This chapter was probably one of the hardest to write.

I don't really know why, but I guess I just couldn't find the motivation to type it up D:

But I can't tell you how happy I was to read all the lovely comments from last chapter.

It helped me out a lot - you guys really brighten my day :D

On another note,

The second half of this, the Cybertronian is of course in bold, however, later on, it is regular text. I'll let you know when it switches ^_^

And don't forget to read the one-shot on my profile: A Thousand Times Brighter

It involves Drift and Nova (before Sol came around), so check it out! :)

Enjoy!

Of The Spark And Heart

Part 2

Chapter 74

The walls were carved with subtle light. The silver was brandished and weathered down by those walking inside them, creating a homey atmosphere. Air was warm with the bodies inside, humming slightly along with them. They were in tune with everything around them, from the legs of the berth they shared, to the shadows roaming the forever land of the nether. Seams dripped with condensation as the conditioning picked up because of the heat from the beating sun outside. Still neither noticed the change, as they were too engrossed in what they were doing to dare mind anything else.

One mech and one fembot. It felt as though all stories began this way or another, right? A girl and a boy. A mech and a fembot. They meet, they fall in love, and everything turns out for the better. Isn't that how these stories go?

But are those stories not of fiction and whimsy? Where the girl never grieves and the boy gets his ultimate dream? Where not a single friend dies or a sickness can be spotted? Where parents approve of the infatuation and the couple is blessed with the life of their offspring down the line sometime or another? Is that not the perfect story?

This was not that perfect story.

They had suffered more than any should have. Their tale was of woe and horror and tragedy. Without the other, it was unclear if they would have broken under the pressure yet or not. One fed from the other, using their strength and mingling it with their own. Together they were stronger than any pair in the galaxies. And both held their secrets. Perhaps that was what their weaknesses were: secrets.

She knew far more than she led others to believe. She let them see the innocence of a new Cybertronian and allotted the time it took for her 'healing', where as she may very well be healthier than most fembots on the planet. That masked twinkle in her optic; the way she smiled in forced happiness; it was all ruse for the deeper darkness welling inside of her. Secrets.

He held a history that none knew completely of. Not even he apparently, for it was in his energon that a deeper destiny flowed. He'd been chosen by the Primes, as she was, however, none but five total beings knew about that. And he was determined to withhold the secret as long as painfully possible. Secrets.

Wisdom and Prophecy.

Past and Duty.

Solas grabbed the servos of the Keeper sitting before him and broke into a smile. His crossed legs strained when he leant forward, however, she wished it, so he complied. The possibility of he himself being a Keeper like her had him behaving in the strangest ways. At a certain amount, they were one in the same. Her servos were not so foreign any longer. Those optics were his optics. A barrier had been crossed when he knew he could be like her. Somehow a piece of himself clicked into place, and he socialized with the fembot easier. It put confidence in him that maybe he could protect her as he'd promised time and time again after all. They weren't separated, and she wasn't alone. Not anymore. That could make any mech smile.

Fera grinned and laughed a bit at seeing the expression on his lax features. A swell of flutters captured his spark and the mech's chassis rumbled. Her attitude after the destruction of the Saint Louis base had spurred his own to perk up. Odd as she was, to be this happy after a traumatizing event, he appreciated it. Things became tiring after too long being morose and uptight.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she prodded him, jabbing a digit into his side. Solas jumped, having not realized he'd been staring, and let his gaze fall to their touching servos. It was hard to keep down the burn crawling up to his faceplates.

"No reason," he brushed off. He attempted to regain his content, happy expression from before, but it all seemed to inevitably point him toward glowing blue cheekplates. Adamantly he kept his gaze on the violin she was holding his digits over. He'd made this for her. The fact that she appreciated it this much made his chassis want to swell in pride.

Fera's optic ridge came down and she chuckled teasingly. "Anyways," she went on, "this is the E string," The fembot's kneebolts bounced in the slightest way when she plucked the silver line on the instrument in her lap. Her optics lit up as the note rang out. How much had Solas done to try getting that back in her optics? She was becoming more and more like her old self every kalon. "You try."

She grabbed Solas' servo and gently moved his digit to touch the delicate line. Though he had crafted the violin and was already aware of how the strings felt, he did not argue with the fembot when she brought the two closer. His blunt digits didn't quite work as gracefully to string the line, but the way Fera tilted them a tiny bit, there was no difference between his sound and hers. A single, unbroken ring struck the air, tickling the shadows and trickling off the walls.

Fera's helm lifted and she grinned in glee. Solas rose his chin as well, looking for the view that was making Fera this joyful. Nothing caught his optic as it did hers. What was she seeing?

As if he'd asked that out loud, the fembot lifted her servo and took his chin in her digits, moving his sights to the corner. "You can't see it straight on, you have to look from the side," she instructed. Solas squinted his optics, trying desperately to see what she was seeing. However, he was blind to it, and he sighed in frustration.

"Fera, I don-"

"Shh, just look," she interrupted, her digits falling. Solas felt her frame hovering close to his, their faceplates but inches apart. His plates tingled with a burning fit of energy and he withheld the shiver building within him. Fera plucked the string, and as told, Solas looked from the limits of his vision instead of full on toward the corner, where the shadows dwelled at the condensation dripped. Surprisingly, he did manage to catch the remnants of a glittering, iridescent shimmer of the air as it vibrated alongside the note. It was a beautiful sight to see, even if it was in a fraction of his optical range.

Solas grinned, vents barely cycling any air. He could feel Fera's wafting against his frame, warming it, while they watched the majestic magic of music at work. "I see it," Solas murmured, almost afraid if he should scare the rainbow dawning in the pillars of light overhelm, or shatter this moment in total. Fera nodded - and she was close enough that Solas could feel her do it. There they remained, completely frozen, venting each other's air, until the rainbow fizzled out of existence and the room returned to the steady rumble of the ventilation shafts overhelm.

