I've been seeing back to school sales already, and I nearly had a heart attack.

I am not looking forward to going back.

Anywho,

Here we are folks, with another week and another chapter :)

It's a little slower than the others, but there's enough emotion here to share around,

I think at this point, OTSH is some kind of Cybertronian soap opera O.o

Enjoy!

Of The Spark And Heart

Part 2

Chapter 78

Night had befallen the land. It was fitting, she supposed, that a chilled curse would overtake the warmth of the day. It always fell. But if there was one force in the universe she could consistently believe in, it would be that the sun would rise again every day. And that was more to say than some other forces she'd put her trust into.

The stars were beautiful away from the city. They were bright and magnificent against the slate of onyx that was the skies. Interesting enough, they stayed in the exact same position no matter where she moved. Stepping across the emerald meadows of dew-covered stalks and milky blooms of flowers, they seemed to follow her wherever she went. A tiny part of her liked to think of them as company, preventing her from ever being lonely. But it was a sad company, as they were never near, and they never spoke.

Simply staring into the dark sea of sky, without a tree or cloud to block her way, she became terrified. It was just so big. To imagine her planet, swimming along in the ocean of stars and celestial deities, she grew uncomfortable. It was overwhelming, to try fathoming the power that could have created the universe. Solas told her that it was Primus who, in their legends, had created the entirety of it. Epps countered that by saying it was God. She had a difficult time separating these two entities, and as such, she pleasantly blended them as a unified, humanoid Cybertronian. Things seemed more pleasant that way.

A servo slipped into hers and while she strode on, she continued to stare into the billions of tiny white bulbs floating in limitless space. Her body leaned on his, as right now, he was the only solid thing in existence. Not to mention, the warmth he gave off compared to the unforgiving chill of the late-summer night in the northern American country was immensely appreciated. It shouldn't have bothered her at all to feel the cold, as Cybertronians were built to endure far worse. However, for reasons beyond her, she was trembling. Though, that perhaps could be from something other than the temperature.

A wave of vertigo slipped over her, and Fera immediately yanked her gaze away from the sky. Her icy optics focused instead on the ground, where things were stable and not free enough to cause insanity. She liked her peds on the Earth.

Humans traveled all around her through the shadows of the dim. They carried with them little more than the clothes on their bodies. Some held tightly to one another while they walked, as if afraid to be torn apart. Others fortunate enough to have them flung blankets over the females and kept in tight groups by the 'Bots. Soldiers, still carrying firearms, knives, and bruises, moved about the perimeter of their group to keep a protective lookout. All followed the striking sight of the shine from Autobot headlights. The sight was depressing. But this was all they were now.

No one had said a word since the sun had disappeared. If they were too busy trying to keep warm or banish their thoughts of the day, that was understandable. What wasn't was the silence that came with the expressions of torture on each and every set of faceplates or faces, meaning that their muteness wasn't from the cold or this day's events. Humans were not the only to appear beaten and battered. Cybertronians, whom they more than not saw as invincible titans of metal and blasters, were breaking at the seams. Fera saw it better than any: the way that Sideswipe remained distant in both verbal and physical gestures, or how Cloudsong had shed a few tears in moments where she certainly was recalling her lover Titanios or her mentor Ratchet, or how Optimus Prime looked to the stars one too many times, or the way Ironhide and Chromia remained glued at the hipbolt, or how Solas was holding her closer to his body than before and had refused to give her back her energon blade since her stunt back in the meadow.

All of them were missing somebody. Solas had his somebody beside him, however, Fera knew full well that it was the remain of his missing comrades that he worried for. The group they traveled with now was but a band of pitiful misfits. Three of which, had come back to life only hours before.

There was no way around getting to the fact that they were horribly lost, and horribly alone. With nowhere to go, it was easy for Fera's spark to drop into the pits of her tanks and stinging tears to come to her optics. Yet, through the lubricant, she withheld her aching thoughts and focused on the miracle that was their survival. There was no telling how many of them survived the base collapse, or the battle following. Fera knew that many of the humans didn't make it.

But Epps was here. And he'd assured her that he'd seen James Marks leaving, with Terra Shelby at his side. The colonel and surgeon were a few of Fera's closer friends that she remembered from her human life. When she had asked of Vanessa, Ratchet's human assistant, Epps had admitted that he was unaware of her state or condition.

A servo touched her spinal support and Fera's helm jerked up. It was Solas, and he was watching her with a mix of concern and solemnness. The fembot didn't want to see her Guardian in this state, as she'd much more need of a smile at this moment rather than a frown and a worried glance. What he could give her was so much better than this. Comfort at this point was telling her the truth in all its full, unbridled glory. Without twists. Without a soft cover. All she wanted was uncensored, hard, fact.

The mech she had traveled by for the past who knows how long directed her ahead into a break in the tree line. It revealed a minor pocket in the forest, where dusty boulders and ebony oaks stood alone in solitary breaches of the wild.

"What are we doing here?" she asked her Guardian, watching the forms around her file into the circle of grass and rock. Above them, a canopy of leaves hid them from outside forces. And tragically, the sight of the stars as well.

Solas patted her shoulderbolt, and brought her across the open space without a word of response. Fera's sights swiveled around her, landing on the forms of Cybertronians and humans alike settling around the exposed patch of green. Humans huddled together in small packs, lying on the naked ground without anything to soften their rest. Those with blankets took to their groups, sharing what they could of their fabric to cover as many as possible. Those that were unable to fit were left to lie with other stray humans in attempts of conserving heat.

