bottom lip plate in an act of pouting. Pouting. By a Decepticon warrior. "But Bey sounds so much cuter on you. Just let it sit a while, ok? Maybe you'd like it more if you weren't so stubborn." she stuck her glossa out at him and Bekos crack a smirk at the motion.

He completely turned in his chair and kept an elbowjoint on the control panel behind him, watching the fembot with a slightly lightened expression than before. "I hardly believe Bey is a respectable choice of reference for a mech such in my position and rank." he narrowed his optics at her and she smiled back innocently. "Why such the gloom? All I was doing was poking fun at you." she came closer and caused Bekos to back off marginally. "Lately, I do not intend for fun when there is tasks to accomplish."

"You think too much."

"And you bother me too much."

"Then I guess now isn't the time to tell you that I think it's really adorable when you look at me like that."

Bekos vented a sigh and he let his helm tip back. Exasperation was welling in his frame again and the feel of the keys against his arm was silently urging him back to the work at hand. "Some things are best left for solitude. My judgment is that because of my working, this would be one of those times." he said, peering back down at the fembot in stoic calmness. He was going to hold his patience for as long as possible- even if this 'Con was a pain in his aft. She stood taller and placed her servos on her hipbolts. "You're always working."

"Precisely."

"Keep acting like that, and you won't have any time for me."

"And that is an issue because...?"

"Because..."

The fembot trailed off and abruptly walked closer, placing her servos on his shoulderbolts before he could react. She then lifted one leg and settled herself on his lap, straddling him with her servos around the back of his neck. Bekos jerked and his optics widened, the two pieces on his helm swiveling in place and clicking to a stop before his vents seized. The fembot had an accomplished expression on her faceplates and a tight hold of his lower half. She wasn't heavy by any means, but being so close to her was making it that much harder to process anything clearly. Unsure of what to do and flustered beyond his usual sanity, Bekos lifted his servos and held them away from her as his lip plates fell open in shock. "you will be missing this." she finished finally, holding his optics with the intensity of her own.

Bekos felt the heat rising under his plating and he quickly looked up and around him. For the time being, they were alone, with no living being in sight. Which, by his standards, would have been helpful when trying to displace the one on top of him. Unable to find even a security camera, Bekos returned to the creature sitting comfortably around his legs and the way her seductive smile sent a shiver down his spinal support. Why? Why him? "Thunderblast, this is inappropriate." he hissed, trying to sound as stern as possible. However, when the words came, they were shaky and uneven.

Thunderblast giggled and she removed one of her servos to slide over the edge of his mandible and cup his cheekplate. "Mechs: such anxious creatures." she stated, shaking her cranial unit slightly. "You are here, in the presence of a willing fembot, and yet you still refuse me? You're resilience is commendable... So maybe that's why I find you so...interesting." she came closer and almost touched her lip plates to his. But she hovered just close enough for him to feel their chassis pressed together and the warmer tinge to her armor. Bekos swallowed and slowly lowered his servos to sit on Thunderblast's sides, finally realizing that he had no where else to put them. His body seemed unwilling to move and so his cranial unit stayed just before hers in an almost pitiful series of silent pleas.

Suddenly, one thought crossed his CPU and he frowned deeply, pulling himself away before Thunderblast could make another move. She removed her servo from his mandible and instead placed it on his chassis. "Really, Bekos? I'm serious now, I don't want to play anymore." she insisted, a rare and meaningful edge to her voice. But away he stayed, keeping his optics low and his helm reared back. "No Thunderblast. You are someone whom has been with so many before. It...disturbs me."

The fembot stiffened against him and Bekos remained vigilant on keeping his gaze away from hers. It seemed he could process better without seeing her optics trained on his own- so full of lustful promise and dark wisdom. "Disturbs you? Bekos, I had a lengthy time of wishing to climb the ladder of hierarchy in our faction. I bedded with mechs I loath bringing to thought now," at this, Bekos lifted his servos away and prepared to leave. How he had even considered what his files produced now confounded him. She had been with too many; had lived a life considered that of a lotta to most Cybertronians.

But just as he began to move, Thunderblast grabbed his servos and brought them back towards her. This time, she wrapped him securely around her spinal support. Bekos peered down on her now and saw the pain and sudden truth in her features. When she was truly serious and beyond her usual teasing nature, she was actually attractive. "but I never felt for them. It was always touch and run for me; always a step for the next one to fall into my servos. But you..." she paused and Bekos settled back into his seat. The pointed shape of her helm gleamed silver as she bowed her faceplates for a moment and then caught his optics again.

So many had fallen before her at her peds, just offering themselves to her as her willful and loyal plaything. Yet time and time again, she broke the sparks of the pursuers and moved on to the next best in power for the Decepticon social ranking. Her large wings sagged a little when he glanced back at her and he could sense the odd tug he felt in his spark at seeing her tortured expression. Was this sympathy? Or pity? The small yellow pendant at the crest of her helm flashed once with the passing light and gleamed along with her carefully polished plates. So many before...she could have anyone; anyone she pleased. However, here she was, tangled around him like she actually gave a two-bit care for him. "You're different." she shuttered her optics once and gained a content grin.

Bekos grunted and turned his faceplates away again, set on trying to find anything that could take his CPU off the fembot searching so deeply in his faceplates. "You don't treat me like the others do and you never raise your voice at me." she went on, meshing her frame even closer to his. Bekos straightened and his vents held in the air he took. His optics widened and his spark pulsed in more hurried beats. When he caught sight of her from the corner of his vision, he saw her leaning against him, her cranial unit set against his chassis. Confused and partially interested, Bekos returned his helm forward and he tilted it down at the fembot. "You irritated me to no end." he noted, attempting at a mostly monotone voice. He failed.

Thunderflare's vents sent warm caresses of air over his armoring and his wires buzzed with the feel. It was...nice. "As you've said." she retorted with a quiet laugh, "But here I am," she lifted her cranial unit and gazed up at him with a genuine smile, "enjoying your company."