They suddenly turned their helms at the same time, causing their faceplates to be near enough that their noseplates brushed. The pair froze, dead, in the center of the room. Solas' optics were wide, same as Fera's, and his lip plates were opened partially, as was hers. Their features remained a vent's length from each other, to where Solas could see the mechanisms in Fera's optic shifting and hear the thoughts in her processor running. It was hard to process anything but her solidness against his frame - her servo upon his knee.

The way her lack of movement struck him down to his core was frightening. With a straight stare from her orbs of ice, she had him rooted to the floor, as if apart of the Earth itself. It was similar to when he had been in the rotting barn behind her old home in Amoret, with hoses wrapped around him and Fera yanking them from his shoulderbolt. She had stopped there, the green tubing in her hands and moonlight shining down on her hair and flushed cheeks. Now she was the same here, with a violin in her servos and a rainbow kissing her helm.

Unconsciously, Solas' servo was on her own, twitching into a hardened grip. The last thing he wanted at this moment was her to pull away. They leaned forward, the same entity, thinking the same thing, and wanting the same thing as well. Electricity danced on Solas' glossa and fire burned through his energon lines. A faint song, almost inaudible, drifted from both chassis, turning into a symphony when they met between the frames. Fera's optics were on the verge of closing, as was Solas'. Then they both halted.

~Solas Kaon, this is Optimus Prime.~

It took everything Solas had not to ignore his commander and return to the fembot in front of him. But Fera already sensed something was stopping him and she immediately sat backwards. Her helm bowed and she held the violin close, playing softly with the strings. Solas was left alone and cold, irritation sitting on his spark at this interruption.

With the stiffness of a mech going for his much-hated perimeter patrol, Solas pressed two digits to the comlink device on the side of his helm. "This is Solas," he sent back, both verbally and through comlink. Fera's optics darted up at him, then back down at her violin. She plucked the strings quietly.

~I have a request of you,~ the Prime stated tautly. He sounded somewhat out of sorts, as if in a hurry. Solas' optic ridges came down, noting the stranded tone in Optimus' voice. He stood and walked over to the door to his personal quarters, trying to pinpoint what the Prime was feeling.

"Is there something wrong, Optimus?" Solas wondered carefully.

A knock suddenly struck the door before Solas and his helm snapped up. He and Fera weren't expecting anyone at the moment, and as much, he was a bit surprised. He stepped up to the entrance and opened the barrier, revealing a flustered Optimus Prime behind. Solas' helm reared at the sight of his commander, venting heavily and faceplates drawn in obvious worry. Usually the figure was more stable than this.

Behind him was Stratis and Rethalia. The only seemingly flurried one between them was Rethalia. Which meant that this had something to do with Optimus and his mate. "Solas, we need your help," Rethalia managed, stepping up next to Optimus to grab his arm. Her optic ridges were buried deep into her wide, shockingly frightened, optics. "We can't find Liora anywhere. We've searched the entire base looking for her."

Solas' limbs went stiff, his spark dropping. He could hear Fera shifting behind him, her steps as light as bells. The heat from her frame touched his arm, signaling she was directly behind. "What happened?" she asked, servo coming up to nervously touch her chassis.

Rethalia came up, planting herself in front of Optimus. "Optimus was on patrol with Hound and Bumblebee while I was watching our youngling. I brought her to the refueling station to give her energon, however, when I turned around to give her the cube, she was gone," the fembot explained. Optimus placed a servo on the fembot's shoulderbolt and she let go of one, long, steadying vent. "Optimus came back to help me find her, and even Stratis has joined us, however I fear we still have not managed to locate our young one."

"Can't you feel her, in your spark?" Solas inquired, gesturing toward the Primes' chassis. Rethalia's servos locked over her spark while Optimus merely lowered his optics. "You should be able to locate her that way."

Optimus shook his helm, his optics shuttering. "We have of course tried, Solas," he agreed, grip tightening on Rethalia's shoulderbolt. "However, it seems as if she is too distracted or frightened to heed our hails - or is perhaps moving too erratically for us to locate her properly. It would have been easier if she were still a sparkling."

"If she were still a sparkling, she wouldn't have gotten away as easily," Solas snipped. He mentally slapped himself when he saw the creators wince. He shouldn't be berating the two Primes, he should be offering to help them. Though they were careless to leave a youngling unattended to, even for a sparkbeat, he knew how terrifying for them it must feel to lose sight of their creation.

Fera's servo touched Solas' spinal support and he looked down at her by his side. Her lip plates were pressed into a straight line, her optics hard. "Of course he's going to help," she offered in place of her Guardian, challenging him to argue through her fierce gaze. Without going to say, the mech was far outmatched when it came to fighting with the stubborn fembot. Of course, he tried nevertheless, expect different results. However, again and again he failed. There was a quality around Fera that never permitted his winning of any argument.

"I'll go," he agreed, never taking his optics off the fembot next to him. "Do any others know of her disappearance?"

"No, we would prefer to keep it between ourselves as long as we can," Rethalia answered.

Fera nodded in success and patted his chassis. As if he were a pet.

His optic ridges coming down, Solas didn't grant his leaders his optics while he watched Fera saunter away, obviously pleased with herself. "Excuse me for one moment," the Guardian requested, already shutting the door with a single press to the keypad. When the two were alone, a rolling rumble like that of an approaching storm wavered from him. He strode up from behind Fera, the fembot failing to notice what was out of order. Solas was upon her before she could see him, his arms swinging her around.

