Chapter 11
An Adjustment of Plans
Hot Rod had more potential than most, Prowl thought, but sometimes he wanted to dismantle the kid bolt by bolt out of pure frustration. This was one of those times.
"... but he attacked me!"
"I don't care." Prowl ran a hand over his face. He was bone tired, he hurt from head to toe, and there were any number of things he'd rather be doing than dealing with a disciplinary issue. "You rather thoroughly provoked him."
"By what, teasing the kid? I'm not sure Soundwave's got enough firing neural circuits left to understand teasing!" Hot Rod protested.
"Clearly, he does. Also, it's bullying, not teasing, when the subject gets as upset as Frenzy was. He is a prisoner, but that does not give you the right to maltreat him." Prowl folded his arms across his bumper. "And that kid is older than you are."
Hot Rod's mouth twisted into a sharp frown. "I don't understand, Prowl. They're Decepticons. What the frag is Optimus doing?"
"Living his dream. Which, I note, is why we follow him." Prowl himself had misgivings, but at least he did understand why Optimus was reaching a hand of friendship out to Frenzy. It seemed to be working, too. He'd seen a glow of honest pleasure in Frenzy's optics, earlier, when Optimus had asked him if he would help with repairs, and had stressed how much Frenzy was needed.
Hot Rod sighed, folded his arms, and glanced towards Prowl's office door. Prowl made a mental note to talk to Hot Rod about the information he gave away with his body language, at some other time - as aggravating as the kid was, all of the Ark's officers agreed that Hot Rod had real potentia to be a good officer someday. He was just so green sometimes. The young mech complained, "The 'cons ripped us to shreds, Prowl."
A change in subject, Prowl noted. Hot Rod clearly wasn't happy with the presence of the (former, he reminded himself) Decepticons on the base - and he wasn't the only one. Prowl refused to let Hot Rod sidetrack him with his observation on the battle. "Be that as it may - You will assist Frenzy with his assigned work, in addition to your own duties, from the time that we resume a normal work schedule and for three days following that. You will treat him with respect and consideration during that entire time. I believe that Ratchet intends to make use of him in the med bay, so you may be assisting Ratchet. You will converse with him. You will make a real effort to get to know him not as an enemy, but as another mech who is quite close in age to yourself."
Hot Rod growled, "You can't be serious."
"I am completely serious."
"Dude, you just made make friends with the Decepticon a punishment. Sir."
Prowl lifted an optic ridge. "Assisting Frenzy with his work is the punishment. Befriending him is an opportunity."
"You've been drinking Prime's Kool Aid." Hot Rod sighed, saying this without rancor. "Okay, fine. I get it. Make nice with the midget Decepticon and he might become an Autobot someday. Fine. I'll play. I'll give it an honest effort …"
Very quietly, Prowl said, "Do you not believe in our cause? In our dreams?"
Hot Rod froze, and stared at Prowl with stricken optics. Prowl had scored, and he didn't regret it. Finally, Hot Rod admitted, "Yeah. I guess I do."
"Then do not forget our way."
"You sound like Prime."
"I follow Prime for a reason that has far less to do with logic than most would believe, Hot Rod." Prowl sighed, feeling suddenly very old. It had been a terrible battle, with one dead on their side and half a dozen 'cons downed. It had been stupid, with the 'cons launching an all-out assault for no reason that made logical sense - unless he factored in the high likelihood that Megatron was simply behaving illogically, and could be expected to continue to do so.
When Hot Rod had nothing to say to that, Prowl added, "We fight until all are one again. Becoming one begins with us. It begins with small gestures, and living that goal."
Hot Rod frowned. "Okay, sir, I get it."
This time, it sounded like he did.
"Get yourself to the med bay," Prowl said, not unkindly. "You're a priority for repairs. That leg needs some more work before I'd want to send you into combat again."
Hot Rod glanced down at the limb, which was still missing a plate of armor. "Wheeljack welded my strut together with a patch he made from a human car's hood. Wrapped it around the strut and tacked it on. I don't think I'd been down more than two minutes before he was there and working on me."
