Fire of Youth

Chapter 12

*Note to Kaleia: Ha-ha. Glad you're enjoying so much. :3 Yeeah. 0-0 Ratch is the one person you should not mess with. If you do you're either stupid, drunk, or a Decepticon. Or all three. But Infernus does understand that Ratchet fits the old adage "yelling because you care." He cares, he really does he's just not the most, erm, gentle personality you'll ever meet.

Also, Ratchet didn't call the kids useless. He just said they're more of a battlefield liability than Daily is. They've shown they can handle themselves...but here's the thing: they aren't combat trained and they aren't armed in any way. They rely more on outsmarting the giant evil aliens over shooting them full of holes. I'm not saying they aren't helpful. They proved innumerable times that they are. My point is they're each useful in their own ways but they still do pose a liability when thrust onto the battlefield no matter how you spin it.

You tried gmail? That's what I use. Reliable and easy to use.

Also, I don't mean to sound rude when I ask this: Is English not your first language? The way your sentences are written makes me think that.

*Giddy: Infernus is a bit of a quick-study smart-alec isn't he? Remember that he literally stole an omega key from under Megatron's nose and had the audacity to taunt him in the process. xP Oh, and Ratchet's not gonna turn the thing into a fat man launcher, don't worry. Give the doc some credit, Giddy. x3

Side Note: Say hello to the Gonzalez twins Adrian and Katelyn, the youngest members of Area 51's auto-experts! They'll not be constants like Neal or Daily but they will be making appearances now and again.


Outside, the sun set on an overall stressful day and brought with it the crisp chill of evening. The slim crescent moon hung low in the skies, washing the sun-baked pavement with its pale light. A handful of Jeeps grumbled past the hangar on their way to their garages, and a single jet screamed in from afar as it returned from what it had been doing. Then the living silence of the desert surrounding the entire compound returned once more as, one by one, the lights of the hangars and buildings ignited, casting their warm amber glows into the darkness.

Inside Hangar E, her alien occupants heeded not the darkness outside. Her human ones on the other hand were (reluctantly) beginning to wind down for the night. Her youngest ones were sitting together on the catwalk's lounge sofa. Daily sat opposite them, conversing with the three teens in the same casual, friendly manner that had drawn Infernus to him in the first place. June kept an eye on them from nearby, observing both them and the aliens almost simultaneously.

"I still can't see your gun, huh?" Miko asked.

"Miko, honestly! You aren't even licensed to be holding one!" scolded the nurse. To which Daily merely smiled and rolled his eyes at them before going back to talking with Jack.

Jack smirked knowingly at Daily once he was sure Miko's attention was elsewhere. "You know, if she starts to drive you nutty we could always have Infernus just drop her on the Nemesis once he's better. Maybe Megatron'll get so fed up with her that he'll surrender to get her off his hands."

"Oi! I heard that, Darby!" Miko snapped angrily. "I am not an airdrop!"

At that point the private laughed aloud.

Raf leaned over the back of the sofa to peek at the medic busily tinkering away at his worktable, the weapon itself lying in pieces close at hand. He was honestly a bit worried over letting Ratchet tinker with a gun. Every other time he'd tried to "help" upgrade some piece of terrestrial tech it had wound up backfiring in his face or getting them into heaps of trouble. And those items had been relatively harmless. But a gun? He just had to hope Ratchet could control his impulses long enough for the weapon to wind up as actually usable – instead of a harbinger of doom capable of firing a mini nuke or something.

The tween's light brown eyes strayed of their own accord over to the motionless form of the Primeling himself on the medical berth. His chestplates rose and fell slowly as air was cycled into his body, expression blankly peaceful. The dried Energon spilled during his fight with Starscream still remained on his frame, slowly cracking as time passed, revealing the pristine white underneath. His bio-metrics remained on display in case he took a sudden nosedive. But from how steady the readings looked, Rafael rather doubted that would happen. Sure there was the occasional blip in his neural-net activity that showed he might be dreaming, but other than that harmless little thing everything seemed normal.