Their Autobot allies sat in a large circle, always keeping nearby the groups of humans to offer their immense source of heat to comfort them however they could.

Optimus sat on a worn boulder to Fera's far right, his elbowjoints on his kneebolts and his servos pressing fists to his lip plates. His expression was unreadable. His optics settled on unseen images far into the distant nothing.

Ironhide made his place on the ground, pulling Chromia into his lap when she was beginning to settle. Despite his bold move, she did not give rebuke, and instead shifted into a position of comfort within his mighty grasp. Both wore masks of unsettling grimness. They did not look at any of their comrades, Cybertronian or other.

Cloudsong folded her legs gracefully beneath herself by a group of humans without blankets. Gently, she lifted a few from the earth, laying them with practiced softness in her lap. The twist on her usually kind faceplates was far from cheerful. But she kept a grin on to mask her struggle to keep her tears contained. Fera could see lubricant glistening on the edges of her optics.

Jazz took his place to Optimus' right, almost disappearing when he sat down behind his leader's wide width. Not a smart comment left him, which would have been a relief, if Fera wasn't vying for a single word to come from her Autobot allies. The way he sat there, faceplates aimed down, was unlike the Jazz she'd come to know this past day. Then again, this could be his normal for all she knew.

Fera found Solas by the way he tugged on her arm, bringing her off her peds to the ground. He was sitting with his legs crossed loosely enough that she plopped right into a welt in the middle of them that fixed her to the spot perfectly. With her features turned in a startled way, she was prepared to chastise the warrior that he was in no position to physically handle her like he did. But what stopped her was the chiseled concentration on his faceplates and the weight of his arms as they circled around her. Fera kept her words to herself and turned back around, relenting to lean into Solas' chassis and knit her digits with his.

When she turned her optics to the scene before her, she saw Epps walking to the center of their ring of melancholy. His arms were full of twigs and sticks. Behind him, Sideswipe held far bigger, thicker logs. The mech and man set it all in the middle of the space without much noise besides the rattling of the logs. When Sideswipe had dumped his load, he walked to the empty space next to Optimus and sat down with his spinal support turned to his comrades.

Epps squatted by the wood, his back rippling as he worked with something in his hands. "I need a flame," he announced after a few minutes of unsuccessful fiddling with twigs, brush, and rocks. The captain stood, hands on his hips, and looked around him. "Any takers?"

A groan split the silent air, stirring a few of the humans from slumber. It had been Ironhide, whose expression was largely annoyed. With a nod to Epps, the hulking mech lifted his arm, releasing an absolutely ridiculous black ion cannon from his bracer. "Move back," he grunted.

Epps wisely fell back, nearly tripping on his own feet to get away in time. A split second before Ironhide had shot at the logs, Optimus had perked up from whatever far-off lands his processor had traveled to, and lifted an open servo.

"Ironhide, wa-!"

The explosion that came next blinded Fera. A great burst of heat flew over her, and would have scorched her worse if Solas were not there to cover her. Tucked to his chassis, she was saved from the brunt of the blast. Her legs felt hot, but she knew it was no big ordeal. It wasn't until her optics had recovered from being assaulted by the enormous flash of light that she realized that her audios were ringing. They were deaf to the worlds, and gave but a crackling static for a good minute.

Solas pulled away and so did she, rubbing a servo against her frizzing audios to clear them up. Solas was speaking to her, probably asking if she was alright, and she nodded. She hoped to goodness he wasn't asking her anything else. Thankfully, he was satisfied, and he set his optics over her again to his peers. The tone of voices reached her, yet all she could make out was rumbling and the sight of Optimus on sitting straighter now, addressing Ironhide.

Slowly, but surely, Fera regained her hearing. They came online in the middle of the Prime and his comrade's conversation.

"-tial to our convergence that we shall not be seen by our adversaries," he scolded, his voice different than the passive gentleness Fera had grown used to hearing in his words. They were harsher now, more of a commander than she cared to see him as compared to a fatherly figure. "That was a brash motion on your account."

Ironhide was studying his cannon, his gaze ravaging every inch of it with a gleam of appreciation. "I'm not completely used to my frame yet Prime, allow me the least bit of repentance for a mistake," he said back in his gruff way. His gaze turned to the Prime as he returned his weapon to his bracer. "The humans need heat, and that is simply what I gave them."

"That was an ignorant move, 'Hide," Jazz called. "You're gonna get our afts beat."

Ironhide snorted at the warrior and laid his arm around his sparkmate. And speaking of which, Chromia appeared absolutely lost in their conversation. She was staining to make out the language used, and it was to Fera's shock that she realized the fembot hadn't the knowledge of the English language yet.

"It doesn't matter anymore, they have their fire," Fera stated in Cybertronian, catching Chromia's immediate attention. "Leave him be."

"Fera-" Ironhide began, getting cut off by his mate.

"I had the impression that you were a human transferred into a Cybertronian frame, is that correct?" Chromia questioned evenly, watching Fera with curiosity in her vibrant optics.

Fera nodded, turning her gaze to the flames that had already engulfed the entirety of the logs Sideswipe and Epps had brought. They were entrancing to stare at. "My spine was snapped while I was human some four quartexes ago," she explained, unable to look at any being, Cybertronian or human, in the eye or optic when speaking of her struggles. After a good two months of being free from the Nemesis and she still felt as though she'd just recently been freed.