Prowl sighed. Hot Rod sounded impressed, and was probably happy that he'd been able to return to the fight. Prowl knew the sheer desperation behind that field repair - the 'cons had been tearing them to shreds and he'd ordered Wheeljack to get Hot Rod back in action over tending Optimus, who had been down for the count. At that time, he had not been sure how badly Optimus had been hurt, but he'd needed every gun he had to repel an attempt by the 'cons to breach the Ark's entrance. It had been clear that Optimus could not be quickly returned to combat with a jury-rigged repair.
Ratchet hadn't even objected to that order. Ratchet, ever the pragmatist, had known damn well that if they lost the fight, all of them could die. Sending a mech with a somewhat dubious temporary repair back into combat had been the lesser of many evils this day.
Prowl wondered if Cliffjumper would still be alive if he hadn't ordered Skyfire to return to the med bay for his own repairs. He'd calculated that Skyfire's compromised flying ability could easily lead to Skyfire's demise should he encounter hostile forces in the air. The loss of Skyfire would mean a reduced ability to return mechs swiftly to the med bay. Therefore, it had made sense to have Skyfire repaired before allowing him to transport any more injured. However, the next mech that Skyfire had picked up had been Cliffjumper, and Cliffjumper had died.
"Prowl?" Hot Rod asked. "You okay, sir?"
"Thank you, Hot Rod. I am fine. You need to report to the med bay." Apparently, his suddenly gloomy mood was visible in his expression.
"Yes, sir." Hot Rod looked like he was still worried about Prowl, but he did leave.
Once he was gone, Prowl stared at a datapad without really seeing it. He had just run some favorable calculations regarding a final end to the war. Still, Megatron was getting desperate and desperate mechs did deadly things. As the humans said, he couldn't help but wait for the other shoe to fall.
Ratchet had hit the point of strut-bending exhaustion that only came after working non-stop under high stress for nearly twenty-four hours. His optics frizzed as code that was in need of a deep defrag threw a couple errors. He rebooted them twice, then rebooted them a third time when he realized that Soundwave was standing in front of him.
Sometime during the long, long day, Soundwave had found himself a long piece of metal and tacked a handle on it. He was now leaning on his cane with one hand, and holding a full cube of energon out with his other. This was actually the third time that Soundwave had brought him energon.
"Thanks," Ratchet murmured, knowing that Soundwave couldn't understand the word but showed clear signs of comprehending intonation. It was just too far to walk to either his quarters or the rec room to get fuel. His tank was low, but he was even more tired.
Soundwave inclined his head in acknowledgment, then without further reaction, wobbled his way back to a work bench. After they'd gotten Silverbolt's repairs completed, Ratchet had put him to work rebuilding Smokescreen's shattered leg, and it looked like he was well along with that complicated job. He'd judged that was a good task for Soundwave, since it could be done with the leg off and he didn't have to worry as much about hostile interactions between Soundwave and the soldiers.
To say that the Autobots were less than thrilled about the two former 'cons in the med bay was an understatement. Cliffjumper had been part of the Ark's crew since the very beginning. He would be missed deeply, and Soundwave and Frenzy were convenient targets for harsh feelings. Ratchet had to confess that the sight of Soundwave's sigil had roused a little bitter anger in his own spark.
He was unsurprised that Soundwave was almost done with the job, despite it being a tedious and complicated repair. Both Soundwave and Frenzy did neat, precise, efficient work. That was probably a given for Soundwave, given his personality, but Frenzy's ability to focus and his attention to detail was a pleasant surprise.
Ratchet wondered if Frenzy had learned from his master, or if Soundwave had accepted Frenzy as a symbiont because he'd taken the time to get to know the kid first, and had recognized his potential. From a few comments Frenzy had made, he got the impression they'd known each other for a long time before bonding - and that the twins had been considered undesirable by most carriers.
Ironhide's voice behind Ratchet made him jump. The mech growled, "He sure knows where his fuel's coming from."
