No road trip could last forever, that much Roland knew.
Still, it didn't make the prospect of missing Smokescreen's presence any easier to stomach. No less did it make any less awkward to be silently aware that they were finding ways to elongate the road trip by circling around the Autobot's final destination. What was supposed to have been a straight beeline up north towards Tranquility, bypassing the state of California altogether, instead had turned into a detour deeper into the southwest.
"Y'know what, Ro. How about this… I'll take ya to Los Angeles and we can explore California together. That way ya don't feel so alone when you gotta find a place to stay and everything. It felt like a big deal when you had to get out of Chicago altogether. You sure you thought this whole… moving thing through?"
"Not… in particular. That's something I've been trying not to think about. That's what makes something like this fun. You can just kinda forget about the world for a little bit and not have to worry about life for a while. But… you have a good point. I can't forget about what happens when I actually have to start making a living. Thanks Smokescreen, though… I… really appreciate everything, you know?"
In all honesty, Roland knew he could not forget about having to sort out just even the bare necessities. It was not as if he was made of money in the first place, but just trying to contemplate the increased cost of living in California as a whole, no less the city where he pinned his hopes in trying to make it as a music star, was itself enough to send him into some hopeless spiral. Given that he had divulged just the beginning of the details about his family life to Smokescreen, he knew that trying to dive deep into the realities of living on his own in a state that he really was a stranger to was just inviting even more anxiety.
Now that his mind was on the forefront of that moment yesterday as he and Smokescreen reasonably sped down the interstate 40, the stops and starts of tolls allowing Roland's mind some space to breathe from the whizzing of the environs around them, he couldn't help but contemplate Smokescreen's words as some much needed food for thought. That whole conversation and that frazzled moment of just allaying his most vulnerable aspects of himself to the rookie forced Roland to really think about what his bond, friendship, or whatever it was he was developing with Smokescreen, truly meant. As horrible as it felt to leave Smokescreen in a perpetual muck of emotionally intense conversations for what seemed like on the daily… the singer couldn't help but feel he was also growing more and more closer to the Autobot? Or perhaps he was simply projecting his loneliness onto the rookie, a prospect itself which horrified Roland.
Either way, it made the prospect of saying goodbye a difficult one. Maybe his half-delirious state while trying to sing through tears had the right idea of wanting to make sure that, regardless of what happens to them, this road trip would be filled good memories for the Autobot. Maybe there could be some spontaneous fun to be had as the prospect of Los Angeles loomed over them. If traffic agreed, they could have a fun night or two in the city of dreams, or perhaps even a late afternoon jaunt through some of the more touristy parts. It was at least a temporary escape from having to figure out if he was even going to have a bed in a manner of 12 to 48 hours from now, even though it was something he needed to think about urgently.
As they crossed state lines into California, Roland began to get exhausted and comfortable enough that he leaned his head on the steering wheel. In his stupor, he'd forgotten that Smokescreen would be the type of Autobot to pay attention to every single detail, even if the rookie was focusing on getting them to the heart of Southern California itself. Any thoughts of the irony of now being in the very same state that his mother and Raymond tried to start their careers in were stopped in their proverbial tracks when he heard a 'whoa, whoa!' coming from the speakers.
"Looks like someone's gettin' comfy! Ya okay, Ro?" He heard Smokescreen ask.
"Just a little bit tired." Roland tried to fight the flustered feeling, not wholly enjoying how easily the Autobot made him feel so embarrassed. Still, there was something relieving to hear just how easily casual Smokescreen would be, something precious to his youthful and boisterous demeanor. "I want to rest up a bit before we hit Los Angeles. You still know how to get there, right?"
"I do, yeah. Shouldn't be too hard to follow the numbers. I keep on going down this and then… something about turning into the interstate 10?"
"Exactly. I'll let you know if I need a break." In a way, a state like California would've been perfect for someone like Smokescreen and in theory, for any Autobot. From what he remembered of the brief childhood he had in California during the chaos of reckoning with his mother's death, it was nothing but an endless stretch of freeways, sometimes open road depending on where one went, and of course… the traffic. Always the traffic and the pleasant weather that became unpleasant during the dredges of the summer months. For someone who was literally a car… they would fit right in. "But I think I can hold on until we get to LA, and then… I'm gonna need my phone to navigate some of the more touristy parts. Are you sure you still wanna go, Smokescreen? I… don't wanna keep you from Nevada for so long, especially when you're so close."