"You speak our language fluently for your experience," Chromia commended.

Fera couldn't smile, though she wanted to. The part of her that was the happy Fera they all knew was locked away, deep, behind the binds Solus Prime held over her. The ancient fembot within Fera's processor was making her presence known constantly, however, it was never in a negative way. Merely, Fera understood the fembot better, and the way that she knew that giving Fera the truth she deserved was better than any soothing comfort any of her kind could give. Having a few memory spikes that were not her own was worth it to Fera if it meant being no longer the ignorant damsel-in-distress she'd been before. For the first time in a long time, she felt like herself.

"I was held in the Decepticon vessel, Nemesis," she murmured softly. Strength flowed through her from not Solus Prime's doing, but Solas Kaon. His servos were clasped over hers, giving her his physical assurance in place of the missing bond that plagued them. "While there they upgraded me…for Galvatron to…he tried…"

Why couldn't she get the words out? Solas knew of what Galvatron had tried to do. Why was it this hard to tell the others of the strife Galvatron had caused her when he'd tried forcing himself on her. The thoughts of bonding with that monstrosity were going to stick with her for the rest of her life. Yet, these dark masses rising on her chassis could be helped if she confided in her peers over what had happened. Tempting as it was to tell them, she simply couldn't.

"Nevertheless, Fera's upgrade was fitted with our language," Optimus cut in, relieving the fembot of her struggle to speak. "With her knowledge of English already embedded in her gridmap, she gained understanding of our verbal textures alongside her own."

"Does it matter? She can speak Cybertronian, so what? She's been through too much to be badgered," Solas input after his leader had finished. The Guardian held Fera slightly tighter to him as his voice became bitter. In the bind of his arms, she felt the irritation that made his chassis vibrate. She hadn't the ability to jump in and defend the fembot who had questioned her. It wasn't Chromia's fault for being curious. And it wasn't in Solas' right to be angry with her for it. Fera was well enough to defend herself if need be, and this wasn't a situation she felt she had to protect herself from.

Chromia's pointed look to Solas was sharp as a blade. Its fierceness made Fera want to duck into invisibility, but Solas didn't seem concerned in the least. As to why he felt it was necessary to upset a fembot fresh from death, was unclear. From her narrowed optics, to her tight lip plates, Chromia was not a figure Fera wanted to anger.

Epps coughed from his spot sitting not too far away from Fera. His legs were cross and his arms rested on his knees, and when he felt all optics on him, he gave an embarrassed grin.

"Sol, we brought you out of the trash, and we can throw you right back," Ironhide threatened firmly in support of his mate.

Chromia shook her helm, and clasped her servos on her lap. "Leave him alone 'Hide, he's right," she said, softer than her features appeared. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Her optics darted to Fera and the fembot stiffened.

It was easy to forgive the fembot when she had clearly done nothing wrong. It was merely Solas' temper and their tense situation that was getting to them. Having a bad attitude about it all was going to get them nowhere. What made it worse was that Fera was falling apart again. She felt wonderful when she recharged with Solas back at base, but, with a devastating stab to her spark, she knew that those days were over. They would be resting somewhere else from now on. If, that was, they made it to wherever they were trying to get to.

Their only option was the San Diego base. Or, if by some miracle, they could get transport, a building overseas. That was highly unlikely, which meant they were left scrounging for a place to hide away at until they could get all the 'Bots back together in one place.

Fera let her helm fall back onto Solas, where it laid on his shoulderbolt. In this position she could stare up into the canopy of treetops above, and at the right angle, the stars. A part of her wished she could escape there – to get away from the responsibilities she held on herself here. This war was weighing on her presence, breaking her resolve along with her mental stability.

Could what they be doing be running? Could the Autobots be doing the very thing she wished to do? They had the ability to run so far so fast, and yet, the only difference between Fera's wishes and the reality of their situation was that they couldn't escape everything. This war was happening, and they were separated, and they had no idea who was alive and who wasn't. Fera's optics shuttered closed when her mother's face came into her processor. Guilt ate away at her core for leaving the woman behind. How was she? Did Cameo find her?

Was she dead?

"What do we do now, almighty Prime?" Epps questioned from his position on the ground. Fera let a long vent escape her, finding that the man's voice managed to calm her somewhat. Her mother was a survivor. She would have found a way to make it out, especially if James and Terra were with her.

She lifted her helm, pointing her optics along with everyone else's toward Optimus. Even Chromia, who didn't understand English, passed her sights to her leader. The mech had his elbowjoints on his kneebolts, his servos hanging between them. His upper half was bowed forward, aiming his faceplates to the earth at his peds.

He looked tired. How could he not be? With the worry of his comrades on his processor it was impressive that he hadn't fallen already. Though, this was Optimus Prime she was considering. The mech had been through millions of years of war, and hundreds of battles that probably had shoved him into this same exact position. Even as much, seeing him worn down to a stump was depressing. Without his mate by his side, Optimus appeared incomplete. Fera wanted to comfort him, to ease his processor, as he had stood strong for everyone for so long.

His vents fluttered with a lengthy sigh, and he brought up his sad, sober optics to see the pitiful group he'd managed to peel away from the heat of battle. The silence that he exhibited was uncomfortable to say the least. Usually he had everything to say, to assure his comrades and his brothers and sisters in arms that things would turn out in their favor. Still, as he sat there, Fera had the increasing suspicion that this time, he didn't believe they could make it.

When he did speak again, it was by a version of himself that broke Fera's spark clear in two.