"May you enjoy my company some other time perhaps? I am trying to work-" Bekos cut off suddenly when Thunderflare lifted herself up and pushed their lip plates together.

The initial surprise to this action lingered in Bekos as she calmly pressed them closer and provided enough for the both of them. His awkward reaction to Thunderblast's abrupt kiss. He couldn't process quick enough and organize his cluttered thoughts before she pulled away. She merely watched him with drowsy optics and a spark-stopping grin. They were so much softer than he would have thought...and warmer too. She looked pleased and there was an odd haze he saw over her usually mischievous optics.

"Work time is over. I'm done waiting for you to cooperate."

Through the darkness of the halls and on past the rooms leading to the stairway before the energon converter and the heavily guarded AllSpark shard, there laid a space built into the side of the hall. It was more a multipurpose room than anything truly important, giving none a reason to pause and consider it. For now however, it would be an interrogation room, holding inside of it one of the most sought after humans involved with the Autobot cause. The actual area inside was a pretty comfortable size seeing as plenty of mechs or fembots could fit inside and still have extra for more.

The air surrounding the room inside and spilling out was so heavy with tension that it felt unstable to the point of being explosive. The dim lights above the hall sent a fuzzy glow across the features of the plated walls and into every crevice or corner of each exposed surface. Two soldiers, both mechs and both painted a black and dark purple, stood stock-still at the entrance. Their guns drawn and their stances strict, they stood with the faded order to not move a millimeter from their post. Sounds from inside carried like a breeze through the door and dug deep into the audio receptors of both 'Cons.

Not long before the muffled screams had begun, Arachnid had entered along with her disturbingly calm group of scientist and high-ranking officials, including a newer mech named Platon. The methods they must have been using on that human sent a chill down both their spinal supports, and every so often, they would look at each other with thankful gazes. "I'm glad I'm not that sorry son of a glitch." the one on the right commented. Another piercing wail rocked the calm still and the frame of the one on the left rattled. He felt his CPU run ramped with all the possible ways they could be torturing that human and then he imagined himself in the same position. It couldn't possibly be pleasant.

"What do you think they're doing to her?" the left soldier questioned.

His right peer shuffled on his peds and winced with the sound of the strangled shriek, "Who cares? What I wanna know is why we even bothered to retrieve the flesh-bag in the first place."

"You did so,"

The new voice was deep and loud enough to cover most of the fading echos of the human's suffering. Both the soldiers looked to the source and straightened immediately. As protocol and training demanded, a soldier class mech or fembot was to stand at attention to any higher-ranking official. Which, was pretty much everyone on the base. But this warrior was by no means one you wanted to cross on any normal kalon. His steps were slow and his stance was tall, his navy-blue paint nearly hiding him in the gloom if not for the bright spots of orange in his detailing. The devices on his shoulderbolts hummed softly, emitting a sound every 'Con knew all too well. It caused a slight feel of uneasiness to overcome the two guards.

Dirge stopped before the two and settled a hard gaze on them both. "because Mistress Arachnid wished for it. Whatever she desires, it is our duty to make certain it transpires, correct?" Dirge's optics narrowed and both the soldiers shrunk from his look. Quickly, they nodded and Dirge released a short grunt before his lip plates pulled into a mocking smirk. "Make certain you don't forget that." Dirge shouldered past the mechs and entered the room. Shortly after, the door closed, but not quick enough to stop the smell of copper from wafting through and a low, soft moan to escape. They closed and the mech on the left made a note of the substance being spilled inside: the human life substance called blood.

"That mech's a real half-byte aft." the left's peer grumbled as they settled back into their regular stance. The left guard glanced at the door again and shuttered his optics, holding back the cold claws he felt ripping at his spark.

Long ago now, her throat had dried and her limbs had grown completely senseless. No external light reached her, while a certain foreboding flood of memories threatened to escape the barrier she had placed up to spare her some rest. When was the last time she had slept? Days? It was definitely back at Amoret. Shouldn't she be in Washington by now? The ride in Bee's cabin had become disturbingly still and she rolled her shoulders to shift around and get a feel around her. She couldn't complete even that small task.

Confused and languid in both her mind and movements, Fera softly groaned and rolled her head from one should to the other in an attempt to get more comfortable. "Bumblebee..." she murmured drowsily, taking in a deep breath and releasing it before she burrowed her eyebrows and squeezed her eyes.

There was a crushing weight on her lower half and horrible pain in her shoulders, arms, and hands. Something deep within her chest was constricting her ability to take in air properly and a crippling series of dread came from both her body and her mind, forcing her into an awakening she quickly dodged by cowering into the further depths of her unconsciousness. Here, she was able to peacefully float in a numb ball of bewilderment and anxiety. Where she was or why she was there was beyond her, and the only thing she did know was that she no longer was with her yellow Guardian.

Here, she could relax and regain herself. It was definitely better than what could be out there, out in the world of light. While she was curled up here, in the corner of her very mind, she could feel nothing and so, she liked it. She liked the none-feeling and the security in the darkness. In the black, she had no pain and no fear. She could be here forever and not even know where she had been before, or even who. While she was in this new side of her mind, she could comfortably say that she didn't mind returning. There was a small part of her that just wanted to stay here.

Through these months -days, or weeks even, she couldn't actually tell- she had grown used to the idea that pain would accompany her in this time of her life. And in the control of the enemy, her mind had fully settled on that disconcerting fact. Could she really believe anything different with her becoming involved in an alien war? It was to be expected. But now...now she had a release from that. She was able to fold back into herself and act like a child while she ran away from what awaited her. Grim futures and always-unhappy faces met her everywhere she went, yet she fought on. For now, she wished to gain a break in her struggles and just...float.