With a thrust, Solas had her against the wall. His grip was firm, but definitely not hard enough to hurt her. His faceplates hovered close, teasingly skirting over her surprised faceplates. Her optics were snapped open, her lip plates forming to make the words she failed to say. He could hear the startled patter of her spark, flashing in turn with the Stone on her chassis. It was not unusual that he would find the shock in her optics when he touched her. In the smallest ways, she was still the frightened, innocent human whom he had met on the freeway. Nevertheless, a grim reality of this war and its costs were certainly there. They were scars that Ratchet could not fix.

Solas moved his faceplates forward, fixing them not toward Fera's own, but beside her helm. He drifted by her audio until his crest laid against the wall behind her. There they stayed, standing with frames thrumming with the nonexistent space. The air coiled in warmth around their frames, which burned with being utterly alive. Air licked their scalding forms and wavered nervously about. Fera was pinned and trapped, though, beside that, she was still in control somehow. It confused him that the power was in her and not he, who protected her and bowed over her this instant. It was there, in the way she spoke and looked through the fabric of existence. It was the gaze of an aged Prime, not a fembot just entering their worlds. It frustrated and interested him all at once. He wanted to know her secrets.

But it seemed that first, he would have to tell her his. And he wanted to. So very, very badly. However, a force was keeping him from spilling his all to her. A promise to a Prime most likely. Most would kill before being subjected to breaking a promise to a near god. And Solas was among them. However, that made things no easier.

Gritting his oral sheets, Solas' optic slips shuttered and he grounded his crest into the wall in phantom pain. It felt as though they had been here for vorns, rather than a few nanoclicks. Solas' spark was aching for the bond he once shared. Funny...this was the first instance he'd admitted that to himself. It actually brought him agony to keep this from her. Fera, of all Cybertronians, was one he knew he could trust. With his all. He knew that now. But a promise was holding him back.

"I can make decisions by myself," he managed lamely, wincing at the pathetic words. Fera squirmed under him, unused to the brashness of the mech against her. He felt he should pull away, however, he merely raised his helm to see her faceplates, unable to steal himself back to the halls where his Primes waited just yet. He saw the distance in her optics and felt himself split down the middle. "When I find her, I'm going to come back." His reassurance only appeared to bring her back from whatever galaxy she had fallen into.

Her helm bobbed once, optics never leaving his features. Her fear was palpable. Solas tasted it on his glossa and felt it as a gritty sentiment between his digits. "I know," she answered, voice strained. Not for one nanoclick did he believe her.

"Fera," Solas began, cupping her mandible and stroking a thumb link over her cheekplate. "I'm still going to be in the building. Nothing in here may separate us, alright? I'm still coming back, and no force in this universe may stop me." His optics traveled down, taking her features in from chin to crest with utter delicacy. He hoped to Primus he wasn't lying straight to her faceplates. "They will have to tear out my beating spark before I let it happen again, alright? If it makes you feel better, I will give you my comlink information so you may contact me at any moment."

The mech reached up, plugging in his digit into the side of Fera's helm. She trembled briefly as the information uploaded. Her tremor made Solas' digits heat where they touched her. With a click, the contact had transferred, and Solas withdrew. His helm ducked to catch Fera's wandering optics, and gave a grin. His digits raised from her helm to his own, pressing the comlink device by his audio. "Can you hear me?"

The surprise in the fembot's optics was enough to give him his answer. Her servos rose to the left side of her helm, both cupping the device there. A smile passed over her once foggy expression. "It's almost as if we still had our bond," she murmured. Those simple words sent a searing spike right down Solas' core. He felt his spark twisting as painfully as it had when the bond had shattered. His vents ceased their cycling and he had to keep himself from clenching his servos. As the pain always did, it left him numb and restless.

Revving his vocal capacitor, Solas finally lifted himself away from Fera. The atmosphere became far colder without her against him. She just stood, unable to feel the empty grabbing of his spark and hear the whining keel of his torn psyche. It was a wave he could not combat and a field of battle he could not outrun. He was shooting at enemies that were not there.

"I'm leaving," he said, blankly. Fera nodded, her expression more content now with the option of instantly contacting her Guardian at whim. Solas backed away, feeling frozen down to his gridmap. When he was at the door, the shuffling of the three Autobots outside his door leaking inside, he entered the code to get outside, but paused at pressing the 'enter' key. "Don't get yourself killed while I'm gone."

~I have too much to still pay you back for,~ Fera sent him, the biggest smile yet crossing her faceplates. ~I won't allow anything to happen.~

Solas left before he could say or do something he would regret. Leaving behind Fera was difficult, but if it meant not allowing her to see the inner turmoil brewing toward his surface, it was worth it. She would surely hear every secret he had to tell. But for now...it was nor the time, or place. Would it ever be?

A giggle floated about on the sandy winds coursing through the vessel, followed closely by the audio-splitting sound of metal on metal. Along the dank corridors, flanked on either side by an empty space, as neighbors of this room had long ago moved out, a daring being could wander toward the gripping nothing of the halls. It sucked the life from any Cybertronian traveling them, thus, even new recruits were wise enough to stray far away. Then again, there was always that single, unlucky mech that got lost, or curious, or arrogant, and stepped down the way. It was forbidden territory for any besides its owner. Thus, those that disappeared down its depths, usually never appeared again.

A cackle made the walls fill with a chilling wave of tremors. The ship was listening in on the devious activities of its patron. With vigor, shadows crept between cracks, settling for viewing space, or the breeze stilled to tune in. Gossip would be spread along the carry of the wind later on, for that was how secrets and lies were spread. The wind whispered them in one audio, whom they then whispered into another, and the cycle continued on. Until the unlucky source was found by the victim, the wind played its games. And there it went on with its play, never having reason to stop. For it was never caught.