"I'm sure of it, Ro. I know we gotta part ways at some point, sooner than later, but I don't wanna just dump you in some human city without making sure you're okay, and… honestly, spending more time with ya is fine with me. I'll be ok, and as I said… I don't really gotta be at Tranquility that fast."
"Okay… okay. As long as you're okay with it."
Yet selfishly, Roland was glad that he was afforded this extra time with someone that was so much closer to his heart and mind than even he was realizing in that moment. Some extra time was better than none, he reasoned. With that, he lay his head into the steering wheel, thoughts drifting towards what had happened yesterday and the full emotional toll of seeing his father again, of telling some version of his mother's story… it reopened a lot of old wounds that hadn't properly healed or even wounds that he never really addressed as such. He wasn't sure what the path forward was from here on out except for the obvious.
To not just keep chasing the dream he had held for so long, but to also keep helping Smokescreen for as long as he could and in the way he knew how.
He muttered the words to an old song his mother wrote so long ago, consisting of lyrics he hoped the rookie would live by at the end of whatever this all consisted of. Time would blur as Smokescreen drove through the vast expanse of the American southwest, the interstate 40 providing the sights and sounds of deserts that he was both familiar and not familiar with at the same time. Seeing the vast stretches of desert land, the rolling blocks of dry mountains, and the patches of grass that attempted to cover up the mounds of desert was home in a way that the Midwest never truly felt. To begin to experience this all with someone he cared for and about was… it was priceless in its own way, and it was so easy to take for granted.
He never really had the time to linger on sentimental feelings for so long, friendships often either being too fleeting for him to really settle on even having some sort of core group he could rely on. It was almost sorrowful to think about how starved he was of even basic interaction, but if he could make some sort of shameful pun as they crossed state lines, this was almost like striking gold in a way. It was a hell of a corny joke to his mind, knowing the state nickname attached to California.
Time would blur, even though these moments were one he wished would last for a little bit longer. He found himself drifting off to a strange slumber, even if it meant risking Smokescreen without some sort of navigator to get to Los Angeles. It was with some modicum of good fortune that the directions to the city proper were simple enough when it came to the freeway system. There was really only one direction with which they could get to that place: westward. There were patches where he would wake up, drowsily glancing at some intersections and horrifically designed freeway intersections where he would mutter 'take the 10 west… the 10 west, Smokescreen,' before leaning his head on the steering wheel with an exhausted smile.
When he finally awoke, a little bit more awake and alert, it was also with some miraculous timing.
He awoke to Smokescreen driving down the interstate 10, the Los Angeles skyline not too far into the distance. How strange it was to see a downtown skyline untouched by Decepticon destruction, but it was even strange still to finally see the city of dreams for what it was. He had always grown up with a version of Los Angeles that seemed stuck in the 1950s, an image of a la la land that was more golden age of Hollywood than the multifaceted metropolis that it was. The stretches of freeway and the endless expanse of urban and suburban development was a reminder to Roland of the reality that existed outside of the imagined fantasy of what he was taught through television and movies.
There was glamor to be found, but he knew that meant trying to force Smokescreen to go to places like Westwood or Beverly Hills. That was the fantasy, but not the reality.
Still, wasn't it a fantasy that he chased for? The fantasy of being a career singer whose voice was one of generations?
It made seeing the lofty skyline a surreal sight, knowing that one of the hearts of the American music industry was only freeways and streets away. However, he knew that just physically being here was only just the first part of the first step.
"You finally awake, man?" He was glad to hear Smokescreen's voice pierce through his exhaustion, the amused joviality piercing through obvious synthetic quality. Roland laughed as he stretched himself awake, breaking himself out of the reverie of staring too long at the skyline of a city he had fought for so long to get to. If anything, he never expected to make it to this point, having deigned even being in California's vicinity as but a fantasy that he probably needed to let go of as he grew older. "Geez Ro, you sure are a deep sleeper." He loved the joking tone too.
"Seriously speaking though, you doing okay from… yesterday? If you wanna talk about it… well, not now, cause I know we got a city to explore and to find a place for you to settle into before I gotta get to Tranquility. You humans have some pretty interestin' choices for architecture, but that ain't relevant now." Smokescreen asked.
He owed Smokescreen a bit more honesty now. In truth… he hadn't really had the time and space to really think through every single emotion that arose from yesterday's events. The escape of going to and now being in LA was enough to table those thoughts for another day, but in a lot of ways he was both okay and not okay.