A tense knot sit in each of her joints while a harsh set of waves batted at her muscles and egged on her uncomfortable state. A certain soreness had overtaken her limbs, with the worst being down by her leg and her upper arms. Harsh aches pounded in her head and entangled any memories or small understanding she may have had. Further and further, she pulled into herself and dived away from the world just outside the clutches of her mind.

It was such a tempting option to give into when the dark fingers of her shadowy conscious clawed at her, whispering and urging her to relent. She wanted to submit so badly; to pull back into the comforting clutches of the black and admit that she was a cowardly, weak, and sniveling fool. A fool for thinking she would last within this group of amazing 'Bots and a fool for fighting a personal battle that was still yet to be decided. Was this where it ended? Could she stay here, in this warm dark, and whittle away with the years? That would be nice. Really nice. She would die off young and take away one more worry from the 'Bots' growing list. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if her position on that list got one of them killed. One life for an entire race's? It seemed like a pretty fair deal.

And yet, she hesitated to completely step into the waiting dark. What all would she leave behind? What difference would she have made in her time there? There couldn't possibly be anything significant behind her. She hadn't actually accomplished anything truly inspiring. The dark bled into her pale skin, wrapping itself around her arms and body like a child clinging to their mother. Voices lost to her in meaning quickly passed by her ear and stayed there before the black seeped down into her core. Hope was becoming encircled in the black, and the circulating abyss that was the black was so difficult to fight against. Why was she fighting? It was only offering her comfort and a place to hide from her troubles.

Before, she had been concerned. She felt like she had a purpose left and a place to fill, even if she didn't know what it was. People and beings pressed her on, though she wished to break down and remove her masks so she could live a semi-normal existence. Semi-normal, without a father. But that was her normal. She had come to respect that things were how they were. Yet with the events as of late, she was seriously doubting her position in this life. She was tired of coming into where she didn't belong, and she was sick of involving herself in places where she would only cause more harm than good.

Turning back to the dark, Fera let herself relax into the gripping stems that slowly overtook her limbs one by one. It really had no specific feel to it, just dull brushes and wisps that breathed over her skin and warmed it as it coursed through her. But at the same time, it was almost damp and gel-like. As difficult as it was to explain, it was almost like a clammy, slick, and heavy blanket of melting rubber or putty. Even then, it was...pleasant. Better than what she had felt before, and certainly was to later on. It wasn't the best experience to look forward to.

To her, it was a time for her to pull back and recollect the fragments of her shattered mind. As of late, she was lost. The black was offering her a place of peace.

Turning back to the black, Fera slowly gazed down her arms and felt a drowsy presence entering her system and coursing through her veins. She watched with less care than she'd ever experienced before as the tentacles of the black ate the inches away from her arm and reached for her leg and shoulder. For no reason, she stayed. She stayed for the beauty in the lack of need; of responsibility. Here was her chance of escape.

Something was here.

Something was here, in the dark, with her.

It was fighting against the dark, pushing back on it and burrowing through the constricting barrier. The effort it showed made her pause and consider it. The force behind it bulged the black and sent a ripple across the sleek surface. The black was inside of her now, and she hadn't realized the truth of that fact until that moment. Why hadn't she noticed before? Was she really so caught up in the black that she hadn't minded what it did to her?

Fera poked at the being that was trying so hard to escape from where she had just given into. The confusion didn't last long before whatever was being held back by the black finally broke free in a bursting abruptness. Fera became startled from the sudden burst and even more so when an incredible light flushed every inch of her vision. A screaming bolt of pure energy snapped over her skin and fizzled the air surrounding her. The black squirmed and jerked before yanking off of her skin and wrenching itself from her body with an almost painful lurch.

Shocked, Fera was left breathless and nauseous, but with a clearer head than she'd felt since before she was recaptured by the 'Con. The light faded from the entirety of her vision and pulled into a more controlled size. It based itself in her center and hovered as a defiant glow in her new world of dim. Before she had seen this new luminosity, she felt the dark was there to support her need for a break in her life. Now, with her renewed understanding, she saw that it was only weighing her mind and forcing the dullness inside of her.

For the first time, she was able to pull away from the dark and enclose herself around the amazing bulb of light in her heart. It was a familiar feeling, and she fought to remember just what it was. Her brain wracked for answers when nothing immediately came up. If this thing- this new light was somehow recognizable, then why didn't she know? She noticed the strong surges coming from it and the echoes of reassuring warmth. There was a purpose for it being here, and there was a reason that it had to of came to her. There must be an explanation...

The dark never made her think like this. It didn't confuse her or will her into doing anything she didn't want to do. This new light in her grasp was doing just what the darkness wasn't.

Fera found herself drifting away from the light and back to the dark- a place where she knew she could be comfortable and she knew she wouldn't have to fight anymore. However the light followed her, grabbed her even, and made her turn back. It didn't allow her to touch the dark and it put up its own barriers around her. Frustrated and tired of the conflicting emotions inside of her, Fera turned on the light and drew away. Again and again, it held her close and suddenly added its own whispers to slip over the edge of her hearing.

It wasn't long before she was physically worming her body from the light and stretching out her hand towards the dark. There, she was safe and hadn't a care in the world. Here, with the light, she felt obligated to do things she didn't even remember. But then there was something else.

Fera ceased her struggling for a few seconds and listened to the light. She listened to it in hopes that maybe she could understand it. It obviously wanted something, so maybe giving it what it wanted would make it go away. Did it want to take her from the dark?

A new-found experience washed over her as she begun falling into the entrancing calls of the light. Its whispers grew louder and its being gained a firmer anchor on her. The words it sent over her spoke to her not in lingual form, but in emotional. There was an edge to these spoken, yet non-spoken, words that the light fed to her. The feeling was expressed in thousands upon thousands of ways, with most hitting her with more vitality than she realized possible. The presence was...strong, definitely, in many ways. Yet it brushed her mind and soul with a touch that spoke of a deeper tenderness that only a kinder life could handle.