Infernus had made it to the top of the mountain despite all odds. That was all that mattered. The hard, scary part was over. Everything else afterwards would be easy.

"Hey, Raf? You okay?" Daily wondered.

He turned, jumping slightly. "What? Yeah. I'm good. I'm just...glad he's okay."

Jack laid an arm on his shoulder, his blue-grey eyes resting on the slumbering mech nearby. Relief was plainly visible in them – relief shared by everyone within Hangar E. They had nearly lost him to the Void. But he had fought back. And he had won.

"We all are, Raf. We all are."


Arcee and Bumblebee arrived back around ten. Unable to simply fly over the mountains as the Primeling could, their trek had been longer thanks to being ground-bound like the rest of their team mates. The femme had to admit during the drive that having a team mate on equal footing with the 'Cons, able to fight them on their own turf, was going to be useful. Having a flier in charge of all Autobots (who were famously not fliers) was strange but it was interesting, too. Something different. Infernus was a wrench in the works not even Megatron could have expected.

They pulled into the hangar through the provided groundbridge with their haul. Though not exactly a jackpot by any means, it was enough to keep them going a while longer until another deposit was found or another 'Con mine was raided. Having next to nothing now, every little bit counted.

"How is he?" she wondered. The Primeling looked fine so far as she could tell but she wanted to make sure nothing had happened during her absence.

"Better." Ratchet replied curtly from the worktable. "He's actually recovering faster than I thought possible. Something is stimulating his repair systems into near overdrive states. That might be the Matrix or it might just be how young he is. Young mechs recover faster than older ones. Everyone knows that. Unfortunately with the amount of damage he took from those missiles he'll be down for the count for upwards of a week. Knowing him though, he'll try and sneak out before that."

*You really think he's crazy enough to disobey you that openly?* Bumblebee whistled in amusement.

"Puh-lease! He's done it before. He'll slagging well do it again if I so much as turn my back on him for a second."

It was all the scout could do not to laugh. Well he recalled Smokescreen's list of mischievous acts which ranged from unintentional and intentional theft to disobeying orders to harmless pranking of Jasper's local bully. He was a busy little imp for sure – but one who meant well in the end.

*I think he'll listen to you this time around, Ratch. You scared him pretty good earlier.*

Ratchet merely harrumphed in a ridiculing manner before returning to his work as the other members of Team Prime occupied themselves through the night. A wave of silence swept over the hangar around midnight when the humans on the lounge sofas and chair finally slipped under at long last. But even as the moon continued on her arc through the star-studded skies, the aliens continued to toil unaffected.


AREA 51, NEVADA
HANGAR E
0900 HOURS

Daily awoke to streams of sunlight and the smell of strong coffee brewing. He tried to rise and stretch his tight limbs only to find that if he did he would regret it. Rafael was curled up with his head resting on his left leg, covered by a light blanket someone during the night had provided. Who had done it couldn't say, but his money was on either June or Fowler – or the two of them working in collusion. The nurse herself was sitting on a recliner nearby, sipping a cup of coffee and observing the general goings-on. Fowler was nowhere to be seen. Jack and Miko were also absent.

Thus, rather than rise immediately, the private took in what was going around the hangar. Ultra Magnus was conversing with Prowl in hushed tones near the entrance, probably over supplies; Bulkhead and Wheeljack were nowhere to be found; Bluestreak was also missing, but the faint sound of a sports car engine outside gave away that he was still on site (and also hinted where Jack and Miko might be); Arcee was busy with a dangerous looking Cybertronian hand-held gun; Infernus was still out from the looks of things, though he looked better than he had the other day; Ratchet had abandoned his work table in favor of a computer, and Bumblebee lingered near the catwalks like a brightly colored sentinel, offering a wave and a trill to the private on noticing he was awake, and another trill to Raf.

"Where're Bulkhead and Wheeljack?" asked the private.

He realized only too late he'd asked the wrong mech. Bumblebee responded in a flurry of trills, beeps, whistles and clicks that Daily was at a loss to understand. Frankly, the most he could do was stare and look sadly bewildered. The scout seemed to realize his mistake. Silently he held up two digits, pointed outside, then added a third digit which he curved like claws, emitting a low buzz almost like an electronic growl. It didn't take a genius to decipher the charade-like message.