"I… will be," he knew it wasn't much of a direct answer, but neither did he want to lie and say he was wholly okay. "I haven't really given yesterday a lot of thought. But… I still want to thank you, though, for… sitting through all of that, and for being with me and for taking me here to LA. It's…" Roland paused there, trying not to let the sentimentalism of the moment get to him too much. He didn't know where his mind was heading with all of the expressions of gratitude, only except to at least throw those words out there to make sure that they didn't remain in perpetual silence. "It means a lot to me. I know it's just words, but I just… want to let it be known to you, cause you really have been doing a lot just staying with me."
He wasn't sure how to take the silence that followed, causing Roland to linger his eyes towards the encroaching skyline. Did he confess too much? Did he speak too earnestly? It was strange to navigate any sort of relationship where vulnerabilities began to take center stage, especially as Roland had spent so much of young adult life mostly existing without any sort of these close friendships to really anchor him. Acquaintances and weak ties were aplenty to be sure in the work life that he did have, but even those felt more like familiar faces that would come and go. He focused his eyes on a skyline that he had not seen since he was a child, trying to find some distracting comfort at how much things have not changed in the years that he hasn't called Los Angeles home. It was a strange downtown to be sure, knowing that he would be even more lost in a concrete jungle like LA without the aid of someone like Smokescreen to shepherd him through the streets far more effectively than buses or trains that perpetually played second fiddle to the freeway sprawl.
Roland began to grow gladder that Cybertronians don't seem to have the capability of literal mind reading, or perhaps they did and the singer was not aware of such an ability. Before he had the chance to go down another rabbit hole, whether tinged with nostalgia or some other thing entirely, he could hear Smokescreen's voice pierce through the speakers.
"It's… really you I gotta thank, Ro." It was so very painfully endearing just to hear Smokescreen audibly struggle trying to navigate sentimental statements. However, he also deeply understood that struggle, knowing that trying to say too much or too little will be a perpetually moving target. "Maybe this is a sign as to how sad my whole life has been since I was sparked, heh. Slag… all I've ever known is the war, but with you… and you better keep it between just you and I cause I know some of the 'bots are probably gonna poke at me for this, and well… doesn't help that I like to consider myself a hot shot."
It was also so very strange to hear Smokescreen ramble, at some parts leading Roland to become concerned that they were going to find themselves in some sort of accident trying to navigate the SoCal traffic. It was to both of their benefits that things seemed to be going slower as they approached Los Angeles. They were not necessarily going at a complete standstill, but neither were they approaching anything resembling the speed limit.
"I actually like having someone where… I don't feel that pressure of needing to appear like a warrior, y'know? Sure, I've been buddies with 'Bots but it's different with ya… and it's a good of different. Guess all this to say, and I hope this ain't my spark's not getting too soft, but you've gotten me to… think about the whole peace thing more seriously for the first time in vorns."
How do you respond to something like that?
Roland wasn't a soldier. He knew that. However, that was going to be repeating some dictums that felt far too obvious, especially as he began to wonder how much combat the rookie had seen and also how much Smokescreen might not even be saying about untold yet potentially grizzly details. As much of a hypocrite the singer felt, perhaps focusing on the present moment would not just be good for himself, but also for the Autobot he didn't want to say goodbye to so soon. The promise of the west coast was right there and there was still a lack of urgency to get to Tranquility.
"I'm… really glad, Smokescreen." He wished he had more to say. "Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to have some fun. I… don't want to imagine how everything has been for you, but maybe we can just make some good memories here. Remember what I said before I sang that song in my mother's grave?"
"I… Always remember us this way?"
"Always remember us this way." It was strange being the one to sound so assured this time. "Exactly. There's a couple of places I could guide us to. Flagstaff is where I was born, but there was a time where I used to live in Los Angeles as a baby before my dad and I moved back. More sightseeing wouldn't hurt unless you really need to get to Tranquility that quickly."
"Hmmm." Was it selfish that a part of Roland wanted so badly for Smokescreent to say yes? "You know what… ah, frag it. Just tell me where you wanna go. Well… once we get past the situation regarding all of these cars. I swear, Ro, do you humans struggle to coordinate… all of this… traffic? And the air is fragging awful."
"That's Southern California for you, Smokescreen. You get used to it."