Without warning, Fera latched onto this presence and murmured one word over and over. She knew not where she recognized this thing from, or how, but somehow, she knew it was important. Very, impossibly, important.

When she offered herself back to the light, its own strains to regain her stopped and it was able to easily pull her back from the dark. Nothing was what she felt at first, and then a crushing weight of pain and sorrow and guilt and fright. That was the worst of them all: fright. She was more scared than she ever had been in her entire life. But she'd never felt a stronger challenge welling in her heart either. She would fight on. But not alone.

She had Hope.

"The lamb I did see, the lamb, the lamb;

Where has the lamb gone? Over the moon, over the moon;

Can I join you? Little lamb, little lamb;

'Yes you can, yes you can';

And we played and we played;

Until the sun came and ruined our fun..."

She woke murmuring this song. Just before, she had seen nothing but the heavy, cold emptiness and then a soft pink hue. The pure intensity under her skin at that moment was so agonizing that actual tears collected at the corners of her eyes. There really was no true beginning to where the pain was coming from, just that it was more focused in some areas than others. She couldn't feel her hands, and her feet were asleep. The crusted seal she felt across her eyelids cracked and splintered to allow a dusky spotlight to filter down on her.

Some particles of dust floated freely around her, vaulting and dancing through the air as though they were tiny fireflies. A significant haze covered her visibility and deformed it so it was but a blotchy sheen of what it once was. The milky curtain of light bore down on her mercilessly and obscured the past rest of the surrounding area. She felt like she was levitating in the air, with her arms unwilling to move and her legs treading nothing but free space.

Opening her eyes wider, she was able to blink a few times and clear that discouraging mask before allowing herself to take in what lay around her. The muscles in her arms were screaming and when she looked down, and her stomach dropped with the height she saw. Surprised into a far more awake mindset, Fera sucked in a sharp breath and her eyes widened. Quickly, her head snapped to both of her immobile limbs and found them held above her in a tight strand of chains. The shackles on her wrists bit deep into her skin and she found her fingers to be a slightly darker shade than what she would figure normal.

Confused and holding a rising anxiety, Fera yanked her shoulders against her restrains to test their grip. The only response she got from her attempts were the small, bell-like clink of the chains swaying from side to side. That and a stinging feel of pins and needles each limb.

Fera closed her eyes and continued her hurried breathing while the blood roared in her ears. She could almost hear each beat of her pounding heart. So she was in mid-air. So what? It wasn't like she was falling from it so-say...or that she was hitting the unforgiving and distant floor...or that she was screaming before feeling the sharp crack of her bones and the pop of her skull against the ground...

"What was that metric composition you were correlating human?"

The unfamiliar tone of voice snapped Fera back to reality and her eyes shot opened once again. Pinpointing the direction of the question, Fera surveyed the general area and even squinted her eyes before anything came into view. She was in a large room, all metal, with bolted plates strewn together in a collected array just as those in the 'Bots' side of the base back in Amoret had been. There wasn't anything much to look at except the protruding boxes from the wall and the door to her front right.

A figure, shadowed in black, caught her eye, and she narrowed her lids further to see better. They were seemingly lounging against the wall, their movements still. Two blood-red eyes looked back at her with an utter calmness that sent a chill down her spine.

"I don't understand." she retorted coldly, returning her eyes to normal though it made it harder to see the one she was speaking to.

The black form shifted and Fera felt her heart beat faster when they moved towards the light. "The song." he -because she was definitely sure this new being was male- said firmly, stepping from the clutches of the dark to come into view. "What was it?"

His voice was steady, but young, as if he were a child that'd been forced to grow up too quickly. However, his body said differently- with an enormous build that outmatched Solas' and barely sat beneath Optimus'. His shoulders were squared and his head was fit with a boxy helmet that held two decretive protrusions on the sides. His paint was a distinctive brown and green, almost in a camo-like fashion. The wideness of his face was odd, but the curve of his chin made it fit in a large, hulking body sort of way. The objects on the sides of his helmet looked like the small things attached to Bumblebee's own, but they were longer and there was an odd sort of wire attached to both that stood up straight behind them. All in all, this was one very big, very intimidating Decepticon.

"It's something from my childhood." she said simply, trying to hide her nerves. The mech came into the light completely and stood straighter, revealing his true height. Why this 'Con even showed remote interest in her, she was unsure. Suspicious, Fera watched every move the Cybertronian made carefully. "Why?" the 'Con blinked his crimson eyes and studied her, causing an uncertain tinge to overcome her fiery spirit.

"I was unable to locate it in my files. It is unlike what I would hear on my planet."

"Like you'd care if you knew anyway."

This abrupt spat of her temper gained an nearly unaffected reaction from the 'Con. He didn't even seem the least bit surprised by her change in tone. How long had this mech been here? Was he just watching her while she hung in the air like an unconscious marionette? The thought that he would be standing aside as she fought to return to reality disturbed her. Couldn't he have the least bit of decency and try to wake her up? If her abduction was anything to go by and she was useful to any of them, he couldn't be allowed to let her die... Right?

"It interested me. You were unconscious, yet able to emit sound requiring activity from your central nervous system. Where you feigning?" he asked, leaning in to maybe see her better. Fera reared her head back and she knitted her eyebrows. "Feigning? How could I seriously fake being unconscious?" she demanded skeptically. He was supposedly some super intelligent life form and he chose to ask her that? Besides, if she did possess the ability to talk to someone while she was asleep, she wouldn't tell him. He may go to his peers and they would...figure out how to use that against the 'Bots somehow.

Thinking of them had Fera's heart dropping. She didn't know where the Decepticons had taken her, or how her friends were supposed to find her- as if she wanted them to anyway. The risks of breaking into some place like this, rescuing her, and then getting out alive were too high. She would rather stay here and take whatever the 'Cons wanted to use on her than sacrifice the safety of the Autobots. They were the only hope against the Decepticons as far as she knew.