"They're out looking for more fossils, huh?"

The scout buzzed, giving him a thumbs up.

"Where are they?"

Bumblebee started whistling a tune which after a moment of thought he recognized as the Greek Fire's "On Top of the World." Huh. So they were in Greece again, were they? He wondered which monster they were after this time around. Maybe a dragon? Greece was famous for dragons and serpent-like creatures – though their versions were a bit different than the traditional old English beasts. Or, hell, maybe they were after a griffin? Or were they after a lesser known but no less dangerous creature perhaps? There were so many Greek monsters and mythical beings that after a certain point you tended to lose track of them all.

"Any idea what they're after there?"

The scout shrugged, giving a flat buzz that sounded like he was saying "Uhhhh..." so it came as no surprise when he looked over at Ratchet.

"Wheeljack is investigating the horse called Arion. He's a lesser known creature than some of his brethren, but his distinguishing trait – his agility – might suggest a speed-gifted Predacon – and those are rare let me tell you. As a side note, Arion doesn't seem to behave in the generally aggressive ways of his kin. He helped heroes on more than one occasion much like Pegasus did, though Arion always seemed to want some compensation afterwards in the form of precious metals. If indeed he existed, and on the small chance he still lives, he might make a useful ally. If not, that's one less speed-gifted equine Shockwave can clone."

"And Big Green?"

"Bulkhead is looking into the Nemean Lion to see if its remains can be salvaged from where it was slain. They both decided it was best to divide forces in order to search for more than one target at a time. If Infernus were aware when Magnus sent them on their ways he probably would've argued with him. Personally I'd agree. Splitting up at this time is not wise – smaller groups are more easily attacked as we saw with Infernus and Bumblebee. But those hard-helmed idiots never listen anyway."

As if in response to the medic's words, the Primeling stirred from his enforced slumber with a faint groan. He asked in a rather drunken-sounding voice what was up with all the racket. Daily stifled a short laugh. The mech looked and acted like he was suffering from a mild hangover or something. Poor guy. He needed a pick-me-up for sure.

"Hello to you too, sleepyhead." June greeted. "Feeling any better?"

Infernus gave himself a cursory once over before testing out his limbs, still obviously in the process of waking up as he did so. He admitted that didn't feel quite as sore as he had but the spots around the welds felt like they were super sensitive right now. Other than that he definitely didn't feel as bad as he had the other day after...after Starscream had shot him. He was good, really. To be brutally honest he was gonna be driving people crazy by the end of the day if the doc didn't let him out.

"Oh, come on. It's not that bad." Daily teased. "If a human took as much damage as you did we'd either be dead or in the hospital for a year. Ratchet said you were only gonna be down for upwards of a week. So you're getting off pretty easy in the grand scheme of things. No need to whine about it, pal. If you want my opinion I don't think you'll be stuck on that slab the whole time. Give it twenty-four hours and I think the doc'll let you out. Maybe even before that if you don't, y'know, drive him crazy."

The Primeling rolled his optics in slight aggravation but he did seem somewhat appeased now. Unless Daily was imagining it, he swore he also looked disappointed about not being able to drive the medic up the wall for some shameless giggles. Oh sure he could probably still do it, but it would only serve to lengthen his medical probation so to speak. Of course, knowing Infernus, that wouldn't exactly deter him from making the attempt...

All eyes and optics turned to the entrance on hearing the roar of an engine fast approach. In a squealing of tires and laughter the absent Bluestreak returned, Jack and Miko jumping out of the driver's and passenger's seats respectively. Both teens were laughing and somewhat breathless, eyes sparkling. Out of the two it was Miko was the most hyped up.

"Blue, you are flippin' crazy! That was awesome!" Miko shouted. "Woo-hoo! Gimme five, mech!"

Bluestreak looked down curiously at the spunky Asian's extended hand. He soon figured out what she wanted. Kneeling down, he put his own hand out just high enough for the girl to jump up and hit his open palm with hers. Satisfied, Miko whooped and darted off, the gunner grinning after her as Jack shook his head.