The touristy heart of Los Angeles was far from a dream, but having Smokescreen around made it feel like one. It was a bit impractical trying to take in the sights without stepping foot outside but considering the crowds and the relatively slow pace that both him and Smokescreen were going at, perhaps just a simple drive through the already horrifically large city would do the trick. He pointed out some landmarks such as the city hall, the Hollywood Walk of the Fame, and the constant amount of passersby that would often be dressed in costume. Just hearing the reactions from Smokescreen was itself rather precious, the rookie having made it clear again and again that humans were a rather strange bunch.
"Well… I can't say that we didn't have our own weird things in Cybertron, but this just seems so…" Smokescreen's tone was aghast as Roland finished describing some of the rather wild characters in costume.
"Listen, some of us humans just gotta make a living. One day to do it is to dress like that all the time and take advantage of all the tourists. You get used to it… this isn't called the entertainment capital of the world for nothing." It was comforting to see the familiar buildings of Sunset Strip, if more the fact that Roland was glad that the endless stretch of highways finally ended. He could do without the smog, the endless array of palm trees, but he didn't mind the antique theaters of Hollywood's golden age.
"Heh, if you say so, Ro. Any other places in this town, or…?"
Oh, there would be more. Roland began to think of other places for him and Smokescreen to visit. Downtown would be a jaunt, even if it meant having to potentially leave the Autobot behind for some visits. Much as he didn't mind taking a walk to something like The Last Bookstore, the last thing he wanted was to leave the Autobot isolated. He tried thinking of, oddly enough, more 'car-friendly' (which was an odd descriptor in his mind) places that could accommodate both him and Smokescreen naturally. He figured there could be some places in the palisades that could provide some decent sights, or potentially even Santa Monica Beach. He wasn't one for trying to chance himself going down a boardwalk alone no less a beach where there would be more people than he expected.
He already remembered Smokescreen making a fuss out of sand in Illinois. California would be a far worse experience.
"Ro, you heard my question, or?... Please tell me I didn't just lose ya to thinking."
"Shit… sorry about that, Smokescreen. I was thinking." Neither was Roland was surprised at the groan that emanated from the speakers in response. "Calm down, hotshot."
"Oh we doin' names, now? Never heard you call me that before."
The amusement and smug joy in Smokescreen's voice was unmistakable, even if the Autobot was trying to act like he was affronted by the statements. Again, Roland found himself flustered, losing track of the list of places he had in mind as he exasperatedly sighed into the steering wheel.
"I'm trying to loosen up a little bit…" It was the best defense Roland could offer.
"I know… and I'm glad you are. I wanna see ya have fun and live a little, y'know?" If only Smokescreen knew that those were the exact sentiments that Roland held towards Smokescreen himself, though the singer remained quiet in response. "Anyway, you had places in mind, right?"
"If we keep driving down the direction we're in… we're definitely due to hit Santa Monica beach. I know where to go. I'll guide you," he stated that last part quickly in some attempt to try and alleviate whatever possible confusion that could arise from the Autobot. He cursed himself at his habit of thinking out loud, knowing that spouting out places would probably just lead Smokescreen to be even more bewildered in a place like this. Thankfully, Smokescreen only gave him an affirmative to lead the way.
To this day, LA still confused Roland.
He pushed any possible thoughts of the talent show that lay in wait as he described more of the city to Smokescreen as he guided him through the extensive network of streets that would hopefully lead them towards the palisades. The traffic, as expected, was something of a tedium to get through at its very best, and slowed them through a crawl at the very worst at the post-late morning rush hour. In truth, any hour in LA that wasn't past midnight was a perpetual rush hour in this strange city of cities. It was a delight to hear how Smokescreen's incredulity at the idiosyncrasies would intensify, even if Roland knew that he was exaggerating the details a bit too much. Still, that was the beauty of a city with many names like LA… La La Land, Tinsel Town, or whatever other monikers it had picked up throughout the years. There was some measure of truth to the slanted perspective he gave to the rookie, perhaps letting him know that beneath all the glamor, the city was just that. A city.
He hadn't been here long enough to develop enough of a perspective as to what living here actually entailed and what lay beneath the beautiful, sun-kissed sceneries that forever begged to be placed into postcards. The backdrop itself was so perfect for his fantasy career as a pop star, living out the kind of life in this pocket of Southern California as some enshrined 'voice of a generation' type, basking in the shadows of the singers who inspired him having performed and recorded songs here. A backbone of the American music industry was literally freeways and streets away, even if he would be just a complete stranger to them. Much as he tried to distract his mind by just describing and contextualizing the sights of the more upper-class cities they would drive through, Roland knew that he couldn't avoid the prospect of the music industry any longer.