"Survive," he said. Simple, and still moving. It wasn't the death penalty for them straight out, and still, Fera couldn't help feeling as if she was counting down her last days off her digits. It wasn't an uplifting task in the least, to look around herself and imagine the faces and faceplates without life in them. She'd seen it before, and it wasn't something she wanted to see again.

If that wasn't the answer Epps wanted to get, he didn't show it. With a practiced manner, he kept his face straight and his limbs loose. Perhaps in being a soldier for years upon years, he'd learned to understand when panic was best left shoved deep into his mind. It was smart to keep the peace, but unhealthy.

Most the other humans were asleep. They surely hadn't heard a good chunk of the conversation exchanged between 'Bot and man, but the soldiers in company were all wide awake. Ironhide's explosion must have effected them the most, since they were already edgy. With rifles in their hands or on the ground beside them, they held their eyes on their captain for an interesting length. It was clear Epps had their trust. His judgment was as solid as Optimus' to the Autobots. The trouble was that no being here could quite gather their courage yet to believe in themselves.

Fera could feel herself slipping into recharge when the lulling feel of the fire's warmth, coupled in the pensive silence of the moment, covered her processor. In her memory files, she could find bliss, if but for a short while. There was no need to suffer this long.

"We have incoming comrades," Optimus informed everyone abruptly. Fera shot up, completely aware, as if she'd never drifted off. She saw the Prime standing, his frame facing the trees. His servo was open, motioning all to stay behind him in case that these comrades he claimed to be there were not comrades after all.

Solas shifted, almost throwing Fera off of him as he stood. He grabbed her arm as he'd risen, dragging her behind him protectively. Over his shoulderbolt, she could see the human soldiers, weapons already brandished, coming to their feet. Epps directed most to provide cover for the analysts and doctors scattered about. While they moved, Ironhide and Chromia came to a stand, shoulderbolt to shoulderbolt. They were equally as intimidating as they prepped their weapons with various clicks, whirs, and clangs.

Jazz and Sideswipe took to the sidelines, hiding within the trees to scan the surrounding area for possible enemies. For all they knew, this could be an ambush.

The wind blew by the still company of Autobots and humans, ruffling clothing and carrying away clouds of exhaust. A rustle from the leaves of the trees hissed through the night air. Fera could smell the distrust among her comrades as it wafted in enormous waves from each. Hydraulics coiled and joints stilled as each Autobot took their stand. The humans were brave to rise their own rifles, with the knowing what little damage they could do surely spinning in their brains. There was no doubt that if Epps called for it, this place would be their deathbed.

Then, a noise. Brief, but there. It struck through the still in keen ruthlessness. It was a shock for all to hear. A few of the sleeping humans rose, eyes still foggy with rest.

Before any of them could decide if the noise was just another from the life within the forest, a figure formed within the curtain of darkness the trees offered. They wore the onyx cape as a prideful dress, and it fitted them well. Gracefully, they seemed to float through the shadows toward the opening. Solas still had his arm barred across Fera's front, and she touched his servo nervously.

It seemed the only thing they had to fear when the silhouette came into the light of the fire was Optimus crushing them.

None other than Rethalia Prime emerged from the trees, sheathed in her obsidian paint and striking pink highlights. The fire caught in her color, sucking into a hungry vacuum of her optics. Whatever split second Fera had to see the fembot before her sparkmate snatched her into an embrace, she felt relief wash through her. Optimus' sparkmate was alright. That was the most important thing.

While Optimus reunited with his sparkmate, more shuffling disturbed the still. Cloudsong, who had been standing behind Chromia after the fembot had grabbed the apprentice to protect, moved from behind her shield and stepped into the open. A massive shape entered the area, cloaked in enough camouflage that Fera couldn't have made out his identity until he was fully in the light. By then, Cloudsong already had her arms flung around his middle.

Titanios lifted Cloudsong into his arms, holding her close and clear off the ground. His arms encircled her, hiding away her spinal support by the wall of his bracers. Their helms pressed together, and Cloudsong's body jolted slightly while she cried again.

Behind the behemoth mech, three other Autobots walked into attention. Bumblebee was first, with Arcee by his side, holding his servo. The yellow scout searched the crowd quickly, and when landing on Fera, he rushed forward. Solas respectfully moved aside when Fera leapt into action as well.

They collided in a flurry of arms and laughter, their hold on one another tight enough that Fera had trouble venting right. But she couldn't have cared. Her arms were around his neck, and his around her midsection, crushing one another together in a cluster of white and gold. Bumblebee was safe, save for a few scratches and dents here and there that didn't appear very serious. The fact that he was still venting made Fera want to cry. All that came out was choked chuckles, which bubbled from her in odd sounds of relief. Bumblebee swung her slowly from side to side, his head tipped beside her own.

"Thank Primus above you're alright," he murmured in her audio, moving his servos. Fera swallowed, her venting wobbly from the emotions running through her.

She pushed away from Bee, keeping at arm's length from him. Her brother was here, finally, safe and sound. "Are you both ok?" she asked, switching from Bumblebee to Arcee, who had stepped up next to her mech and set a servo on his spinal support. The pink fembot nodded, and gave Fera a tired smile.

"Though, we are not all whole and sound," Titanios mentioned. He was on one kneebolt, with Cloudsong standing before him, their servos linked together. His tone was somber and dark. It immediately brought a frown to Fera's faceplates.

