GUEST: Sam WILL appear by this story's end. Undecided on Simmons though. :)
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CHAPTER 46
Devastation
Mark seated himself down on Hound's hood in the middle of the group of cars early in the morning a week later. He didn't know why Optimus had called the meeting, all he knew was that he had wanted him there. Once Optimus had arrived however, he stood to his feet so that his foster father and the other Autobots could easily transform. "Everything alright, Prime?" Crosshairs questioned, his optics traveling up to his leader. "Don't tell me it's another long mission. After all the chaos, I don't think this is the best time."
Optimus shook his head, and then looked over his Autobots slowly. There was a silence as they all waited, one that Mark noticed rather easily. It nearly stunned him that even Crosshairs, who usually never could keep his mouth shut even stayed silent. "There has been a... Situation," Mark didn't like how Optimus looked at him after that. "Mark, please understand I only tell you this so you do not hear it from anyone else," He blinked a bit. "The Decepticons led an air strike late last night on the neighborhood of DC that you once occupied."
Mark might have fallen over in shock if Hound hadn't held out his hand to catch him. They had attacked his former home? He had friends in that neighborhood, there were a lot of families in that neighborhood. Innocent lives, people who had nothing to do with the war, and who may not have even known him. "W-What?" Mark finally breathed out. "They, how? Why? Didn't you guys try to stop them? Couldn't we have done anything?"
Hound had dreaded giving this bit of information to Mark. He'd been told when it happened, and he knew Mark wasn't going to take it well. He had mentioned the ties he had to his friends there, they had even been in contact all the time. "I'm sorry son," Hound tried to tell him gently. "It was a massacre, and it happened too fast for us to do anything," His engines revved slightly. "They wanted to send a message, and nothing was going to stop them. I think a few families made it out, one of them was that of a friend of yours that you've mentioned. Melissa, I believe her name was? But otherwise..."
Mark felt tears sting his eyes, he couldn't believe this had happened. Why would they attack so many unarmed people? He didn't live there anymore, they knew he didn't live there anymore. "I can't believe it," Mark finally spoke again, his voice low and filled with disgust. "Why would they do something like that? If they want to send a message, why not come after me again? Those were innocent people, those were families!" His voice raised louder with each passing moment.
Hound took a few steps forward. "Mark, they've done this before, many times," Hound shook his head. "They saw an advantage to hurt us, and you," He shuttered his optics, and cocked his head to the side. "I'm so sorry you had to find this out. But there was no way around it," He explained, the boy seemed to just be silent. "Prime, you might want to get on with the point."
"Indeed," Optimus shifted a little. "Considering our charge's ties to this neighborhood... Myself, a few of you, and members of NEST will be going to help with the effort. Recovering what we can, helping to locate undiscovered bodies." Mark looked up at Optimus as he said that. "And any survivors in the rubble that may have been missed as well," He then added. "I will need volunteers-."
"I'll go," Sideswipe threw a hand up. "Don't need to ask me twice. Any friend of Mark's is a friend of mine, I'll be happy to help."
"You know I'm in," Crosshairs raised his hand slightly, stepping forward. "Bloody Decepticons think they can pull a stunt like this," He growled low, in a manner that almost scared the heck out of Mark.
Of all, most of the Autobots, aside from Hound and Mirage, agreed to go. After a moment, Mark stepped forward himself, and raised his hand. "I'll go," He stated, trying to keep his calm, but swallowing hard. "These are my friends you're talking about. People I grew up living next to, people I care about," He explained, trying not to choke up. "I want to see who's okay and who's-."
"I advise you to stay behind, Mark," Optimus replied calmly. "If you appear at the scene, we cannot guarantee the Decepticons will not strike again," Mark's eyes fell to the floor in defeat, knowing the mech was right. "And more importantly, this is surely a shock to your systems. You were not prepared for this news, nor do we expect you to be," He explained. "You need time to recover from this new information."
"But Optimus, I-."
"Mark," Mark turned to look at Hound, his eyes shifting up to him. "Listen to Prime, let them do what they must. I can already tell that if you went there and saw its destruction," Hound's optics dimmed a little. "It would devastate you. It's a traumatizing thing to see the destruction of one's childhood home. Believe me, son, I know." He explained, his voice gentle, yet firm. "Please, trust our judgement."
Mark wanted to argue, wanted to scream. He wanted desperately to find out what happened, to be able to mourn his friends. He wanted to be able to hug his friend Melissa and cry together. But he knew it wouldn't happen, they were right, it was too dangerous. And he probably was far from mentally prepared to handle the sight. "Alright," He finally relented, his eyes traveling up to Optimus. "I just want to know, I have to know who's still alive. Please, Optimus."
Optimus nodded his head in understanding a sad smile on his face. "That much I can give you," Optimus replied, trying to bring at least some comfort to the child. "Autobots, let's roll out, our transport leaves in fifteen minutes." He explained, motioning the others forward as he looked up at Hound. "Hold down the base while I'm out, Hound."
"You got it," Hound watched them leave before turning to glance down at Mark. "It'll be alright, kiddo. There's bound to at least be one or two more survivors."
The boy never replied, he only stared off into space, worry in his eyes.
...
That night, Hound heard Mark break down and cry for the first time. The Autobots had only found a few survivors, a few that Mark knew, and a few he didn't. Yet Hound could tell that Mark's heart, none-the-less, still broke for all of them. He knew what Mark was going through: the guilt, the anger, the frustration. Why couldn't he have been there? Why had they wanted to attack that place? Why all those innocent lives? All were questions that he could only guess ran through the fourteen year olds head. "Mark," He said quietly as he knocked on the boy's door. "Can I come in?"