He felt awful that Smokescreen was in proximity to something that was both beautiful and ruthless at the same time. He felt even more awful that, if Roland had his way, he actually wanted Smokescreen to stay with him as he tried to find a way to wade through some sort of entry point to his dreams. What was the point of all this stunning scenery if he could not even fulfill the original reason as to why he wanted to saunter off to Los Angeles in the first place?
As he began to think about how to break off that very sudden prospect towards Smokescreen, he found some strange shift in the atmosphere of the interior. He would utter Smokescreen's name once he led him towards an interchange that would make a beeline for the pacific palisades, finding that the rookie had gone deathly silent. Now, that was incredibly unusual and strange, leaving Roland wondering just how much he had let his own thoughts stray into needless wanderings that he had all but barely paid attention to the world around them. He sat up from his slouch, eyes trying to take in the sights and focus on what he might not have been seeing. Roland figured that perhaps some strange sight caused the Autobot's eye and perhaps there was nothing to worry about.
"Smokescreen?" of course his voice would break, displaying a fear he wanted to hide.
He was met with a silence as Smokescreen began to take some strange directions, and seemed to be emanating unrecognizable sounds from the speakers. This intensified especially as the driving was far more forced, less natural, and rather violent. There was almost a disregard for the traffic and even some sort of hostility towards them, that was if Roland was reading the sentiments from the sounds correctly. He tried to take a deep breath to preemptively soothe the frantic anxiety that began to tear through his mind and chest, but the continued silence did not help matters at all. Before long, he could see Smokescreen park himself at a row of rather expensive looking vehicles, framed by a backdrop of a street backlogged by traffic. Roland didn't have enough time to ask what was going on or why, the rookie finally addressing him.
"Ro," he hadn't heard such a grave tone from Smokescreen before. "I picked up a Decepticon signal nearby."
As much as Roland didn't want to admit it, that explained so much of the abrupt shift in mood and behavior. Then immediately, the fear of a Decepticon being nearby set a fear alight in Roland that nearly immobilized him into a silence, thoughts of sudden death entering his mind as well as the carnage that appeared in places like Mission City just a mere few years ago. So many worries began to crash together in his mind that he had no idea where to even begin except a hyperawareness that any of the cars could very well be the offending Decepticon in the vicinity. Time felt like it began to lurch into this inescapable crawl.
"Wha… What do we do?" Roland tried to sound as resolute as he possibly could, but there was no escaping the panic that burned within him.
"What I do best," why was there a grim excitement in the Autobot's voice? The singer only realized the obvious then and there, his mind quickly scrambling to protest. "Ro, I can't not go after them, but I don't wanna put ya in danger."
"I…"
"Find a spot to hide. Don't worry, I'll be safe."
"Smokescreen no-"
"I will be. I'm an Autobot, Ro… I'm meant to do this. I will come back, I swear to it. It won't be long."
The ease in Smokescreen's voice would normally have abated whatever anxieties and fears were storming through his psyche. In this case, it was only further fuel to the fire. His mind was too lost in concern and worry to think about his life. What if the Decepticon out there was strong enough to kill Smokescreen for good? What if they were out there only a few car lengths away? He didn't want to defy who he had come to call his friend, but the prospect of losing him, especially this soon, had hurt in ways Roland did not want to even dare articulate. He hadn't much long to stay in contemplation as he found himself tasting the outside air, thick with tension and anxiety as he felt completely lost as to what to do. Further bewildering him was seeing Smokescreen speed off without him, leaving Roland stranded in some section of suburb he did not recognize at all.
Up ahead some fair distance away would be the roads that led to the canyons that oftentimes marked the intimidating if beautiful landscapes of the palisades. Roland was too anxious to remember where they even led, but staring into that direction was the lone clue of where Smokescreen would be. His eyes, filled with an anxious haze, struggled to decipher where the Autobot was even at through the traffic jam. As he came to, he realized that some sort of accident must be why this was even occurring, hazard signs up ahead that indicated some sort of landslide or something that blocked the road. Either way, Roland decided to at least move closer, his mind too lost to realize that he was volunteering himself to be a potential target by not heeding Smokescreen's plea for him to hide.