When she returned her optics to Bumblebee, his own were averted. Arcee's too. Red Alert, who had come with Rethalia and the others, didn't give any motion that he wished to speak either. Rethalia was standing, vigilant for them all, with her optics darkening in a way that made Fera want to cover her audios. She didn't want to know.

"What's he talkin' about?" Jazz questioned. The smaller mech was walking in from the trees, and he turned his attention to his leaders, where Rethalia seemed to be the only between them with an inking of information. Rethalia broke her gaze and held Optimus' servo, keeping her optics low. As they stood there, the mech Prime's features went from confusion to absolute shock, then fell into a shade of stony grief. They were communicating through their bond.

Which, explained how Optimus knew Rethalia and the others had been coming. That, or Optimus had broken the rule he himself had set by using a comlink to contact his mate.

Fera's spark skipped a beat at the way Optimus' faceplates dropped. His optics shuttered and he moved away from the grip of his sparkmate. All watched in increasing, apprehensive anticipation, as their Prime turned his spinal support to his comrades.

Rethalia folded her arms over her chassis, and her lip plates tucked in. Fera wanted to know what it was keeping the fembot from speaking. And yet, if Optimus was reacting this strongly to the news, she was afraid she didn't need to know. Still, despite being ready or not, Rethalia came right out and said what needed to be said.

"Inferno is dead."

All life ceased in that moment. The very world they stood on froze in an icy tremor. The words that had come out of that fembot's lip plates replayed over and over and over in her processor until an ache pounded at the back of it. A sound, a wail she realized, came from the depths of someone's sorrow-torn throat. Denial plastered immediately on each expression who knew the late mech. When Fera moved her helm around to see where the cry had come from, she saw Red Alert with his servos on both sides of his helm, his optics squeezed shut, and his lip plates parted in horror.

Jazz stole himself quickly to the mech's side, placing his servos on Red's shoulderbolts. As another, strangled keel left Red Alert, the smaller silver mech led his comrade away into the seclusion of the trees.

"Inferno was a close friend of Red Alert's," Bumblebee murmured. "I…saw Thundercracker stab him from behind…" He paused. "He was gone before I could get to him." His frame was stanch, the way his limbs hung being straight and furious. His fists were clenched, and Arcee reached down to hold one of them in her servos.

Fera wanted to tell Bee that there was nothing he could have done to prevent what happened. She wanted to tell him everything was alright and that Firestar was going to get through losing her sparkmate and survive. But she was so stuck in her own state of senseless consternation that she couldn't think straight and come up with the right words.

As a fembot, Firestar was rare and beyond precious. To lose her will be a startling blow to not only the Autobots, but to Cybertronians in total. This had to be why the fembots here were reacting so violently. Fera had seen Chromia fall into Ironhide's arms, her expression wide in disbelief. Without her mate there, she would have surely fell to the ground. Ironhide didn't act surprised at all by her expression, and lifted his sparkmate to her peds. He turned her around and enveloped her limp body in his arms, swinging slightly from side to side and whispering in Cybertronian into her audio.

Rethalia's faceplates fell, her regal features losing their grip on formality and struggling to hold back the pure despondence she must be feeling. "Ratchet is with Firestar and is trying to make her as comfortable as possible. But…" she stopped, helm turning away. Optimus lifted a servo, placing it on his sparkmate's shoulderbolt in support.

"She's dying," Fera whispered to herself, voice too weak to grow any louder.

When a sparkmate died, their other half was subjected to the same fate as well. Fera was already aware of that piece of information. However, just how long it took for that end to come to the partner of the perished being, she was uncertain. Envisioning the agony the fembot must be going through, as half her spark slowly died off, made Fera tremble. Solas was there to touch her arm, but Fera did not look at him. Her spark was reaching out for Firestar, wherever the fembot may be.

Epps and the other humans that were awake felt the shift in emotion and remained speechless. One by one they relaxed back into their original positions, keeping their heads bowed in shared sadness for a fallen fighter.

"What of the others?" Sideswipe inquired gingerly from his spot on the edge of the crowd. "Did Sunstreaker come with you? Did you see which direction he went?"

Rethalia shook her helm, and the silver mech dropped back into the shadows with a disappointed frown.

"We cannot grieve for our comrades – we do not have the privilege to," Titanios commented, rubbing circles across Cloudsong's spinal support as she silently wept into his chassis. "We must move on and find a stratagem if we are to make a true mark in this war."

"That is easy for you to say, you fragging vexpa," Ironhide barked angrily back, his sparkmate still unresponsive in his grasp. "Decepticons may not feel anything when one of their own deadspark, but here, we care."

Titanios stood, his features hard. "Don't you dare say that to me," he rumbled back dangerously. "I am a being with a spark, not a drone whom doesn't possess emotion. I've lost and I've grieved, just as you have."

Ironhide stepped away from Chromia, leaving her standing with her arms wrapped around her middle. "Really? Did your kind 'feel' when they murdered thousands of sparklings and fembots in the Dark Hunt? Did your kind 'feel' when they murdered my friends? Did your kind 'feel' when they shot me from behind with a fragging cosmic rust cannon?"

"The Dark hunt was thousands of decacycles ago!" Titanios claimed hotly, lifting a digit and stabbing it in Ironhide's direction. "How may you compare my entire former faction to the actions of those that weren't even under Megatron's command? Or to persuading one of your Autobots to betray your ranks and shoot you?"