Arachnid's helm snapped backward, her lip plates stretched unnaturally wide. Her expression was wild - beyond comprehensible sanity. The space around her was in shambles, to where a bachelor mech may be disgusted. Broken shelves lay in slivers, racks leaning against the walls with dust and cobwebs marking up their silver surface. Cracks laced up the crusted and neglected barriers surrounding her. Screens were black or filled with crackling static. They had failed long ago, however, the fembot quite enjoyed the sense of noise. It shivered the air, wrecking the still and bringing flickering flames of darkness to decorate her otherwise dust-painted walls.

Staleness was in every niche and cranny. Empty energon cubes sat unattended to, collecting in a crystal form as they had in their pure and unrefined state, or in a strange blue moss. Arachnid was studying this strange turn of her energon, and refused to toss out the rancid material, though it sent a rank odor throughout her small end-of-the-hall sanctuary. Her berth was lopsided, letting her frame slip toward the wall when she laid upon it. The bulbs above her were bad simply from sitting in disuse. Everything, including she, were in desperate need of maintenance.

As she had laid in her berth, staring up at the vision of her beloved appendages curbed above her, she noticed a few things.

First: She had lost control of this ship. Not long ago, she had been queen and supreme ruler. Now, she was a mere plaything for her Master to throw about as he saw fit. She should have felt honor in serving the Unmaker. However, all she did feel was pity and self-loathing at her utter weakness. What had she become? Slowly, she was turning back into that disgrace of a fembot Galefire. The name made a distasteful, acidic burn waft over her glossa.

Second: Stratis was becoming increasing bothersome as time went on. The fembot simply did not understand when to leave her sibling be, and their bond was suffering because of it. Arachnid wished for the term when she had barely felt her other half there, when all feeling had been nothing or less, and there was no Stratis to be weary of. With this game of back and forth between them, it was becoming almost crippling to block the spy out. They had been close once, yes. That was then.

Third: She could trust no mech or fembot on the wretched vessel anymore. With the traitorous actions of Bekos, and his Thunderblast, loyalties had been seriously questioned. Bekos was of the highest in regards by Galvatron. To have the mech simply walk out -or should she say jump out- of his ranks had snapped a string in his processor. The overlord was beyond reasoning anymore, as if he had been before, and that included killing his own underlings to place them through the Kremzeek experiment. He'd run out of deadsparked subjects, if one couldn't guess.

Arachnid wasn't positioned in her berth at this nanoclick anymore, for the countless thoughts racing in her ravaged processor were driving her insane. It had begun with laughing, with her sides heaving and her vents struggling to keep up. Then a furious assault on the comlink screen in her quarters, which was why the glass appeared in a glorious ripple pattern, and produced nothing but crackling black and white. And finally, this crazed desire to mark up her walls.

Still as iron, the fembot stood, carving with the utmost care, each and every designation she planned to end some time or another. The list went on and on and on, until she was forced to move down the line. When that first one was finished, she started all over again at the other end of the wall, making her rounds with tiny laughter bubbling from her systems. Sparks flew from the keenness of her digit, trailing, carving, into the flesh of the wall. Every 'Bot or 'Con or other essence she had loathed from her time of creation until now dressed the walls. Their designations graced her presence, filled with phantom acid that overflowed before her frenzied optics.

It went with the older names first, when she had still been young, and kept her hatred hidden on Cybertron: Wingblade, Dasher, Saber, Casibra, Kalipso, Bulkhead, Bundure, Stable, and Nightjade...that list was uncountable.

The second line was after she had joined the Decepticons, where scars certainly dressed each of their frames from her outer show of disaffection: Soundwave, Thunderblast, Dirge, Sunstorm, Rumble, Brawl, Skywarp, Nightbird, Motormaster, Cyclonus, Deadlock, Bekos, Titanios, Starscream, and Galvatron... That list could have gone on for the entire wall, however, Arachnid doubted her digit would have stayed sharp enough for that. Most of those placed here would have been traitors, or merely insignificant mistakes of their race that annoyed Arachnid to no end.

Then there was the list of those that had become her targets of Earth. Excusing the Decepticons already labeled, the list went: Solas Kaon, Optimus Prime, Bumblebee, the Twins Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, Rethalia Prime, their apprentices and mentors, Prowl, Red Alert, and all other mechs and fembots stationed on Earth (for the list is too long to be mentioned), Captain Robert Epps, Colonel James Marks, and the remaining of the humans stationed on the Autobot bases.

And at the very top of the lists, where Arachnid had to stretch the appendages from her spinal support to reach, she made one designation larger than the others: Fera Lennox.

Arachnid smiled again, helm tipping to the side. That name...it had caused all this to happen. Arachnid had been in charge and dominant on this planet. The Autobots were losing the war and everything had been going according to her plans. She could see the delicious surrender of the Autobot commanders surrendering themselves, fallen to their kneebolts, with their helms bowed and ready to be tortured. That would be where Arachnid bellowed in achievement, and lopped off the helms of the last Primes. It would have been the lovely victory of the Decepticons, left for all of history to marvel at.

One, single race, ruling above all.

Then came Fera Lennox, which led to Arachnid's doubt, which in turn led her to revive Megatron into Galvatron, which unintentionally stripped her of her leadership over the Decepticons.

Arachnid sighed, optics shuttering, and her spinal support arched backwards. Her arms hung, the legs on her spinal support fanning out in the pleasurable visions her processor concocted. Once, things had been simple. Arachnid had been Galefire and she had lived with her sister Stratis on Cybertron in their small domicile in thd fifth district of Kaon. Galefire had been in love, with a gladiator no less, and worked her separate shifts at the club and mines.

Galefire had been weak. Pathetic. Ignorant. Sickening. Arachnid was ashamed to have ever been apart of that wretched lotta of a fembot.

Sunstreaker. Who was that mech, to believe he could kiss her? It made her nauseous, when she processed the memory, and at the same time, a warm fuzz would capture her spark. It was that puny side of her spark that still held on to her old life. The puny side that wanted her sister back and to escape to Cybertron - to their older orns. That puny side that still...loved him.