"I have arrived on this planet but mere kalons ago. Your kind is unique and I have not yet assessed your abilities." the mech stood up again and crossed his arms. "Well welcome to Earth: where we don't take too kindly to kidnapping our peers and giant killer aliens." so far, Fera could tell this 'Con wasn't one like who she'd been abducted by. For some reason, she felt he was almost...curious. Although he wasn't immediately showing any forms of aggression towards her, she was still cautious about him. He was a 'Con after all.

But hadn't she'd always been told not to judge a book by its cover?

"Are all of your kind filled with such hostility? You remind me of my comrades."

Let the judging commence.

"Excuse me?" Fera's eyebrows arched and she regained the irritation she'd temporarily lost. A flash of offense perked in her heart and that feeling grew when Hope added in its own emotions. "I am nothing like you or your psychotic, pompous, murdering, piles of copper and wires." she seethed. The anger she put behind her voice actually made the Decepticon's own eyebrows raise. To even suggest something so ridiculous to her had her figuring the mech was mentally insane. She was their freaking prisoner for goodness sake! Why would he even mention something as senseless as that? He opened his mouth to say something in return.

"Actually Fera Lennox, he is just in claiming your similarity to our faction." this strange, sadistic voice drew both pair of eyes from each other towards the new entry to their conversation. Over by the door, standing in the open entrance, was a tall fembot. She was masked in shadows and the only things that betrayed her being was the glow of her unusually vivid eyes and the yellow of her knees. A grayish light bled in from the hallway, outlining her form. Fera blinked as the fembot moved away from the door and allowed it to shut behind her, covering her in the thick black again. "Titanios, you are relieved of post. Leave." the command of the fembot hung in the air for only a few seconds as Titanios looked back at Fera before he obeyed and exited the room without a word.

Even when the mech left however, the fembot remained hugged by the dim. The only feature Fera could make out now was her eyes- the ones that seemingly floated through the air as the 'Con kept them trained viciously on her prey. Fera swallowed the rising anxiety she felt and she lifted her chin, refusing to show her fright. Those eyes slowly circled around her without blinking a single time. When they disappeared behind Fera, she dropped her hard mask and squeezed her eyes shut. But when they came back around, she was already regaining her composure.

The deep thuds of the 'Con's steps stopped just beside Fera and she bore her eyes back into that of the fembot's. "That's right, you know who I am child. At least, I know you realize what I am." she hissed, pausing for only a heartbeat before coming around to stand before Fera. "You're a Decepticon. Fembot. And I'm guessing you're some form of officer or higher rank from the way you ordered around that mech." she summed. A fuzzy wave overcame her without warning and Fera closed her eyes, giving her head a shake so to clear it. She felt her face was swollen, with a piercing sting on her lip and a sharp ache in her scalp.

The eyes stopped moving and the fembot blinked. "Basic knowledge, but it is impressive that you are aware enough to make observations so soon after your collapse."

"No thanks to your baboon of a henchman."

"A temporary setback. I ordered your retrieval alive, not the pristine condition of your health. Your injuries can be tended to later." the fembot stated nonchalantly. Fera winced at this and tried lifting her ankle, only to have it erupt in pain. She softly gasped and clenched her teeth before dropping the limb again. Definitely broken. "What do you want with me?" her voice had weakened and her breathing pattern had picked up. Opening her eyes, Fera found the face of the Decepticon again just as the fembot began to lean forward.

A river of shadows split across her face to reveal the gleaming plates of the 'Con's profile. Her narrow cheeks came to a point by her chin while her eyes curved into two sly, devious points. Her helmet was somehow regal but demonic at the same time, with twin triangles pointing downward from her ruby gaze. A few details of yellow curved up with the 'horns' of her head and bounced off the rays of the light above them. Seeing the completeness of her features, Fera thought she looked like the personified version of a snake.

"What do I want from you?" she repeated, flashing strange 'fangs' behind her darkly tinted lips. "To understand. It is in a scientist's programming to be curious, and a leader's to gain both knowledge and power. They go hand in hand." the 'Con lifted her hands into view and cupped the space beneath Fera's feet. The teen gulped whatever saliva she had and looked down nervously at the clawed lengths of fingers. "A simple pet of the Autobot cause would mean nothing to myself I imagine you are assuming." Fera faced up at this, "However, recent...events have acquired my attention and spiked my interests."

Fera tensed under the intense view of the fembot's eyes and her mind raced with the endless possibilities that the 'Con's words could mean. Interests, often more than not, meant a lot of pain and a lot of destruction. Many times over, she had wondered what it was that Decepticons had done to gain their reputations. She head stories upon stories, both opinion and fact. But, she had never had the chance to experience them for herself. Now was her lucky day, she guessed. "Interests." she echoed, "How fun."

The fembot narrowed her eyes and raised one hand to grab Fera's chin. Quickly and cruelly, the teen's head was pinched and turned from side to side. Fera felt a pulse of pain every time her body moved in the slightest and she forced herself to watch the fembot whenever she could. "Your kind is a slight species, isn't it? Yet from what I have experienced, I find your resolve is strong. However, for yours and your comrades' sakes, I pray it best that you cooperate to the best of your abilities." she suggested grimly.

Anger washed through Fera and she let the powerful presence of Hope grow her irritation into pure defiance. "Bite me." she snapped, "They're big aliens now, they can handle themselves. They have for hundreds of years before they met me, and I'm pretty sure they can again." Fera yanked her head away and she narrowed her eyes as the 'Con fixed her with a harsh glare. The fingers that had held Fera's chin slowly lifted and grabbed the chain attached to Fera's right arm. The fembot then abruptly brought it closer and Fera cried out at the shock that coursed through her arm and over her upper back and shoulders.