Ironhide growled, his plates rising from his frame. His servos balled up and his optics flashed in rage. "I'll tear you apart, you filthy excuse for scrap."

"Both of you, stand down immediately!" Rethalia commanded, her voice stern. Both the enormous mechs that had been sizing one another up stayed in their place, neither backing down nor charging. Rethalia stepped up, her features harsh. "What will fighting do? It cannot bring Inferno back. And certainly neither will blaming your peers." She said this for Ironhide, and sent him a warning glare. "Or turning against each other." She looked at Titanios.

"She is right, we must remain as one if we are to even consider having a chance against whatever that thing was back there," Bee agreed as he placed an arm around Arcee's shoulderbolts. Fera hadn't the chance to notice the fembot's reaction yet. When she did, she found the strong warrior stricken and fighting tears.

"I'll tell ya, this was a great time ta bring us back ta life," Jazz joked dryly as he appeared from the forest again. Red Alert was not with him, but Fera could still make out the occasional sound or noise of distress from the greenery. She watched Jazz move from trees to the fire, where he then stood with his arms crossed and his armor gleaming.

Fera touched the Stone of Primus at her collar, and the Galvanizer hummed lowly against her spinal support. It could sense the presence of its creator in Fera, and it reacted quite excitedly whenever Solus made her essence known inside the fembot's processor. The ancient Prime was giving Fera her comfort, though, wisely enough, not too much to make Fera rear away. The Prime was close enough in personality to know when to back off. And the host she stayed in appreciated that.

"I didn't mean for any of this to happen," Fera told everyone softly. She wasn't sure if they had heard her, but a few helms lifted in her direction to prove her wrong. What had happened had totally, one-hundred percent, been her fault. If she hadn't revived Ironhide, Jazz, and Chromia, the Decepticons wouldn't have found the base and destroyed it. Inferno would still be alive, and Firestar wouldn't be slowly dying. Then again, if she hadn't revived Jazz, Ironhide, and Chromia, the three warriors wouldn't be here.

Chromia split from Ironhide's side and walked right up to Fera. In a quick movement, she was pulled into the dusky fembot's arm, pinning her body to the strong one of the warrior's. "Of course you didn't," she murmured, voice full of emotion. Surely, for Firestar's inevitable fate. "This is not your fault – none of it is. Don't you dare think for an astrosecond that it is."

Fera couldn't hug the fembot back, for she didn't feel she was able to. The shock was overwhelming her senses, sending her into a shivering, numb box. None of the Autobots would blame her for this incident. That was how they were. They would keep their sour thoughts to themselves and take the blame as a whole unit. It was frustrating for Fera, as she wished to take the responsibility she knew she deserved. At the same time, knowing that she wasn't going to have it all dumped on her made her relieved.

"Are there any word from the other survivors?" Titanios questioned, his deep voice barreling through the thin of their silence. Fera wanted to know the same. How was her mother? Who was she with? Where was she?

The crackling of the fire became the answer for him until someone could find the bravery to speak, and the rest of the gathered fell into an uneasy quiet. Frames lingered for the answers they wanted to hear – for the wise and inspiring speech made by one of their Primes. Nothing came, and all were disappointed.

Optimus turned back around, standing shoulderbolt to shoulderbolt with his sparkmate. Fera could see him over Chromia's shoulderbolt, and the way his faceplates looked way too hard to be the Prime she knew. This version of him – this helpless being whom was demoted from all-knowing, to mortal, wasn't something she was used to.

The mech reached up over his shoulderbolts, his arms grabbing for his spinal support. With the muted whirling of metallic parts, the Prime brought up an indigo bundle. He held the youngling in his arms then, before handing her off to her fembot creator. Liora stirred when she was passed on, but when her bright optics cracked open, revealing the profile of her creator behind, Fera saw the small one curl up against Rethalia's chassis and return to recharge.

Optimus set a gentle servo on Liora's helm, dwarfing the youngling immediately. "It is too dangerous to attempt a comlink with our comrades from this distance," he explained evenly, watching his creation with the expression of a concerned father. Fera wished she remembered if her human father had ever looked at her like that. "As for our San Diego base, I would require a communications hub to achieve transmission."

"So we are literally screwed at this point," Epps piped in, slinging an arm over his inclined knee. His other hand planted beside him, his head tipped back to see Optimus' faceplates.

As Chromia finally released Fera, the fembot lifted her servos, grabbing her bracers. Their optics met, and in that connection, Fera pled that she not leave, if only for a moment. The warrior grinned softly and pulled Fera close again, wrapping an arm around her from behind and holding her servo with her free one.

Sol stepped up from behind the fembots, his digits knitting through the servo Chromia wasn't holding. "Why can you not reach your peers, Captain?" he inquired. Fera repeated everything in Cybertronian for Chromia so the fembot could keep up with the conversation.

Epps's free hand hit the grass, sending a few clods of grass and earth flying. "All our tech is…was in the base," he said, grabbing a fistful of dirt in his dark hand. "We've got no way to reach them unless we get to a phone."

"That's not an' option," Jazz stated. "The 'Cons are watchin' us, and sendin' out any com will get us found."

"Jazz is right, we have to go at this another way," Bumblebee agreed.

Jazz looked to the mech, quiet for a few seconds, and his optic ridges came down. "Ya talk now?" he questioned, puzzled. "An' when did these new 'Bots get here?" He turned his faceplates to his leaders. "How long were we out for, Prime?"