"Who, Soundwave?" Ratchet blinked in surprise as he turned around. Then he snorted. "You're probably right, but it does guarantee he'll be on his best behavior."
"Eh, let him be, Ironhide." Wheeljack walked up to stand next to Ironhide. "We need Soundwave's help, and I can't say the two of them haven't been handy to have around."
"Yeah, they're making themselves useful, all right." Ironhide glowered. "And taking full advantage of our hospitality. Kid was actually in the rec room earlier."
"I told him to take a break." Ratchet didn't like to hear that note of resentment from an officer. "He has every right to fuel up, Ironhide. And he was there with Skyfire, who was keeping an eye on him."
Ironhide made a skeptical noise. "Yes, but he could do it someplace that is not our rec room. Just sayin'. It's going to cause trouble."
At that moment, with speak-of-the-devil perfect timing, Frenzy walked in, burdened down with a canister of acetylene for welding. Ratchet hoped Frenzy hadn't overheard Ironhide's comments, but suspected he had. Well, the kid wouldn't be surprised by them, and all Frenzy said was, "You should know we're about out of argon, boss."
"I know." Ratchet had been keeping track of that problem all day, though it was a good reminder. "That distributor still hasn't delivered. I've called twice."
Ironhide growled in irritation. "Idiot. People could die if we don't get that gas."
"He said his truck was broke down when I called him a couple hours ago - Optimus had me working on him yesterday too." Frenzy frowned. "I said we could solve that problem, the no truck problem, but … well, I think he's scared of robots and didn't like that idea."
"One wonders why he might be scared of mechs." Ironhide gave Frenzy a significant look.
Frenzy smirked over his shoulder as he set the bottle down in the corner and started hooking it up to a welding rig. "Yeah, well, you give me a lift, we can take advantage of that fear."
Ironhide's expression darkened, clearly not finding it at all funny.
Frenzy turned around and held both hands up defensively. Ratchet noted Frenzy had energon smeared to his elbows, grease on his face, and had somehow acquired a dent in one shoulder. He hoped the dent hadn't been caused by an Autobot. "Hey, I didn't say I'd be rude. Just sayin' if I show up and walk into his office, I bet that order gets filled."
Ironhide would have turned the idea down flat, but Ratchet overrode him, "Frenzy, go. Ironhide, we need that gas."
"Ratch …" Ironhide started to protest.
"Frenzy will behave, or I'll have his bolts. Get going." Ratchet put every ounce of his authority into his voice. "Frenzy, you know the amount that they owe us, right?"
"Yup, I've seen the invoice. Optimus had me working on it before we got attacked." Frenzy looked way up at Ironhide. Then he unsubspaced a cleaning rag and wiped the grease and fuel from his plating with quick, efficient motions. As he did, he said, "You gonna let me ride in you, or squish me flat if I suggest it?"
With a mutter, Ironhide transformed. "Get in. You do anything funny, I'm transforming with you inside, you hear?"
"Yeah, yeah, and then you'd have to explain to Ratchet why my guts are mixed up with your guts." Frenzy scrambled through Ironhide's reluctantly opened passenger door and seated himself. Ratchet was amused to note that he put his seatbelt on before slouching against the window. He also suspected that the quick clean-up that Frenzy had done to himself before getting in Ironhide had something to do with good manners. He wondered if Ironhide, or any of the others who were silently watching the exchange, had caught that automatic gesture.
He realized he'd forgotten to factor Soundwave's reaction to sending Frenzy off with Ironhide in when the carrier made a very worried buzz of static and started to rise from his position at the table. "It's okay," Ratchet said, moving over to him and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Ironhide will bring the kid back. I promise."
Soundwave was tense under Ratchet's hand, and he grew even more rigid as Ironhide rolled out through the med bay doors. Ratchet was halfway expecting an explosion of panic from Soundwave, given how much he worried about his symbiont, and how personally reliant he was on him.
After a moment, Soundwave relaxed a little. His masked and visored face turned towards Ratchet. He got the feeling he was being scrutinized. Then, slowly, Soundwave nodded, straightened his backplates, then returned to work on the leg. He was still tense, but he was not actually objecting to Frenzy's departure with an Autobot.