-See Don't Forget on my profile for info on this couple :)-

"Fragging traitor," she hissed, fists clenching and frame straightening. Sunstreaker was one of them. So was Stratis. She had been betrayed by everyone she believed she loved, and they had done nothing to beg her forgiveness. Not until she'd held the Galvanizer in her digits and threatened to shoot their comrade Solas. Sunstreaker had been one of the mechs responsible for the deaths of Arachnid's...Galefire's...friends. He'd never said sorry. Never looked her in the optics after that.

"I'll tear both their sparks from their chassis and crush it right before their dying optics," she growled, scoring her clawed digits over the entire army of lists, leaving jagged, chrome-colored scratches behind. One by one, she crossed off all the designations already gone. Then, she circled the ones on her higher target. As she did this, she began humming a song to herself, from when she had worked in the mines, when the darkness had eaten their frames and the milky illuminance of their optics was all that could be made out.

"Take me past this pain;

leave me to my enemies.

Brand me a creator;

never shun me a traitor.

As energon beats in my spark;

darkness poisons my lines.

Signal my stay;

open thy light, or shed life to this Pit.

The Unmaker is here;

let him rise, let him rise, let him rise.

For he is my light."

A groan split the air, shattering the fragile quiet. It grew into a frustrated rumble, causing the entire room to shiver. Humans nearby bowed a wide arch, afraid to cross the path of the one responsible for that noise. It was in their best interest that they did this, less they wanted the wrath of one of the Autobot's most unstable warriors. And Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were under the same roof.

Accompanying him, this mech dazzling in sleek blacks and crimson, was an equally as intimidating fembot. Her litheness scoured as a knife while she searched for something the humans had no understanding of. All ears that didn't understand Cybertronian were left confused as they passed by the Autobots. A conversation was developing between them from across the room. They were throwing things, causing figures of flesh to flee unless they were to be smashed under heavy crates or vehicles.

Solas shoved a tank aside as though it were merely a bike, his helm craned forward while he swept his flurried gaze from side to side. What he was looking for was kept strictly to himself and the creators responsible. It was not in his discretion to involve Captain Epps or other, for the sole reason of Liora's secrecy. The Decepticons still -shockingly- did not know of her existence. As much, the Autobots would have preferred to keep her under reps as long as they could - for her safety, and their own. There was no telling what a creator would do to protect their creation. Especially when both those creators were Primes. What the frag had they been processing.

"They couldn't have been, that's it," Solas grumbled to himself, catching the eyes of a few workers walking past. The mech was holding a small crate of supplies when he looked over, catching them. He promptly snorted, dropping the crate. "Please, tell me what you're staring at."

They went a few shades paler, jerking at his snippy tone. Together they hurried off, refusing to glance back at him while they escaped to the halls. Solas was never known for his happy attitude, thus it was not surprising when he'd lashed out at the humans. Nevertheless, he'd rarely been that irritated with the laborers of the base. Even when the doctors had kept him locked down in one of the interrogation rooms and belted him for what made him tick. For joors he had dodged answers that would have given away too much. It had become a game, trying to satisfy the humans, without revealing something that would turn against the Autobots somehow. Ever since then, coupled with the stories of human 'hospitality' in the past decacycles, Solas had been weary of mankind. None could blame him in the beginning when he'd argued against guarding Fera.

Solas stood straighter, his oral sheets gritted. His plates were swollen off his frame slightly, trembling in a mixture of agitation and anxiety. If they didn't find the youngling soon, she could wander outside. If the Decepticons happened to be in the area, they could snatch her and use her as ransom against the 'Bots. There was no telling what the Primes would have agreed to to get their young one back.

The Guardian grew furious at the idea, and threw his fist at the wall closest to him. With a deafening ring, a dent marred the surface. Pain stung the knuckles of Solas' servo. His hydraulics hissed when he retracted the arm. His features were hard and unwavering, his left optic edged with purple. "She's not here," he called to Stratis, whom had been his partner to scour the base for the youngling.

When the mech turned around he found not only Stratis, but the whole gathered population of humans and Cybertronians in the room, looking at him. Stratis and he had been assigned search of the main lobby, so it was no surprise that there would be a fairly large audience spectating.

Stratis was standing on the complete opposite side of the floor, holding the folded slab of a metallic structure in her servos, optics turned toward him. Scaffolds full of people, analysts, soldiers, and medics alike, became witness to the mech and his frustration. Mirage was sharpening his blades, uninterested, as if nothing had happened. Moonracer was taking stock on a compad in her servos. Hound, Bumblebee, and Rodimus were gathered by a scaffold to his front left. Epps was there, along with Sarah Lennox and Colonel James Marks. They'd been speaking with Hound and Bumblebee before apparently catching Solas in his expression of aggravation. Sarah was sitting on Hound's shoulderbolt, and another, tanner male was perched on Bee's. None other than Samuel James Witwicky.

Solas grew quiet under the heavy weight of eyes and optics on him. He quickly strode forward to Bee's group, trying to ignore the sights following him. The ones he walked to didn't say a single word until he was upon them, vents whirring and expression failing to hide his inner embarrassment.

"Who is 'she', Solas?" Rodimus questioned, stepping up and lowering his voice. Solas shook his helm, his optics darting around them to the humans listening in.

Finally, Rodimus seemed to understand the Guardian's hesitation, and raised his faceplates. With a firm voice, the former Prime announced for all, "Back to your business! This is a personal matter, unconcerned with yourselves!" His command rang clear, for all humans in present moved off to return to their work. The Autobots here remained less willing to turn away, however, they eventually came back to their normal happenings without much hesitation. Mirage hadn't changed what he was doing, and kept on with his sharpening. Stratis kept her distance, continuing her seeking in the near hallway.