Infernus smirked at the sight but remained silent. It was good to see everyone in a good mood even if that good mood didn't quite extend to him just yet. He'd be in a better mood if he could get up and move around a little – maybe get the dried Energon off him in the bargain. The stuff was cracking off him like a second skin, serving to make him feel like a snake and also agitate the spots where the welds were. Not enough to cause pain but enough to annoy him.

'I'm certain if you asked Ratchet nicely he would allow it. He understands you do not enjoy being immobile. It might also give him a better idea of how you are healing.'

"...Hey, Ratchet?"

Ratchet didn't even turn to face him as he replied: "If you're asking to be released, no."

"Aw, come on. Pleeeaaasee?"

The medic turned to look at him. And wound up regretting that decision instantly. What he found waiting for him was the biggest pair of puppy dog optics he'd ever seen from Infernus and possibly from anyone. Two big round orbs of baby blue were fastened on him like glue. Frustratingly enough he found himself unable to turn away. For one of the few times in his life, he let his spark do the talking instead of his mind. Some of the strictness in his expressed faded against his will. He had to remind himself that this wasn't the archivist he had befriended but a young student still learning. Here, he wasn't quite a "friend" per say but an authority figure to him, almost a Guardian.

He pressed a long-enduring hand to his forehelm. He knew he might regret this, but in the end he gave in to the emotional blackmail with a sigh. Perhaps he was being too strict with the youth. A little time in the open air; well, maybe it would do him some good. If nothing else it would keep him from pestering him for a while so he could finish the final calibrations on Daily's assault rifle. And so, despite his better judgement telling him not to, he went over and gently helped the Primeling off the medical berth and to his pedes.

"Just...don't strain yourself. Mr. Daily? Could you keep an eye on him for me and make sure he doesn't do anything that might exacerbate his injuries?"

Daily rose readily. "You got it. I'll keep him in line. If he tries anything I'll drag him over to the auto shop and have Neal give him a talking to. That or I'll hook him up to one of the Jeeps, drag him back to you in chains, and let you do the scolding. Y'know, either or. Whichever you prefer."

"Hey! Whoa! Whose side are you on here, Mark?" Infernus demanded.

Ratchet smirked. He officially liked the private.

"Go on. Get out of here. Both of you. Scram."


Daily had seen Rafael and Miko ride on the shoulders of their alien partners, but had never even thought about trying it for himself. So he was startled when, right as they exited the hangar, he felt himself plucked off the ground and placed on Infernus's right shoulder. He would've told him that the free ride wasn't necessary, that he could keep up pretty easy, but the boyish smile the other offered kept him from saying so.

"I think I owe you one for sticking around. I mean, you didn't have to. But you did."

"I thought we already talked about this. You don't owe me anything. Friends help each other out. Or, well, partners in our case, I guess. There's no payment system at work here. But if you're bound and determined to think of it like that, as a contract, then I'll pay you back with a good scrub down. Seriously, you need one. That robot blood drying all over you looks like it has gotta be uncomfortable."

"Heh. You have no idea. So...that means the auto shop, right?"

"Yep. Neal's gonna want an explanation as to why I hung up on him yesterday afternoon anyway. And like I said, guy's great with machines. Also, pretty sure he's got a soft spot for you. In an uncle/nephew sort of way. He's like the big daddy of the auto shop. You come into his place, you instantly get taken under his wing. No exceptions. The auto shop's just one big crazy family – with Neal in charge. They don't always get along, (because duh) but they make up in the end because, well, that's just what family does. You hug it out and you forgive each other."

The private saw Infernus wince, fully aware he'd unintentionally hit a nerve that hadn't fully healed – and probably never would.

"Sorry. I never really met him or even talked to him for that matter, but I'm guessing Optimus was like that too, wasn't he?"

"Yeah." Infernus replied softly, optics cast downwards, A faint smile inexplicably ghosted across his lip-plates as an even fainter little laugh escaped his vocalizer.

"What? What's so funny?"