"Do not test me." she hissed when Fera's body nearly touched her face. Fera swung a few times before coming still again, one eye closed as the wound on her scalp broke open and produced a fresh barrage of blood. The red eyes of the Decepticon were mere slits as they pierced into Fera's vulnerable form and caused an uncomfortable teen to glance away for a few seconds. She'd never been so...close to one of them before. The closest she'd came to this was when Solas had fallen in the barn.

Solas.

"You will regret any wisp of disrespect in the truest of form whether it be one of your pathetic stares or a comment of foolish ignorance meant for a signal of open disregard towards me. Keep your trifling babble halt at your lips, for if you cross my patience, you will be surrendered to our more...curious branch of officials." the threat rolled venomously off her tongue and struck Fera's usual irritation down a notch. What was that supposed to mean? Was this 'Con going to cut her open and experiment on her? A charge of anxiety overcame Fera and she stared off nervously to a wall opposite of this fembot's disapproving look.

Even though Fera had been hanging within a breath's length from the fembot's face, she wasn't pulled away or left to the pain of her pounding wounds and raw wrists. Instead, the Decepticon kept her by her one arm for at least another minute before she moved.

Fera was thrown away more than left to swing back. Her body flew for a few feet before hitting the limit of the chains and snapping her back to sway forward and back in a sick version of a playground swing. A bubbling shriek built in Fera's throat, but she only released a low groan from behind her clenched teeth. Her arms felt like they were slowly being torn from her body and her skin and ankle roared in silent wails. Hope was there of course to try alleviating her pain, but it could only put up a mild block to help numb the worst of it.

When the nauseating movement stopped, Fera sucked in a few shaky takes of air and she tried to shift as little as possible. No matter what- no matter the amount of pain she went through; the fright she felt; the drowning sense of defeat threatening to crush her; she would rise. She wouldn't fall, she would rise. She refused to quit; refused to give into an enemy that she could -no matter how small the chance- have some form of power over. The 'Bots wouldn't want her to give in so easily. The Decepticons needed her for some reason, so by some length, they wouldn't kill her. At least, not yet.

Encouraged by this realization, Fera looked back to the Decepticon and stared into her scrutinizing expression. "Bring. Your. Worst."

These were probably the stupidest words she'd said in her entire life.

~I already told you: I have no idea what the slag you're talking about.~ this conversation had been going on for joors now, never seeming to find an end no matter how many times the Guardian attempted at finishing it. He was seated back in the medbay area of the Autobots' section of the base, which had been moved to the southern wing now that less room was needed by the humans left in the building. However, how he had come to be in this particular room in the first place was highly figured by the mech as an outside interference by his fellow peers. They'd locked the door. And he certainly wasn't going to be let out anytime soon.

~I find that extremely perplexing you won't even consider the possibilities.~ Ratchet pressed over the comlink. Solas sighed through his vents and he drug a servo over his faceplates. What was there to discuss? Yes, he had considered it, and yes, he had felt odd -straight up shocking even- similarities between his emotions and Fera's. But to merely suggest such an outlandish choice in the issue was insane for such a sound mech as Ratchet usually was. When he wasn't throwing wrenches of course.

Solas was sitting atop the berth of the medical room with his spinal support pressed against the back wall. His frame was sagging with exhaustion even though he had went through a satisfying recharge. Maybe it was the realization that Fera really had been taken hostage that weighed him down. If there was any slight possibility that things could've been different; if he could have changed anything in his prior actions to stop Fera's abduction, he would have done it. The guilt was riding deep and the building hatred he had created for the opposing faction was bubbling over. The episode he had made in the lobby was fuzzy at best in his processor, and he could barely recall a thing.

~Perplexing? Ratchet, you're talking about completely illogical things here! If I would consider your theory, I would truly view myself as a crazed mech. I'm not going to be that kind of warrior. Not when my charge is in enemy control.~ he let his servo drop down beside the other on his lap. Once and for all, he was going to stop this. He would figure out this on his own if no one would help him. So be it if he got reprimanded by his superiors- at least Fera's rescue would be attempted. At that moment, they could be tearing her apart- seeking; searching, for something or some reason as to why she had been so heavily guarded by the Autobots. They had already taken so much from him, so he'd rip out his own spark before he allowed them to take her too. To be blunt with himself, he decided that she was all he truly had left to strive for. The friendship he seemed to be building with her didn't help that realization either.

The small spark was unusually quiet during this time and he was beginning to wonder what things would be like if Ratchet was right. How would it feel to experience something like that? None before him had developed such a condition, so there was no telling how it would be. ~Optimus has considered it.~ Ratchet piped up, breaking Sol's train of process. Solas rolled his optics and prodded the small spark to attempt at making it stir. It didn't even flicker.

~He is a Prime Ratchet, of course he's thought about it. Optimus doesn't understand the meaning of impossible, and so help him Primus when the time comes for him to realize some things cannot be, he will break.~

~Do you not want it to be true? Does it disturb you somehow?~

Yes. It was the word on Sol's glossa, but he couldn't find the starting strength to utter the single term. By some degree, he had felt uncomfortable with the idea Ratchet presented. But, after some processing in the most barren room some sick-processed mech could conjure up, he found that maybe it wouldn't be how he'd envisioned. He'd heard stories of it between his comrades and those back on Cybertron, but the minute chance that he maybe going through it himself was plain odd. ~No. Things that are unfamiliar to me tend to make me...anxious. I wouldn't know how it would be handled.~

A silent stretch echoed back through the link when there should have been- a chuckle? A skeptical remark? Some form of reassurance? ~How it would be handled.~ Ratchet echoed, ~First, we have to prove it before making any assumptions. Until then, you are on leave from active duty until you are fit to take action again by Optimus.~ there was a pause, ~That means attempting anything stupid mech.~ so he understood where the Guardian stood.