"I don't want you to see me like this," Mark sniffled quietly. "This is why I didn't want you at the theater much either. I'm an ugly crier; I'm a MESS." Hound frowned, his optics softening a little bit. "Please, dad, just go outside and talk to the others. I know there's a meeting, I don't want to keep you."
At that, Hound carefully pushed open the door. Mark was on his bed, holding his pillow in his arms, his eyes red and puffy from fresh and old tears. He looked up at Hound, rubbing his eyes. The mech took a few steps forward, his optics twisting. "Mark, you're my son," Hound told him gently. "I don't care about a meeting right now. I care that you're okay; everybody cares." He then added. "We could hear your sobbing in the main room."
"Great," Mark groaned. "Everyone thinks I'm a wimp."
"No one does," Hound told him quietly. "This is simply the first time you have truly broken down. Even when you woke up from nightmares, you seemed to keep it together," He seated himself on the ground beside the bed, and gently stroked his side. "I wish there was something I could have done, anything I could have done. You did not need this news, nor the repercussions of it."
To his surprise, tears began to stream down Mark's face again. He leaned into Hound's hand, basking in his foster father's touch. The mech wished he could really "cry" in this form so that he could cry with him. But he knew that Mark didn't need him doing that, he needed his father, he needed to know it was alright. "I just... After everything that was happening with my dad, I didn't see it coming." He shook his head. "I thought I was going to stop losing people, that everything was going to be okay. But I couldn't take it anymore, it pushed me, Hound. It hurts."
Hound wrapped a finger gently around the boy's torso. So that was what caused it to hit him so hard, it was all his stress at once. About his loss, about his second loss in the past few months, about everything. It was a harsh reminder of one fact: Mark may have acted mature and calm for his age. But in reality, he was still a child, barely in his teenage years, who'd lost much to this war. "I know, son," Hound told him gingerly. "You can cry as long as you want, and as hard. Yell at me if ye have to," Mark buried his head deeper into the mech's metal hand. "I'm right here, I've got you."
And Mark did cry, and cry, without words exiting his mouth for a while. Hound hated to see his son like this, but he also knew he needed someone there. A gentle reminder that he didn't lose everything, and still had him. And most of all, he still had his family of Autobots, as unusual as it may have been. Finally, the sobs slowly choked down to a little whimper, and he finally laid against him. At first, he thought that Mark may have cried himself to sleep, but slowly, he raised his head to look up at Hound. "You probably missed the meeting," He muttered.
"I commed Colonel Lennox," Hound told him with a smile. "He understood that this was far more important than any meeting. After all, you are my son, my only child..." He paused a moment, sad to think, yet again, that Coldsteel wasn't there. "It is most important that I see to it that you are okay, and rested," He told him as Mark nodded his head, gently rubbing away some residue of the boy's tears. "It'll be alright, you know that, don't you?"
Mark nodded his head, and chewed his lip quietly. "I hope so, dad," Mark finally managed. "But I hate the 'Cons, I hate every last one of 'em." He finally managed to explain. "Is it bad that I want them all dead? Every last one of them?"
"Never wish death upon anyone," Hound commented quietly. "Think of Drift, Mark. Not all Decepticons are like this, though the majority are." Mark frowned, knowing that Hound had a very good point. "Hate those that did this, Mark. If there is one thing I have learned, it is not to hate them all. Only those that do the worst of actions," He then added. "And this most certainly applies to that principal."
"Are you gonna leave me now?" Mark asked quietly.
Hound's first response was to cup Mark in his hand, and gently lift him to his chestplate. The boy laid his head against it, and allowed Hound to hold him. Taking in the comfort as he heard the gentle hum of his spark. "I'm not going anywhere, Mark," Hound told him in the softest of whispers. "Not until you tell me you want me to, at least."
And for Hound, that could be an eternity for all he cared.
...
Galvatron smiled wickedly as he overlooked the small suburb in Washington, DC. He relished in the destruction, the death, the fear in the eyes of those that survived. IF this wasn't a blow to the Autobots, he didn't know what would be. No doubt, it would crush their pet, and therefore, the spirit of the Autobots themselves, in some ways. "You have done well," Megatron turned to Coulton, who stood off to the side. "Coulton." He stated, finally allowing himself to use the name he chose, now that he had done him some good.
Coulton smiled, his eyes flashing red and a malicious grin spreading. "With the technology I swiped from their base, we can do even worse." Coulton explained, chuckling a little. "This was just the warning shot, if you ask me." He explained. "Now that I'm currently off of the team, I can work even further undercover. Until I get myself placed back within when the time is right."
"Excellent," Galvatron replied. "And I am to understand that Knock Out used the mouth clamp to put the tracking device in the boys... Molar?" Coulton nodded once more, the mech cackled wickedly. "Those fools have no idea the hell they have unleashed." He commented gleefully.
"Shall we take the boy and base now?" Coulton asked.
"Not yet," Galvatron replied, his grin widening. "Let's give them false hope, I want them to feel it. Just before I rip all of it right from under Prime's nose." He explained, turning to leave the area slowly.
As Galavatron transformed into his truck form, and popped open his driver's seat door, Coulton grinned. He couldn't wait to see the Autobots crushed, to see all hope drain from their optics. This time, they would be victorious, of this, he was absolutely certain.
...
A/N: Evil, I know. But it was time the Decepticons made a serious strike, and it gave me a chance to have Mark just finally let it all out. It was about time for that too.