Trust, Ratchet realized. Somehow, someway, he'd earned the Decepticon's personal trust. It was a weird feeling. Soundwave had been their enemy for so very long. And he'd touched a mind, when he'd repaired Soundwave's operating system, that had been full of suspicion that verged on paranoia. Yet he trusted now. It felt, weirdly, like an honor, though he wasn't sure why he should be honored by the warm regard of a Decepticon.
Confused, he patted Soundwave's shoulder, and then stepped back, suddenly reluctant to get too close. And … he was a 'con. They'd lost Cliffjumper. He felt guilty for being nice to a Decepticon - former Decepticon, he reminded himself - as if it was a betrayal of all those lives that had slipped through his fingers in a surgical bay, and all the friends he'd lost. It was all very confusing.
"Get back to work!" He growled at his staff, when he realized he was being watched. "Anyone who slacks off gets to clean the damned med bay from top to bottom onight before recharging!"
Frenzy hid his nerves by leaning against Ironhide's door, stretching his legs out before him, and folding his arms. He managed to look cool and casual until they were a hundred feet down the hall, which was when they passed a small form curled up on a pallet, awaiting his repairs.
He straightened up, studying his … well, his lover, though it still seemed strange to think of himself as somebody's lover. He already knew Steeljaw would be fine, but Steeljaw had quite a lot of damage, some of which looked painful. He was sedated, and Eject and Rewind were both sitting with him. Steeljaw's head was in Rewind's lap, and Rewind looked like he was in recharge. Eject had his knees tucked to his chest and was curled up against Steeljaw's back, laying on his side, blue optics staring dully into space. All three of them looked pretty beat up. He didn't see the twins or Ramhorn.
He wanted to be there, sitting with them … except he didn't know what sort of welcome he'd get from Steeljaw's siblings, plus there was work to be done, and it would definitely raise suspicions with the other Autobots if he showed too much attention to Steeljaw. He had not even dared bring the three of them energon, though he'd wanted to.
"Where's Blaster, anyway? And his other cassettes?"
Ironhide grumbled, "What do you care?"
He very nearly snapped something truly rude. He was exhausted and worried and he was trying his best to be helpful. He managed to be reasonably civil, however, and simply came back with a mildly annoyed, "Why do you care what I care?"
"Looking for a new master?"
That stung. He balled his fists up and glared at Ironhide's dashboard, in lieu of a face to shoot an evil look at. "Never!"
"Then what do you care?"
"Because," he hissed, "I wasn't sure if he'd survived. l know what it's like to have that sort of loss and I was worried about them."
"What do you care about Autobots?" The other mech demanded.
"Oookay, you're as stupid as I thought." Frenzy knew the words weren't wise, but anger flared. He'd been busting his aft all day and Ironhide had the gall to ask if he cared? It was rude.
Silence, from the Autobot, reigned for several minutes. He waited for an explosion of temper, well aware of his vulnerable position. Ironhide wasn't exactly the most warm-fuzzy of 'bots. Finally, however, in a grumpy tone of voice rivalling Ratchet at his worst, Ironhide said, "They're working with Perceptor to rebuild our communications array. It got slagged up prettty good. They're fine."
Frenzy ran a hand over his face. For some reason he was compelled to answer, "I like them, okay? I know what it's like to lose people you're bonded to. I was just worried about them."
"You like 'em?" Ironhide sounded surprised.
Frenzy shrugged. "They remind me of my siblings, okay? Who are all dead." He managed not to add, because of you people only at the last second, biting his words off with a scowl.
"I'm sorry," Ironhide replied, after a moment. Perhaps Frenzy had let just a little more emotion into his words than he'd really intended, but Ironhide's apology sounded sincere. However, then Autobot added, "Didn't realize you were a sentimental glitch."
"Hey!" Frenzy protested, stung a bit at first. Then he realized that it was a friendly overture of sorts, and he snorted, "Didn't you know? All 'cons are sparkless killers."