Solas' optic ridges came down and he curled his servos into tights fists against his legs. It was still a fresh wound in his spark at losing a battle he hadn't even been able to be apart of, and even more so when he brought up the feelings of those who had witnessed it first hand. They were all so full of anger and grief and shock...it had been too much. Along with the rage he felt himself and the concerns he had originally held for his charge, he'd snapped. From the moments before he blacked out until the brief exchanged between himself and his now quiet leader, there had been nothing but blind fury and a numb processor. All he knew was to destroy, shoot, and fight.

Fight.

That had been his most vivid file from everything. He understood what that was though he remembered nothing else from that time. The programs in his CPU that had developed into their own new motives rushed to take over and he was left unable to control himself when his frame seemingly moved itself. It was all just so much at one time to handle...he had nearly had a meltdown from the aftermath of it. When he had initially woken up, that had been the worst for him. The regret had crept from his core to immediately blossom outward and consume him whole. It was the medications and the lasting affects of the sedatives Wheeljack had used on him that had him in such a state, and he felt greatly agitated by the lack of ability to process anything else but his failure. The failure he couldn't have prevented no matter what he did.

~I make no promises.~ he finally answered darkly. His tone was emotionless, but the feel behind the words wasn't. Ratchet would notice something was amiss, but just what he could do about that was limited. Breaking off for a few nanoclicks, Ratchet picked up over the link again to say, ~Solas Kaon, we have this under control. If you go running after her, not only will the government be venting down our necks, but so will Fera.~ Solas growled at the name and he placed one servo over the lip of the table so he didn't indent his palms with the force of his grip. ~The Decepticons understand that she is important to us, but they don't know why. When they find one of our own risking his life to find her, they will keep her under harsher guard.~

~But if we simply leave her be, they'll assume she is but trash and toss her meaningless corpse aside.~

~I agree it is a lose-lose situation, but one is better than the other. We must figure which.~

~I don't have the patience for this Ratchet, nor do I want to take that risk!~

~Listen to me Solas, we have no choice! She is at their mercy and unless we can construct a sensible plan of action to take to retrieve her, she will stay that way.~

Solas let his raw emotion crumble over his barrier and he pushed it through the limited connections of the comlink to allow the medic a glimpse of what he was going through. The power of the silent message drew the conversation to an abrupt and deafening silence. So much broken trust filed along with the remorse billowing inside the younger mech's spark. He wished he could have at least tried to save her. He wished he could have attempted at keeping her safe from them. He wished he could have been a better Guardian.

And to think: not four quartexes ago, he was dreading the thought of risking his aft for a human.

If things were in his power and he were able to redeem the mistakes he had made before, he would have taken her place in a sparkbeat. A Cybertronian mech had a far greater chance of survival than that of a human. Noted, Fera was no regular human if her temper and rebellious attitude were anything to go by, but in the end, she was just human. Just human. ~She's only human Ratchet.~ he stated softly over the link, ~She doesn't have a lot of time.~

Solas picked himself up from the berth and began pacing the room. He wanted answers- something from someone who had been there and understood what went wrong. Not only that, but he wanted a plan. Surely, Optimus had some form of scheme in order? Or at least an idea to even discuss? He was quiet as of late- unusually so. The lack of words from the Autobot leader sent Solas in a nervous fit. His spark was recovering from the sedatives and he was beginning to feel the returns of the aggravation he'd felt earlier. She wasn't here, before him, safe and sound, and no one he trusted had her in sights either. That made him anxious.

~I know that Solas, but getting wound up over something you could not have prevented will not aid us any.~ Ratchet assured gently. Solas snorted and whipped around to start another round of paces. ~I don't want anything else other than something remotely close to a plan. If not, I don't want to hear a single mutter from you or anyone else.~

The silence was immediate.

Solas' frame tensed and he stopped mid-floor. Waiting. Waiting. But the quiet stretched on and Solas' optic ridges came down. The comlink was still open, yet not a sound escaped. Ratchet wasn't saying a word, which meant exactly what Solas did not wish to hear. Frustrated and angry at himself, Solas strode over to the wall, pulled his arm back, and he landed a swift punch to the smooth metal. The feel of the material as it curled around the shapes of his digits and the satisfying ring that came from the action was enough to dull his anger marginally. However, no matter the amount of devastation he caused, he knew that it wouldn't muffle his self-blame.

~I thought so.~ and he cut the link. What good would it give him to speak with a medic who didn't even know what he was dealing with? He was a specialist of the frame and systems, not of the psychological state.

Sol turned from the wall as if it disgusted him and he started to pace again at a slower speed. Staring at the floor seemed to distract his CPU enough that it didn't return to the heavy irritation still lingering along the edges of his mood. There wasn't much else he could do than think to himself in the peaceful joor he spent just walking back and forth between both sides of the room. A few times, he would lose his grip on himself and he would find a heavy object in his servos to throw. At one point, he lost track of his train of process and he foolishly let it drift back onto less desirable topics.

This fit left him sagged against the berth, venting large gulps of air while his left optic burned and buzzed. A scorching fire engulfed his plating and caused waves of heat to distort and bend the air surrounding him. Caved in prints ran along the berth on both sides of Solas anywhere he could have reached. Scuffs along the floor ran the path he had taken for the joor, colored a dark ash-grey.

In this length of time, his comlink had rung off the scale, pinging over and over before he had taken out his aggravations on the room. Again.

However, he refused to answer one of them. there had been requests from the twins, Wheeljack, Rethalia Prime, Mirage, Hound, and even once from Optimus Prime. Yet ignore them he did. No one was reaching through to him and he planned on keeping it that way until he figured out how to do what he wished to. So what if the 'Bots on base were trying to contact him? His own personal condition wasn't what should have been their concerns. And now, sitting against the berth as Solas was, with his servos gripped against the edge, he wouldn't allow them to focus on anyone but Fera.

At the sudden hiss that struck the air, Solas' helm snapped up and he rose as the door opened before him. He could feel the haze threatening the clarity of his thoughts, but the feel of his servo still clamped over the berth helped as a sort of anchor for him. It took him a few sparkbeats to recognize the 'Bot since his CPU was still not completely straight yet. He hoped his posture would be enough to deter the incoming mech, but by the expression on his faceplates, that wouldn't happen.