"He likes your description of him. He...also wants to thank you for...y'know, helping me. He appreciates it. I do, too."

Daily smiled back. "Don't mention it. Friends look out for each other. That's all there is to it."


Infernus arrived at the auto shop hangar with his new partner to find a different scene than the one he had seen last time, yet at the same time it was familiar to him. Outside the hangar sat a heavily armored Jeep, its normally dark olive green body splattered in dried mud from the windshield to the running boards. Beneath its mud-caked body was a creeper, and extending from that creeper was a pair of familiar dirty military slacks – slacks that were getting dirtier with every passing moment. But the owner – busy humming a bouncy country tune – didn't seem to mind the muck. In fact, he acted quite oblivious to it.

The Primeling knelt and placed Daily back on solid ground, observing as Daily made his approached. Clearing his throat loudly, the private spoke:

"Hey, Neal?"

From beneath the Jeep, the humming stopped. "Markie? That you, son? Where the hell have you been?"

Daily shared a quizzical glance with his partner. Silently they agreed to tell him the truth one chunk at a time. Coming out and just saying outright that the Primeling had very nearly lost his life the other day might be a bit much for the gruff but kindly head mechanic to take in.

"Ah. Long story. But I brought a friend with me. Just, uh, when you get out from under there – try not to freak out. Okay? It's not as bad as it looks."

"...Alright." Neal answered, mounting wariness in his voice. There was something, an undercurrent, in Mark's tone he didn't like. It hinted at something...unpleasant.

With a grunt, Neal rolled the creeper out from under the Jeep. He raised a hand to shield his eyes from the glaring sunlight, blinking back the blinding beams as he sat up. When at last they adjusted to the light, his eyes went round in horror at the sight kneeling behind Mark:

It was Infernus. He was covered in a flaking, pale blue substance he could only guess was the Cybertronian equivalent of blood. And the welds – God, they were literally everywhere. The poor kid legitimately looked as if he had been sewn back together. His blue optics, normally vibrant and full of life and energy, were dull from what looked to him like exhaustion – exhaustion he seemed to be fighting. In his opinion Infernus should've been back in bed resting, not out traipsing the grounds.

"Sweet Mother of Christ! What happened to you?!"

Infernus's gaze dropped in mild embarrassment. Hesitantly he explained the source of the blue blood and the welds. He explained the search for Predacon "bones" so to speak had led them to Lerna, in Greece, where the Hydra had lived. They'd found one of its severed heads buried beneath the nearby lake bed at the site. But Starscream had obviously been led to the same place. A fight had broken out over the skull, and Starscream had fired two shrapnel-filled missiles at him in an effort to kill him. They had won the fight in the end and grabbed the skull for safe keeping, but he'd...well, things hadn't looked good for a while.

Neal was observant enough to note the hesitation. There something he was holding back.

Infernus continued. He was fine now though, really. Honestly. Sure, yeah, he was still sore, but Ratchet – their medic – said he was recovering pretty fast. He should be back to full strength by the end of the week. And yes, he did have his permission to be out here. He hadn't snuck out.

"You sure you're okay, son?" asked Neal. "Other than needing a nice hot soaking, o' course. You just look a little...harried if you know what I mean."

"I'm fine. Really."

Unless the two men were simply being over-observant, they swore that had come out a tad too fast. They shared sideways glances.

'He's hiding something. Any idea what?' Neal's sharp green eyes seemed to ask.

Daily shrugged imperceptibly. Whatever Infernus was hiding he doubted it was dangerous in any way. Being shot at point blank range by killer missiles, having the Grim Reaper knocking at his door for a while there...well, he was no psychologist but that might lead to a mild case of PTSD. No soldier was immune to it, not even million year old alien ones it seemed.

"Well, come inside and we'll get you cleaned up." Neal offered. "Now's your chance to meet some of the family."


The Primeling had barely managed two steps inside the massive hangar when:

"HOLY FREAKING MOTHER OF ALL THAT IS AWESOME!"