"Figured that out a long time ago, kiddo." Ironhide sounded rueful now.
They traveled in silence after that, and Frenzy wondered if Ironhide really meant those words. Did he really think all 'cons were sparkless killing machines? Worse, how much truth was there in that assumption? He wasn't stupid, and he couldn't help contrast how the Autobots treated each other - and him! - to what he was used to among the 'cons.
He hunched down in the seat a little bit lower, suddenly glad that Ironhide had no more questions for him. He had a lot to think about.
"... and if you threaten them, I will terminate you, runt," Ironhide said, concluding a very long (and unnecessary, Frenzy thought) lecture on appropriate behavior. He rolled into the warehouse's parking lot, just as one of the company's own vehicles was leaving.
"Wonder if that's our delivery?" Frenzy said.
"They said their truck was broken down, didn't they?" Ironhide growled.
Frenzy twisted around in the seat. The truck was headed in the wrong direction, turning left instead of right, towards the Ark's remote location. It had been a long two hour drive to the welding supply warehouse. After a second, he turned his attention back to scan the parking lot. Another delivery truck was in the process of being loaded … and there was a jeep in the parking lot that looked rather familiar.
"Slag," he growled.
"What?" Ironhide reacted with alarm to Frenzy's low groan of disgust.
"You got two choices, 'Hide. Gimme a weapon, or not." He reached to unbuckle the seatbelt. At first, it wouldn't come unlatched, but when Swindle exploded into his root mode, the belt snapped loose on his own, and he found himself unceremoniously dumped to the ground in a clatter of metal on asphalt, even as Ironhide rapidly transformed and stood up.
"You knew about this?" Ironhide demanded, suspiciously, as Frenzy scrambled to his feet and looked for cover.
"Slag no." He edged away from Ironhide, assuming that 'Hide's choice was 'no weapons for Frenzy' and figuring Ironhide was about to become a target. Swindle didn't have cover, but he had something better - every 'con knew that an Autobot wouldn't fire on a mech who had an occupied building full of humans behind him. He snapped, "Figured you guys'd have done more to secure your supply chain!"
That got him a low growl. Then, somewhat to his surprise, Ironhide unsubspaced a hand blaster and tossed it to him, even as Swindle snarled at him, "Traitorous little glitch!"
"Oh, like you're one to talk." He caught the blaster. To Ironhide, it was small enough to wield in one hand. He knew he was going to have a little more trouble with wielding it! Gun in hand, he bolted for the only cover he saw, which was a low drainage ditch at the edge of the parking lot. It was Frenzy sized; Ironhide had no practical cover and no way to shoot back. He could see humans peeking out of the windows.
Swindle knew exactly what he was doing, too. The glitch was smirking broadly and taking his time, talking trash at Ironhide who was returning the insults with enthusiasm.
Frenzy gave the weapon he'd been given a quick once over, noted the model, and suppressed a small pang of alarm. That thing had a kick that was going to knock him on his aft if he wasn't careful.
:Kid, you think he's alone?: Ironhide asked.
:Ain't picking up any other power signatures.: He flattened himself farther down into the ditch, tracking the movements of the other two mechs by sound rather than sight. He had no desire to get his head blown off. :I'm sure more will be here quick enough, though.:
:You think there might be more around here and cloaked?:
:That's an Autobot thing.: He managed not to make that observation sound too much like an insult.
The two mechs were still exchanging insults. Swindle sounded somewhat distracted, though probably not as ticked off as Ironhide was trying for. Ironhide, no fool, likely wanted Swindle to charge him so that he'd move away from the building full of humans and give Ironhide a clean line of fire. Swindle, meanwhile was holding his ground, probably waiting for backup.
Frenzy was willing to bet that Swindle had been squatting in the company's parking lot for days, pressuring them to delay delivery of supplies to the Autobots. If the Autobots ran out of welding gases, they'd be crippled in their ability to make repairs. He couldn't blame the humans for cooperating with the 'cons, either … not as squishable as they were.