Optimus shook his helm, and took his servo away from Liora's helm. "Jazz, I would rather have this discussion at a later time. Right now does not seem the most appropriate to add onto the dramatics of our situation."

Jazz snorted and whipped around, stalking back into the trees to probably find Red Alert. All optics and eyes followed him, but soon enough turned to Optimus and Rethalia. It was instinct, Fera assumed, that these humans and Autobots, would confide in their mighty leaders for what to do. Chromia's grip on her arm had tightened, betraying the anxiety within her.

Fera couldn't imagine this world being her grave. It felt as though nothing was real – as if the next day wasn't going to come. Things moved too slowly to possibly come into the next morning. The fembot's spark pounded within her, singing with denial that it would stop beating. Whenever, and if ever, she fought Galvatron again, she was going to make well sure that it wouldn't be his faceplates that were the last thing she saw in this life.

She pressed her oral sheets together, feeling the gears grind in her mandible and tasting sparks on her glossa. Solas squeezed her digits, and she gripped them back, a small smile finding its way to her lip plates.

"Whatever dramatics have come over us, Optimus, I'm sure we haven't got anything else to add to it," Solas said.

Chromia reached over from behind Fera and slapped the back of Solas' helm. Surprised faceplates openly stared at the fembot when she did this. Solas' helm ducked, a short cry ringing after the sharp crack of metal on metal.

"What the frag!" he exclaimed, holding the back of his cranial unit. "You can't even understand what I'm saying!"

"Fera tells me everything, you disrespectful slagger," Chromia snapped, rubbing the fembot-in-mention's arm. "I thought Ironhide had beaten the smart-aft out of you vorns ago." Her optics narrowed, their sight a dangerous shade of azure. Fera felt safe beside the fembot, but she was happy she wasn't in Solas' position.

Then the warrior shifted her sights to Optimus, their merciless sheen far different than the devastated fog from before. "We have no idea where our comrades are at, and we are taking an indescribable risk by traveling this length of land mass in a group this large. We need to send one 'Bot to this San Diego base you all keep mentioning and warn the others there. We can meet with our comrades after."

"That would work, if…"

"If what?"

Rethalia cut in for her mate, "If we were able to stay here long enough to wait for reinforcements, or whomever we sent to return to us. We simply do not have the time."

Ironhide stepped up, standing by the fire and jabbing at the red-hot logs with his cannon. "We have to contact our comrades, everyone is vulnerable being spread out like this."

"It was the only way we could have gotten away alive," Titanios jabbed back, sitting on the ground with a recharging Cloudsong in his arms.

Ironhide chuckled, but did not turn around. He stopped poking at the logs and squatted down. The flames sent ghostly crimson and gold tendrils over his straight-black paint. "Well now it's gonna get us killed."

"Valid points, both of you," Optimus interrupted before the mechs could get into another yelling match. "I believe the best chance for our survival…" he paused, his lip plates pressing into a frown, "is to contact our comrades." His helm bowed and his servos clenched. Fera's chassis tightened, making it difficult to vent. When no one spoke up, perhaps afraid to speak out against this reckless idea, Optimus went on.

"We have but one opportunity to do this. If we fail to gather the others before Galvatron finds us again…" His sights landed on Fera, and she pressed a servo to the Stone on her collar. "All will be lost."

A servo grabbed Fera's arm without warning and she turned from Optimus to helm to see her Guardian. "Quite the pep talk, Prime," Solas sighed, loud enough for only her to hear. The fembot was taken from Chromia's side and pulled into the darkness of the forest. She stumbled along behind, not quite understanding what Sol was doing, but unwilling to question it. A few yards further, Solas sat down and pulled Fera into his lap. With his arms circling around her again, Fera couldn't help becoming a bit confused. His helm was closer to hers than before, and his arms were wrapped tighter around her. In this position, she couldn't see his expression.

"Solas-?"

"Shush," he cut in softly. "Let's just…sit here for a while. Please."

Fera fell quiet then, her glossa unwilling to say anything. She complied to Solas' embrace, sinking further into him and lifting her upper arms to lay against his bracers, which crossed like a living shield across her chassis. She kissed the top of them, and began to hum.

"I'm not going anywhere Solas, I promise," she murmured when she'd regained her ability to speak again. "It's ok to be scared…it's ok…" She felt hot, slick lubricant running along her neck, and her spark wrenched. Solas' tears felt so warm.

She held his helm against her neck, closing her optics.

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

Where has the lamb gone? Over the moon, over the moon…"

"...Ratchet! Ratchet, for Primus sake, get over here!"

The medic jolted online, his systems revving with being brought to the world of the living so abruptly. A misty sheen was over his optics, but when he rubbed at them and shuttered them a few times, they cleared. It allowed him to see his surroundings better, and that was disappointing.

His group, consisting of Ultra Magnus; the Fabials Cameo, Betta, and Galax; Stratis, Smokescreen, Rainwing, Sunstreaker, Firestar, and the various humans that included Sarah Lennox, was scattered wherever they'd decided to recharge. Their place of rest had turned out to be an abandoned warehouse in a city a few states from the destroyed base. Upon finding it, the group had quickly took refuge inside. It was an older thing, with rafters that were rusted enough to sprinkle flakes of brown whenever anyone touched the walls, or stepped too hard on the ground.

Now the previously unconscious beings were all wide aware, searching for the source of the yelling. When Ratchet got to his peds, he found Rainwing by a collection of boxes, kneeling on the ground with her servos on Firestar's shoulderbolt. The crimson fembot's spinal support was turned to the room, so Ratchet couldn't see her faceplates. But, all he needed was to see Rainwing's petrified ones, and he got all the information he needed.