Rodimus returned to Solas, giving the mech his full attention. "What is going on? Why did you snap at those humans?" he questioned. His optic ridges came down and Solas suddenly felt far younger than the mech. Rodimus was actually a few vorns younger than the twins, meaning he was closer to Solas in age than even Bee was. However, the ex-Prime acted as though he had Optimus' experience. Or more. It was downright disturbing when he spoke a prophecy from a story that had been lost long, long ago that even Optimus didn't remember. Rodimus had been the youngest Prime in history. He never showed that.

Solas crossed his arms, lip plates pressing into a stern line. His optics found Samuel, sitting nonchalantly on Bee's shoulderbolt. "What is he doing here?" Solas demanded to get off the topic, locking gazes with Rodimus. "Isn't he stationed on the military base in Nevada?"

Bumblebee turned to Solas, servo coming up to lay on his old charge's legs. Something about the image of the unchanged version of Bumblebee, next to the aged picture of the Witwicky boy, pulled at Solas' spark. Fera could have ended up like that: ever growing older, without his ability to control it. Bee would have barely shuttered an optic when Samuel would be gone. Mortality gave mercy to no human it seemed. Fera was one of the lucky ones. But would she be lucky, when all the loved ones she knew would be gone as well? Solas hadn't thought of that as of yet.

"Sam was bringing up a report from Nevada on a possible sighting of the Nemesis," Bumblebee defended. "I brought him up here myself."

Solas made a note to himself that explained the mech's recent disappearance. It was brief, but Cybertronians were known to sometimes travel faster than an Earth jumbo jet. Why take kalons to travel from one place to another, when he could risk being seen, and cut that time in half?

Solas' optics narrowed in disapproval and Bee shrunk back. "That was reckless," he scolded, nodding toward Sam. "Not only did you put his life at risk, but the security of this base as well. The speed of your return leads me to believe that you could very well have been found by a Decepticon tracker, as Optimus was last decacycle, and followed here."

"I wasn't!" Bee argued. Poor Sam was left dazed and confused, not quiet able to understand the Cybertronian Solas was speaking, and thus having only Bumblebee's comments to go off of. It appeared being with the Autobots eighteen-plus decacycles never improved his Cybertronian very well.

Hound patted the cyberling on the spinal support, supporting his fellow scout with a solid slap to the plates that almost made him drop Sam. Sarah reached out in concern to the man on the yellow comaro's shoulderbolt. "We made certain Samuel and Bumblebee arrived safely, Solas. The rest of the Witwicky family are back in Nevada, waiting for his return. He is merely visiting."

Solas moved his optics from one being to the next, unable to hide his doubt. Epps was his calm self as always, his arms crossed and his dark eyes observant. James stood at ease next to his Captain, hands behind his back and head turned for the Guardian. Sarah was Sarah, and continued to be the motherly figure who questioned Sam's wellbeing until the male reached his limits on patience. Hound watched their exchange in his content manner, having been around the human populace long enough to probably be comforted by their now-arguing. Bee remained vigilantly quiet, wise to let Sam handle things on his own. Besides, who wanted to go against Sara Lennox? Rodimus continued to wait for Solas' next words, remaining with optics on the mech in anticipation.

"Make sure he gets back safely," Solas commented, tipping his helm at Sam. His past irritation was fading, leaving him calm and less stern. "We wouldn't want to lose another priority."

As Solas walked away from the scene, he could hear the lasting words of Sam, who always seemed to find a way to make the situation more humorous than it should have. "Wait, what did he mean by that?" Bee's old comrade inquired, voice high with anxiety. "What happened to the last one?!"

"Arachnid snapped her spine," Rodimus intoned.

Solas growled and stalked faster into the halls, his servos balled into fists at his sides. Well there went his mood again. Was it truly necessary for Rodimus to bring up old wounds? Solas felt his energon running hot, and he subconsciously reached for his broken bond with said fembot. As expected, nothing returned but an empty, bitter echo. He could feel her there, alive and well, however, he could not communicate and they were left with aching disappointment.

He didn't know where he was going, as he'd blocked out the worlds so vigilantly he'd lost his way. The mech stopped in his tracks, lifting his helm to look around him. He was in the west wing, passing by the supplies hangar. Staff walked around him without noticing his existence. They were too engrossed in one another, or the occasional technology in their tiny hands. Bluestring could be seen further down the way, aiding Prowl in addressing a problem one of the analysts were having. Shouldn't they be in the center building, in the communications hub?

A servo touched Solas' shoulderbolt abruptly and he spun around in shock. Stratis was there, her servo yanked back before the mech could grab it. It wouldn't be the first time he'd almost broken her arm when she'd touched him from his blind spot. Her optic ridges were burrowed in her optics, their glow bright and menacing.

"We should begin heading back," she suggested in Cybertronian, opening her palm toward the entrance to the wing. "Regroup with the others." She began away without waiting for him, and Solas was sure she would have left him there if he didn't follow. When he did, he kept at her side. His longer legs allowed him to keep pace with the speedy fembot. Almost to the point where he was leading them, instead of the other way around.

"Do they know where to meet with us?" 'They' being Optimus and Rethalia.

"Do you?" Stratis questioned, optic shooting to him from the corner of her optic. He didn't answer, struck silent, and the spy smirked. Of all the things, this was funny to her? They turned the corner under the soaring doorway, returning to the airy openness of the central network. A web of halls and corridors led to a medical area, barracks, the south wing -which was made specifically for the Cybertronians-, and analytical area. Supplies were solely in the west wing, where they had left.

Sol lifted his servo at the greeting of a physician who had played a major part in Fera's survival alongside Doctor Shelby: Stephen Peters. That man was one of the people responsible for keeping Fera in her coma, and not a coffin. He held Solas' respect. "Where are we headed?" Solas asked Stratis, coming back to the topic of attention.