As he tried to run without attracting unnecessary attention (impossible as that was), the anticipation in his mind grew more overwhelming and the sun beat down on him more than he would've liked. The signs of an unmistakable landslide being the cause of the traffic jam in this part of the palisades were present, but Roland was still struggling to find out where his companion even was. However, it would not be too long until his own ears were provided with a brutal answer.
The unpleasant sounds of screeching metal and the carnage of stomps rang through his ears, forcing Roland out of sheer instinct to take cover nearby one of the parked cars. The noises intensified, refusing to abate, causing Roland to peer his head over what scant protection he did have. To his horror, his eyes witnessed what he hoped he would never have to see; the full form of Smokescreen's true appearance gleaming under the sunlight. His silver and blue paint job making him painfully stand out even if he was disguised as a car. His unblemished Autobot symbol, emblazoned proudly on his chest, stood as a supposed testament to what he stood for. Smokescreen's foolhardy willingness to expose himself so easily like this terrified Roland, but what frightened the human even more was that the Decepticon seemed so far either to be silent or unseen.
"Come out here, Decepticon fragger! Come out and face me!" was what Roland could overhear.
In a split second, he could see a dark gray car beginning to rush out of the scene. Roland had erroneously thought that to be some lucky person finding a break, but Smokescreen clearly thought otherwise. The chaos of the next few seconds were far too much for Roland to comprehend from his vantage point, but as it turns out, that dark gray sports car seemed to be the Decepticon. Without so much as even flinching, and to the horror of many other humans beginning to run away from their now stationary vehicles, Smokescreen would intercept that seeming Decepticon. Whatever training the rookie had received, Roland bore witness to just how disturbingly fast the Autobot moved. However, this entailed a brief chase deeper into the canyon, with Smokescreen's form now being a far more distant blob.
Just before they gave chase to each other, Roland saw that dark gray car (he could hardly tell the specifics… he just knew it was the type of car likely to be owned by someone bearing a lot of disposable income) transform into what was unmistakably a Decepticon. A dark gray car gave way to a Cybertronian who bore icy blue optics, chassis drenched in gray to a darker shade of silver with some accents of blue. Even in the chaos, there was one detail that stood out to Roland. Their Decepticon badge was worn and battered, befitting the also worn out state of their chassis.
Their chase, punctuated by a seeming exchange of shouts, fire, and punches, left behind a messy trail of destruction. It was difficult to surmise details from where Roland stood, only except for the stream of panicked humans that were trying to run for the direction of downtown. He could hear the desperate and shrill cries for help from those around him, leaving Roland wondering if following was even the right idea. Pure panic and worry over Smokescreen fueled him, leaving him slowly shoving past the panicked crowd as quickly as he could. The fighting overhead seemed to grow more intense, leaving the singer to overwhelm his own mind with thoughts of the worst possible outcome. What could he even do if it ended up coming down to a situation where Smokescreen's life was hanging by a thread? Still, he did not want to stand by idle, so he pushed through what crowds remained and the scorched, flaming debris that marked the once jampacked road in these hilly suburbs. How could he even call Smokescreen a fool when he was all too willing to sacrifice his own safety in a fight he knew where he would be too easy of a casualty? This was the carnage of war, one he couldn't even begin to understand.
Whether he was aware of it or not, he was absolutely the unwelcome factor in the violent altercation between Smokescreen and this Decepticon. As Roland inched closer, it was also clear that the former was the aggressor in this fight, utilizing each and every single tactic he had learned from his days in the academy. Unfortunately, it also made the Autobot a rather easy target to read tactically, the Decepticon having no problem being able to weave their way away from the most immediate assaults and punches. They were both putting up a valiant fight, albeit with profound damage to the environment around them with casualties no doubt. However, experience would ultimately dictate the fate of this battle.
Roland's presence would make itself known, and the human couldn't help but feel a chill crawl down the recesses of his spine when he caught the attention of the Decepticon. He thought he knew abject fear, but there was something otherworldly chilling about the silence of Smokescreen's enemy, and the ensuing cold gaze they gave towards the rookie. A hostile judgment was evident in their gaze, leaving Roland helplessly staring towards Smokescreen's way. It wouldn't be long until he caught the Autobot's attention, determined blue optics now showing a momentary panic.
"Roland!? What are you-" However, he was interrupted.