Hawktail entered the room with the utmost calm about him. He didn't seem put off by Solas' body language or the scene of the room. The memory of Stratis came up in Sol's CPU when she too seemed unaffected by his destruction of his past quarters. The similarities between the two were slightly disturbing.

Hesitantly, Solas turned to his side so his right shoulderbolt was facing Hawktail and his left servo was still connected to the berth. His still-blue optic watched Hawktail carefully while Sol tried keeping his left optic hidden. "Hawktail." he acknowledged bluntly

Hawktail paused not far from the door and he dipped his cranial unit. "Solas Kaon." the stoic stance of the armory smith put an uncomfortable spike in Solas' spark and he aimed his optics away so as to better keep the view of his ashamed past hidden. Of all his comrades to make an appearance, he wasn't expecting this one. Hawktail and himself were barely considered acquaintances, having only met one another a few times. To find him here now was just plain strange.

"I wished to speak with you. About your Guardianship." Hawktail went on. Solas jerked at this unexpected comment and he mistakenly flashed his one red optic before he could stop himself. Quickly, Sol turned it away again and he avoided looking at the surprised expression of the smith. The black and brown mech had fallen quiet and Solas vented a long sigh. His optics shuttered and he held them closed for a few nanoclicks. "I have...things...in my past that I don't have the confidence in to explain." he said, slowly moving his body forward once more and leaning back against the berth. His optics shuttered open and his shameful feature shown in a lighter tone than before. The effects were fading.

Hawktail watched him for about a click with his faceplates hard and his optics unreadable. Sol darted his gaze to the floor, unable to bear looking into the optics of a pure Autobot. This mech had grown into the ways of a righteous, protective 'Bot for peace. Solas Kaon on the other hand had grown into the ways of his mech creator, even going so far as to wear that vile badge for those few vorns. But no matter how short that stage had been, he'd still done it. One of the few to change from Decepticon to Autobot, yet he still acted as a 'Con. "Ratchet has tried correcting it, but it does nothing." he added, gesturing towards the discolored optic.

Again, the smith was silent. Sol dropped the optic contact between them to pull in a few cycles of air and recollect himself. This mech had come here for a reason. So what was it?

The brown and black mech suddenly moved and Solas glanced back up to cautiously observe the advancing towards him. Uncertainly, Sol tightened his grip on the berth and his frame turned still. It didn't take long for the smith to reach Sol, but when he did, he paused. He was looking over something, maybe taking mental notes of what he saw. When a breem passed and Solas felt his personal space being breached, Hawktail locked his optics with the Guardian's.

"A warrior wears his scars with pride. It is an untold story of life obstacles and true accomplishment. Had you ever dared ask a mech of his healed wounds upon his frame?" the question hung in the air and dulled to a harsh end. Solas shuttered his optics at the mech and knitted his optics ridges. He could feel his optic returning to normal, yet Hawktail still paid it the most attention as if it were the brightest object of the room. "Of course not. The one I knew with the most scars was Ironhide, yet I never asked him where he had gotten them from. What had this to do with my-"

"Exactly. And the one you bear now equals far more than he ever could have worn. Your plating may be covered with scars in every squared space available, but none will truly come to match this," he pointed a digit at Solas' faceplates and the Guardian reared his helm back, "or this." that digit sailed down and wordlessly pressed to the center of Solas' chassis. Right over his spark. "You may not have his wisdom, but you have his drive; his personal strife."

Lost for words, Solas stared at the smith and openly showed his confusion. Ironhide had been tenfold the warrior he ever was yet Hawktail was being told that his experiences were greater. That gun-toting, fiery-tempered weapons specialist would never be recreated. No matter how much they wished he could.

Solas' lip plates closed and he burrowed his optics low. No, he wouldn't be someone else. Nor would he pass another. He was his own mech with his own future and his own plans for himself. The comparison of his personal battles would never compare to Ironhide's, but they may collide in a similar way- in their unique style that was. The now serious Cybertronian standing before Hawktail lifted his own servo and pressed away the one there. Forget the lines of familiarity. Forget the paths led before him, waiting to be paved yet again by the next generation. His time was to be used manifesting his own destiny, not judging his achievements against a prior 'Bot's.

Sol turned away from Hawktail and passed by the door that had been left wide open. He'd rather destroy another room and get yelled at by a group of the humans than be left to the thought-inducing grasp of those walls and mocking lock system. Hawktail didn't realize just what the warrior was experiencing, even if he figured he did. No one would. It was a matter of broken pride, trust, hope, and patience. He was tired of being the helpless one of the base. He was tired of feeling the inability to do anything when his skills were needed. And he was tired of risking the life of his charge for his comrades' whims.

He passed the corner for the main wing and strode on by the groups of humans walking beneath him. When he walked without a second thought to their presence at his peds, they spoke up, even when he ignored many of their complaints. He reached the last hall in a shorter amount of time than he figured and he moved forward without a second thought. The white mech he wished to see was standing in the room with the other yellow and orange one he knew he would need.

The small spark inside of him stirred and he stopped dead. As quickly as he had been moving, he was still. His servo shot to his chassis and he focused on the internal presence alone. It was squirming sluggishly around the space it was in, almost trying to pull itself into the world of the online. Sol gently poked at it in curiosity and it reacted long after he had brushed it. Concern peeked in Sol and he drew in his optic ridges before subconsciously curling over the spark again. Its light seemed dimmer than before, with a sense of fading strength appeared there as well. The moment that light flipped off, Solas was on the ground, unconscious.

When stale documents are removed, do they become removed from my story too?

I've been wondering about that...

Much more to come, so I hope you guys can hold on with me just a little longer

And don't forget to review! :)

*Chapter Inspiration: Demons=Imagine Dragons*