The black spy, who was trained by Jazz back on Cybertron, and had fought bravely alongside him for a great many times before turning militia in his absence, fell into a silence that had become a sort of signature for her. She gazed down the hall they traveled, never giving him her full optic contact while they spoke. "Your quarters, where we had been originally," she answered calmly, dodging around the body of a distracted woman rushing down the halls. None other than Terra Shelby herself. The auburn-haired woman pushed up her glasses and squeaked, pulling her clipboard to her chest.

She pushed up her glasses and lifted her face, finding Solas and company moving by. "Oh, Solas Kaon!" she exclaimed, a smile appearing beneath the faint freckles splashed on her cheeks. "It's good to see you!"

"You as well," he returned in English respectfully, grinning some before walking away with Stratis. The fembot was already a league or two ahead, and the mech jogged a few paces to catch up. "You were saying...?"

"I already contacted Optimus and Rethalia. They're meeting us at your quarters." Her slim optics went from Solas to the hall a few times as they continued on. The barracks were in their sights, merely yards down the way. At the end of the corridor, Optimus and Rethalia could be seen walking their way. Their expressions were anything but baring of good news. As expected of two creators who had lost their creation, Solas couldn't say he was shocked. A part of him believed to find them with the bubbly youngling in their arms.

If this were Cybertron, Liora's disappearance would not have been taken this heavily. Without war and without a desperate enemy on their servos, Optimus and Rethalia would have searched for Liora on their own. However, this was no Cybertron. There was a war going on, and they did have a ruthlessly desperate enemy fighting against them.

Solas and Stratis met with their leaders in front of the door. "She is nowhere we could find," Optimus rumbled, his voice marred with the worry only a dolanno could understand. His servo came up to grip Rethalia's shoulderbolt. Whether that be for his own support, or hers, was unclear. The fembot grabbed that servo, biting her lip plate. Her optics dropped to the floor under the watch of her two comrades. Perhaps the situation was getting to her. This was a massive issue that could very well turn disastrous very quickly.

They needed to regroup, and recollect themselves. Solas lifted his servo, placing it on the side of Rethalia's arm. "We will find her," he assured, catching the mildly surprised view of the fembot creator. At least she wasn't crying.

Rethalia studied every detail of his faceplates until she'd had enough. With a nod, she stepped away from the door to give him room to the keypad. Solas made sure he was keeping in processor the thoughts that must have been running through the creators' CPUs. What would he be doing in this situation? It was difficult to imagine him with a sparkling of all things, but he did his best to make due. He could feel the protectiveness flowing stronger through him, as it did when he found himself guarding Fera. It wasn't as strong as he would prefer, but it helped his speed.

Solas went to work entering the code for his personal quarters. He sent a comlink message to Fera, telling her that he was coming in. But, as his digits slowed, he found it was taking longer than necessary for her to respond. When he'd hooked her up at first, the fembot had responded immediately. The mech's optic ridges came down, his faceplates lifting into the barrier. His servo hovered, stalling in entering the final key. Something was holding him back.

A servo touched his arm, and the mech had to physically keep himself from startling away from it. His teal orbs darted across the door, looking for he didn't know what. "What is it?" Stratis asked him, her servo leaving his bracer.

The mech continued to watch the door as his senses came into a new high. His scanners, both temperature and mass specification, were put at their capacity for range. They couldn't reach past the door. Frag.

"Nothing," he brushed off, twisting his helm around to the fembot. "We need to meet in here, regroup, get our bearings together." The barriers slid aside and Solas made sure well he was first to set ped in his barrack. He passed by in a hurry, his weapon on the verge of releasing. "We haven't checked the outside grounds. We need to get the others and-"

The group stopped dead in the doorway, very well almost crashing into one another when Solas halted mid-step. It wasn't from any danger that he did so. It wasn't the sight of Fera that stopped him either. It was the being in her lap that caught his attention most.

It was a smaller thing than her, with its total length being no longer than her torso. The color of its miniature frame was a glowing sort of indigo shade, darker at the edges, with its details scored in violet. A happy gleam of silver poked out from its sensitive, still-developing protoform. Vents whirred as laughter rang high and mighty in the otherwise shocked silence. Warm radiated from the smile on Fera's faceplates as she gazed down upon the form in her grasp. Together they giggled and murmured things to each other. Fera tickled the small youngling until it was nearly hyperventilating.

Liora was nowhere they were looking because she had been right here this entire time.

"Fera...?" Solas whispered, unable to bring his voice any higher. The fembot went without notice, her legs curling closer to Liora's small body. Liora laughed, wriggling from the fembot's grip and throwing her arms around Fera's neck.

Behind her smile and chuckling, Fera's optics finally found Solas and the others, standing lifeless at the door. Her smile brightened and she patted Liora's spinal support. With a murmur in the little one's audio, she pushed off the floor, Liora still in her arm. "Hey everyone!" Fera exclaimed happily, shifting Liora to her hipbolt. The youngling turned around, her wide optics sweeping her surroundings. "I found this one in the hallway outside your door Solas, crying her optics out."

Liora's features perked up and she squeaked in joy. Sparkling chatter sputtered sporadically from her vocal capacitor. A tiny servo patted Fera on the chassis, her babbling growing in intensity. Solas was passed without warning by Rethalia Prime, his shoulderbolt bumped as the relieved creator rushed forward. She grabbed her youngling and held her close to her chassis, her helm bowed next to Liora's. Fera stood, smile faltering.