With panic in his spark, the medic rushed to Rainwing, dropping to his kneebolts the instant he was near Firestar. "She's not coming online," Rainwing said in concern.

Ratchet waved the fembot off. "Move, give me room!" he commanded, reaching for the red fembot.

Rainwing stood, stumbling backwards. Her optics were wide and her servos were held to her chassis. Her navy and white paint shivered as she trembled. The wings of her alt mode wavered on her spinal support until Smokescreen stepped up and placed his servos on her shoulderbolts.

Ratchet had Firestar on her spinal support now, his servos hovering. Despite being moved, Firestar's optics did not light, nor open at all. When the medic held a servo over her vents, he felt no movement of air coming in or out. A single scan, and it was enough for him to know that Firestar was indeed going through a stopped spark.

Training from vorns of war kicked in and the mech immediately went to work. Lifting his arms, Ratchet brought out two electric prongs from subspace, reforming his servos to reveal the crackling tools. He then planted his toelinks into the concrete floor and prepared his shock systems.

"Everyone stand back!" he called over his shoulderbolt. In a swift jerk, Ratchet plunged the rods into Firestar's chassis. "Clear!"

The red frame arched toward the sky, bending so far that her spinal support could have snapped. When she fell back to the floor, Ratchet held his arms up and scanned her. Nothing.

Growling, Ratchet waved the prongs to get the electricity flowing back again and jammed them back against Firestar's frame. It leapt as it had before, and dropped without a response. Just like before. Not a sign of life came from the scans he passed over her, nor the manual check he used when he laid his audio against her chassis and listened for a beat.

Twice more he stabbed the prongs into her, and twice more he got the same results. While the burn of stares bit into his spinal support, Ratchet scanned Firestar's spark again. Nothing came up, and the mech snarled in frustration.

She still laid there, motionless, with her optics dark and her limbs lifeless. Not so long ago, the fembot was bright and cheery, with a smile that could have turned any horrible kalon into a good one. With her lying here, her spark giving out from the loss of her sparkmate, Ratchet felt as though he were losing a nannia. He refused to allow another one of his own to deadspark. Not after losing so many so recently.

"Fraggit Firestar," he huffed, prepping the prongs for another charge. "Fight!"

Servos suddenly touched Ratchet's shoulderbolts and his helm snapped up. He found Ultra Magnus standing there, with his sparkmate Cameo at his side. Their gazes were equally as grave, and it struck Ratchet to his very gridmap. His servos began to shake and his vents ceased their cycling.

"Ratchet, she's gone," Magnus murmured. Cameo looked away, and stepped from her mate's side to stand with the members of her Fabial team that had fled the battlefield with her.

Ratchet's helm shook from side to side, slowly, numbly. His optics found Ultra Magnus again. "No," he stated firmly, ripping back around. He jerked Magnus' servos off of his shoulderbolts and raised the prongs. "And I thought I told you to stay back."

Magnus remained there for a good nanoclick. Until his steps took him a few paces back, Ratchet stayed frozen. When the hulking city commander was out of range, the CMO stuck the prongs back into Firestar's chassis. Her frame rose, then fell, as it had over and over. Everything went still, from Ratchet's servos, to the air everyone consumed. All waited for the impossible, but expected the worst.

Then, a light.

It was faint at first – to the point where Ratchet was afraid he was seeing things. But when he returned the prongs to subspace and scanned the fembot, he found a weak pulse in her spark. Her optics were flickering between darkness and light, their glow desperate to come fully online. There was a mugginess that Ratchet could only place as pain over them, and they turned into tears. Her optic slips slid wider, letting her see the ceiling of the warehouse. Those fuzzy optics found Ratchet and filled with lubricant. Fat droplets slid down either side of Firestar's faceplates, pooling beneath her helm.

As Firestar lifted her arms, pressing her servos to her optics, Ratchet fell onto his aft. His vents were working overtime to bring him down from his stressful high, and his spark was pounding at an incredible speed. Which, was a lot to say compared to how Firestar had been a few nanoclicks ago.

Rainwing dropped back by Firestar's side, grabbing the fembot and sitting her up. They hugged one another as a sob escaped Firestar's tortured faceplates. Ratchet let them have their moment, and moved himself back a few feet to give them room. His kneebolts inclined, his elbowjoints resting on them. His servos rested on his helm while he watched Rainwing attempt comforting the fembot in her arms. Words, morphed with emotion, left Rainwing, and Ratchet had trouble at first making them out.

When he did, he felt his spark plummet. It wasn't what he wanted to hear. He would have believed Firestar to be glad being given the chance of living just a little while longer. Yet, he knew better, and suffered through the guilt of saving a 'Bot that didn't want to be saved. He knew the agony she was enduring, and he truthfully admitted to himself that if he were in her position, he would be no less broken. Rainwing found Ratchet from over Firestar's shoulderbolt, and gave him a discouraged look.

"I wanted to die," were Firestar's first words back from the verge of death.

Well that went well.

I was really debating whether this was a good chapter or not, as it might be a little more raw than people would like.

But in the end, I felt it was necessary to truly show all of you the damage done.

There's always casualties in war :(

Let's hope for a brighter chapter, shall we?

Can't wait to hear what you all think, and see you next week! :D

*Chapter Inspiration: The Lonely= Christina Perri*