Probably would've been me'n Rumble, putting the squeeze on the humans, before … he terminated that line of thought ruthlessly, before the pain at the thought of his twin could grow too intense. He'd enjoyed playing the role of a thug, as required, scaring squishies into cooperation. Cowardly creatures that they were, it was easy, and entertaining, work.
Well, right now, he just needed to worry about getting his own aft out of this alive. Once Swindle dealt with Ironhide, he'd be the next target. If Swindle's backup arrived, he'd probably end up terminated without hesitation by whoever the big 'cons with the big guns were. Really should have kept my sigil, he thought, with miserable fear, coulda claimed they had me held prisoner …
Ironhide wasn't having much luck getting Swindle to move away from the building, though the exchange of insults was growing ever-more entertaining. Frenzy gritted his dental plates and stuck his head briefly up, and verified that the drainage ditch ran along the outer edge of the parking lot, out of sight around the edge of the building. That gave him a plan, and he scurried down it on all fours, wincing at the scraping noise his hands and knees made on the cement.
Swindle was too busy describing Ironhide's ancestry in detail to hear Frenzy's progress. Once out of sight of Swindle - but not Ironhide - he ran for the building. The back door was unsurprisingly locked. He wrenched the doorknob open with a quick twist of his wrist and slipped inside, where he was met with the tiny muzzle of a nine millimeter handgun, aimed at his face.
Faster than a human eye could follow, he batted the gun aside. It went off with a loud report, and the bullet whanged off the cinderblock wall behind him. He grabbed the man's hand, shoved the gun higher, aiming it towards the ceiling, as the squishy tried to wrench it out of his grasp. The hand gun didn't represent that much of a threat to him, but it could destroy an optic - or injure another squishy, which would probably torque his Autobot bosses off.
Inspired by an entertaining human movie he'd once seen, he held his own blaster up. The thing was bigger than the man's head, with a muzzle two inches across. He hoped the man didn't notice he couldn't hold the gun and press the trigger with one hand … his fingers weren't long enough. "That's not a gun," he drawled, nailing a certain faux Australian accent, "this is a gun."
The man let go of his little pistol and held both hands up in the air.
"That's better," he said, grinning with appreciation of the man's terror. Yep, he could still scare a squishy into wetting himself. "You alone in here?"
The man shook his head. "M... m … secretary …"
"You have two seconds to get her and scram." He pointed at the door. "And take the gun!" He kicked the weapon back to the man. "You shoot me with it, I shoot back. You shoot Swindle with it, you might slow him down enough to save her ass."
Well, maybe. If they were very lucky. More likely, they'd just function as a distraction which could save Frenzy's life, but whatever.
The secretary didn't need to be 'gotten' - she bolted out from under a desk with a squeak of terror that was almost cute, and ran faster than he would have believed possible for the door. The man grabbed his pistol and bolted after her, half stumbling through the door, and leaving the acrid stink of urine behind. Foul creatures, squishies!
He ran after them, something that made them move even faster, though he wasn't actually chasing them. He just wanted to get out of the line of fire, too. He suspected that Ironhide might be more willing to hit him than he was to hit the humans! :Building's clear, Ironhide. 'Get 'im!:
Ironhide reacted with a startled, :Wha …?:
:All humans out. Get 'em!: What had Ironhide thought he was up to? Squishing squishies? Surely not, Frenzy wasn't that stupid.
A firefight promptly erupted behind him, though he wasn't sure who shot first. The humans scrambled down into the drainage ditch with frightened animal cries. He slid after them, cement raising sparks as he scraped his armor against the ground. He dodged into a culvert that went under the driveway into the parking lot, crouching in half an inch of fetid water, and the humans pressed in after him.
"Stay behind me," he snapped, not wanting them to get in his line of sight. Impatiently, he batted the male aside with one hand, shoving the man backwards, when he was slow to react.
"I am armed," the man pointed out.
He glanced at the little gun, which was barely more than a toy. "Aim for the optics," he advised, sarcastically. "I hope you're a good shot."