Solas walked up to her, studying Rethalia as the fembot hugged Liora for a good click before loosening her grip. "Have you all seen her before?" Fera questioned, genuinely confused. "The poor thing seemed lost. She's the cutest creature I've seen on two peds." A grin crossed her lip plates and she stepped to Rethalia, brushing her digits over Liora's cheekplate. A giggle ensued from her target, and the fembot creator watched in loving awe at her creation's reaction.

"This is our youngling, Fera," Optimus said, coming near to his family unit and cupping a large servo to the back of Liora's helm. "We have been searching for joors now to find her." He appeared unnaturally calm, having just lost his youngling, only to find her in the exact spot where they had begun this all. Solas was merely struck still as ice, unable to comprehend the image of Fera with a youngling, or the fact that he had missed searching this place.

Fera sighed, locking her servos before her. "We've been playing ever since I found her," she explained, expression content. Sol's charge glanced at him, sending a stab of heat through him. He hadn't realized his lip plates were parted until then, and he swiftly snapped them shut.

"I believe she likes you," Rethalia chuckled, barely able to hold her creation as Liora gushed over Fera. The femlet's arms were outstretched, her lip plates struggling to pronounce Fera's designation correctly. Sol's spark beat faster at this scene, with Fera holding a youngling to her chassis, while the little one clutched her neck in affection.

There was a factor of her being human that had been stripped from her that Solas hadn't been wise enough to recall. Every human reproduced. Solas had the rare opportunity to witness a human bragging proudly over the picture of their creation, or see an adult human walking their offspring across the road, hand in fleshy hand. He'd heard about the ultimate wonder and beauty that humans saw in creating another one of themselves. The Decepticons merely saw insects multiplying, however, it seemed that things were deeper than that. Fera would never get to experience being a mother, with a baby in her arms and a loving male at her hip. She would never see a part of her grow elder and produce offspring of their own. The kalon her spine snapped, that had been unfairly taken from her.

Solas kept himself from gritting his oral sheets together. Could Fera reproduce in her frame? Would it be too dangerous to? What would be the complications? Solas was a perfectly healthy mech, and had never planned on bonding to any fembot and having sparklings in his life cycle. Seeing Optimus and Rethalia and how Liora made them so happy...it made him wish that he would have bonded and taken part in that mysterious connection. Astrea could very well have been a great nannia. She could have made him a happy mech. If she hadn't perished that orn on Cybertron...

"I would hope as much," Fera commented, snapping Solas from his revere. "I gave her my last energon sweet that Solas had made me so she would stop crying." Her optics met his and her lip plates stretched upwards. It was when he found that her expression of happiness was directed at him that his cheekplates grew hot. Did Astrea ever make him feel that way? Where his cheekplates would get warm and his spark would patter in the oddest way?

Sadly, his answer was no. And that made all of this, that much more complex. "It's...it's alright, I can make more," he said, still a bit distracted.

Fera was already facing Rethalia again, her servos on the fembot's shoulderbolt and her frame bouncing on the soles of her peds. "May we play again some other time? I really enjoyed having her here for company." Her expression was pleading, if but playful, as a sparkling's was when they received a new toy. Liora peered at her creators hopefully, though she did not understand the English Fera was speaking.

Optimus nodded, motioning downward to take Liora from her fembot creator's arms. "Of course," he rumbled, smiling himself in his comforting way.

The extra height must have struck a chord in Liora, for she twisted in her dolanno's grasp and strained her arms in Fera's direction. Her optics filled with lubricant and her lip plates puffed into a pout. "Fairy!" she called in Cybertronian, apparently reverting to nicknames after failing to sound out Fera's designation properly. "Fairy!"

Fera lifted a servo to Liora and Optimus lowered himself some to allow the far shorter fembot to reach. With a single lay of her servo to Liora's arm, the youngling was silent. Her cheekplates were damp from her tears, however, her whines had turned to whimpers. "It's alright, we'll meet again soon," Fera promised. There was a hint of soothing in her voice which calmed Liora immediately. Had her maternal instincts from being human carried over into her fembot programming? If that was the case, then Fera was more precious a character than any of them could have originally believed.

"I'll even show you a magic trick next time, if you're good," Fera added, snapping her digits. A spark crackled from them, brought on from the Stone glowing on her chassis. Giggles erupted from Liora and the youngling clapped. Fera's features turned to Solas and she waggled a digit at him, her expression turning stern. "Solas, you have to make sure that she doesn't wander off again, you're her uncle."

Sol jerked at that word, finding it unfamiliar and strange. "Uncle?" he repeated, pointing at himself. He didn't know what an 'uncle' was, or what role they played. But, it must have been significant, for Fera's 'uncle' Robert Epps had stepped in greatly after Fera's father died in combat.

The mech stiffened as Fera trotted his way. She took his servo in her own and backed up, taking him with her to the Primes and their creation. Stratis was no help when he managed to look back at her, an amused edge to her usual sharpness. This side of the spy was both annoying and frightening, for Solas had yet to see it until she'd come to Earth. Then again, he hadn't known her well on Cybertron either.

Solas allowed himself to be kidnapped by Fera, his frame relaxing and his lip plates coming up at the sweet notion Fera was putting forth. In her optics, they were all family. It was a truly beautiful thing. For vorns upon vorns, Solas had been searching for a place where he fit in. Now, as a possible Keeper himself, he found himself right where he'd been seeking for all along. With Fera's servo in his, he intertwined their digits, which made her smile even bigger.

"Come on, it's time to say goodbye."

But in fact, he was welcoming a new start.

Oh, what sweet, sweet fluff...

Too bad that's all gonna end soon :D

Aren't I just the evilest thing?

Anywho,

Thanks everyone, I love you all!

And wish me luck, tonight I'm seeing TF 4: Age of Extinction in IMAX!

It's my first IMAX movie, and I'm super hyped about it!

See you all next week :)

*Chapter Inspiration: Falling Slowly= Chester See & Savannah Outen*