"Get out of this city," it was the first time Roland so much as even heard this Decepticon speak, and the singer wanted nothing more for this battle to end right at that very moment. The words were deliberate, carefully chosen and piercing in the quality of which they spoke. Each word was delivered akin to an impalement by way of some sharp blade, leaving Roland literally paralyzed. "This city is hell on wheels, more than you or your Autobot drone could understand."
"Leave him the frag alone! You don't know him or me!" The determination in Smokescreen's voice, fueled as it was by a reckless desperation, was the only thing that was keeping Roland at some sense of mental stability. "You made it personal, buddy! No one comes for my friend!"
There was no time for Roland to process anything as the fighting continued, giving the human enough time to find some sort of bush for the illusion of cover and protection. Even so, he stumbled backwards into one, only barely able to keep his emotions at bay as he saw Smokescreen and this Decepticon continue their fight. Though Smokescreen's capability of landing quick hits and shots were what would aid him, it was not at all the path to victory. To the singer's horror, he could see the rookie's opponent grab one of Smokescreen's arms to the point of total immobilization. The Decepticon would twist Smokescreen's arm just enough to cause the Autobot to yell in pain.
However, just as quickly as that began, Smokescreen lifted his other arm to strike the Decepticon, being able to break free from the hold. In turn, Roland could see the Decepticon's arm shift into a weapon pulsing with electricity. Subsequently, that Decepticon would then directly strike Smokescreen's chassis, causing the Autobot to quickly drop into the ground, optics flickering as if near death. Roland very nearly yelled out, but the shock of the moment caused the human to just simply stare at the scene with pure, abject fear. How could he react when that was his companion on the ground?
The Decepticon once more sent a chilling, perhaps even icy, stare towards the Autobot's way. Roland swore he could hear a silent uttering of, 'I said what I said.' He could see them transform into that same dark gray sports car again, driving off into places unknown.
This was not a victory. They were definitely out of the picture.
However, the only thing on Roland's mind was Smokescreen's safety. As soon as the Decepticon sped off, Roland spared no hesitation in running towards the prone rookie's way. For as much as the singer knew, Smokescreen may have been knocking on death's door. The closer the human drew, the more Roland's mind began to take on the cycles of denial. There's no way Smokescreen could be dead, there just could not be. However, the signs seemed to look more bleak as Roland slowly approached where he could see Smokescreen's head, faceplates locked into a non-responsiveness. The singer could feel his hands tremble as thoughts of the unthinkable began to take root into his mind, easily combating and breaking the cycles of denial that had been manifested for his own protection. He had already cried enough for the past few days, but seeing Smokescreen in such a state… seeing Smokescreen practically dead just for the sake of protecting him in a bullheaded move to try and see where the Autobot was.
His walk slowed to a crawl. Soon, he fell to his knees in front of Smokescreen's head, the guilt, the sorrow, the isolation, the loneliness, everything he could and could not articulate all coming to bear. It felt as if a part of his soul, still emerging and still healing, was ripped and torn apart at its most vulnerable. To lose someone he treasured, that made him want to chase his dreams again and realize that there is a beauty to the present… to lose someone who was willing to take these slow moments, to walk through his past. This was a grief he did not want, even if grief was a way of recognizing a love that had slowly begun to forment.
He was too lost in his emotions before he heard the sound of metal whirring and groaning, and Smokescreen's voice through the echoes of his own head. He opened his haze-filled eyes to see Smokescreen's optics staring back at him, faceplates straining to make a smile. He could hardly believe the sight, believing the alive rookie to be a dream. However, as the seconds passed, the more Roland realized that this was not a broken figment of his imagination. By whatever deities were above, this was real.
"Ro… ngh… I'm alive… it's okay…" was it strange that hearing Smokescreen's voice only intensified the desire to sob? Before long, Roland could feel one of the Autobot's digits around his shoulder, that same approximation of a hug between them being exchanged despite the destruction. "I gotcha… I'll keep ya safe… Don't worry…"
Roland didn't even bother with the reservations, embracing Smokescreen's faceplates as quickly as he could. He did not want to even fathom whether or not this could be the last time he would be able to hold the Autobot close.
"I… I thought you were… I thought I lost you."
"I promise ya… I'm still here. I'll just… need a breem," how the hell could he still sound so nonchalant? "We… got a lot to talk about… but for now… just remember why I fight… to keep ya safe… I'll get ya some place safe soon, promise…"
As desperate as things were, that was what Roland wanted and needed to hear.
Deep down inside, he knew this was only but the beginning of a much longer road for the both of them.