At that instant, one Swindle-shaped leg skidded down into the culvert right in front of him. He reacted instantly, bracing the Ironhide-sized hand blaster against his shoulder with one hand and pressing the trigger with the other. The recoil almost knocked him over. Swindle screamed and went down hard, foot mangled from the ankle down. Energon spurted through the air in glistening arcs. The 'con howled again, twisted around, and aimed his gun at Frenzy. At that range, he couldn't possibly miss, and Frenzy was trapped in the culvert, unable to dodge aside …
Ironhide discharged a plasma cannon, with a thunderous roar, at Swindle's hand. The gun, and Swindle's arm from the elbow down, vaporized. The heat washed over Frenzy and the EM from that blast whited his optics out briefly.
Two seconds later, a nanoclick after he rest his optics, a second large 'con joined the fight … from his vantage under the bridge, Frenzy got a good glimpse of Vortex's legs as Vortex landed next to Swindle, shot at Ironhide, and then grabbed the 'con and leaped aloft. There was a noise of clattering gears and then a thump of helicopter rotors as Vortex beat a retreat.
Frenzy let a long sigh out through his vents. He had not been sure he was going to survive this fight. :Thanks for the save, 'Hide,: he said, giving credit where credit was due.
Ironhide knelt down and peered under the bridge. "You guys okay?"
The human man nodded. "S... sorry about the f... fuel, he said he'd kill us if we t-told you."
"Nah, we understand." Ironhide's optics were keen on Frenzy. "You saved them, kiddo."
He shrugged, more than a little self conscious. It hadn't been his intent. They'd just been a liability he needed to get out of the way so Ironhide would be able to fight. A 'con wouldn't have worried about human casualties, but he knew the Autobots did. However, he wasn't about to admit that he didn't care about the humans!
The female touched his arm, making him jump. "Thank you," she murmured, suddenly. He realized her intention two klicks before she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. "I have kids … thank you. Thank you so much."
The gratitude was real. The look of bemused appreciation from Ironhide was real. They were pleased with him. He hadn't expected that …
Awkwardly, he subspaced the blaster and then patted her on the back. He'd never touched a squishy who wasn't terrified of him before. She felt warm, soft, with muscles sliding under pliant skin, and covered over by thin fabric. He smelled her perfume, sweetly floral, and it made it think of Steeljaw and his well known appreciation for pleasant human scents. Her breath whispered against his cheek as she repeated her thanks a couple times more, and then she pulled back. "I have kids," she repeated. "They'd have been without a mom."
Past her shoulder, he could see the ruins of the building they'd been in. It was starting to burn, and it appeared at least one of the mechs had fallen on it. It had also taken several good blasts from energy weapons. They would have died, had they remained in that building.
He shrugged, honestly at a loss as to what to say at first. They were so fragile, so delicate, and he'd never had one need him before.
Finally, however, he glanced up at Ironhide. "We, uh, still need that gas. Is it in …?" he gestured at the burning building. Ironhide growled something under his breath that sounded like an obscenity, not quite fully articulated.
"No, no, it's in the warehouse around back." The man shook his head. "I'm sorry. He said he'd kill us … I'm sorry."
The woman repeated, with fervant gratitude, "Thank you."
He'd never had a human need him before. He told himself it was silly. What did he care about humans?
"Thank you," the woman said again, gripping both of his hands with her delicate, soft fingers. She was standing so trustingly close to him, and her gratitude was surprising to Frenzy. He was used to anger, fear, and cowardice from humans. Suddenly, he was glad he'd saved her. It felt like he'd done the right thing, and it had been a long time since he'd felt that way about anything.
"You're welcome," he murmured, unaccountably embarrassed and self conscious. "I, uh, I'm glad you're both okay."
:Kid,: Ironhide said, :Ya did good.:
The praise made him grin. He'd never expected to hear that sort of compliment from Ironhide, one of the most effective warriors he knew on either side of the war. He was practically glowing with pride as he climbed out of the ditch.
Soundwave would be proud of me too, he thought, as he walked with light steps beside the two humans. He'd think I handled the situation very well.