In spite of himself, Infernus jumped at the exclamation, taking a step back. That shout had come from a lean twenty-something-year-old Hispanic man with rich black hair and dark brown eyes. His blue optics looked down at the new human with a touch of wariness as if he expected him to jump up and bite his leg or something. This man reminded him all too much of an overexcited puppy – almost like Bluestreak had been given a dozen shots of espresso.

That shout had garnered the attention of many of the other mechanics. Men and women, young and old, pale-skinned and dark-skinned, all paused in their work to investigate the disturbance. Some smiled and waved at the towering arrival, others silently gawked. Two or three offered waves to Mark and their head mechanic, choosing to ignore for the moment the giant white alien standing in the entrance.

Neal simply laughed at the reactions. "Adrian, are you are your sister done with the detailing kit and the hose?"

"Uh-huh. You want 'em?"

"If you please. We need to get this E.T cleaned up. You wanna lend a hand?"

The man called Adrian grinned manically: "Totally! Let me go get Katie! Be right back!"

With that, he darted off deeper into the massive hangar. He returned less than a minute later with a large bucket of supplies and a Hispanic woman of similar age and appearance. Like him she had rich black hair and dark brown eyes though was more subdued in energy. It didn't take a genius to figure out they were brother and sister, possibly even fraternal twins. Out of the two, the woman seemed the more matured – in it that she didn't seem to be suffering a massive nerdgasm like Adrian had. But like her brother her eyes held that spark of childish energy in them.

"Alright. You kids head out back and get everything set up. I need to run and get something from my workstation. Be gentle with him, would you? He's hurt."


When Neal made his way back outside and to the south side of the auto shop, he was met with a sight that nearly made his heart melt. He'd seen many heart-melting moments with his nephews and nieces, but this – this was a sight that rivaled those because of the simple fact that there was a giant extraterrestrial robot involved. This was something that could only be seen in Area 51. He rummaged in his deep pockets for his cell phone and snapped a picture before he even consciously thought about it.

Lying on the ground in his dragon form (he'd have to talk to him about that; he honestly shouldn't be transforming with all those welds) while Adrian, Katelyn, and Daily ran around and on top of him was Infernus, the three humans laughing and shouting and drenched from head to foot. The two boys were busy trying to avoid a hose-armed Katelyn laughing like an evil villain from atop the Primeling's back. Infernus himself seemed to be egging on the water war by playing on the girl's side, slyly using one claw to trip Adrian as he ran to avoid the hose of doom. Daily heroically dove in front of Adrian to protect him and wound up getting sprayed in the face.

"You suckers'll never win! I got a dragon on my side! Muahaha!"

Infernus emitted a low sound from his chest that was obviously a chuckle. He used one slightly tattered wing to gently shove the woman, forcing her to lose her balance – and her grip on the hose. But she never fell off, for the other wing caught her and steadied her as another low rumble of a chuckle sounded from the pristine white dragon.

"Hey! Whose side are you on, dragon-bot?!"

The aging mechanic chose not to interrupt them. Instead, he leaned against the hangar's metal walls and watched them play, smiling broadly. Kids. You had to love 'em, no matter what species they were. Or how old. Here they were, a bunch of twenty-somethings playing like hyperactive ten-year-olds, a giant alien dragon playing with them like an older sibling.

It was little moments of innocence like this, so rare in a war, that convinced him the former Prime had made the right choice. Infernus, young as he was in Cybertronian terms, truly understood the concepts of love and family – the two things Optimus had reportedly held so dear. To be able to play and laugh in spite of his injuries just showed how committed he was to preserving those things. Perhaps that was because of his own youth, or perhaps it was some higher reason that only their Creator knew.

Whatever the real reason, the sight was something to be cherished. He didn't need to understand the aliens' spiritual beliefs to know that Optimus still lived within the heart of his successor. To Neal personally, he was in the breeze that cooled on a hot day, in the sunlight that streamed down on a clear morning, and in the soft moonbeams that turned the land silver and lulled a restless soul to sleep. He lived – within, and all around. You just had to shut your eyes and you'd feel him.

'Spread love wherever you go, Prime. Let no one come to you without leaving happier.'


Author's Note: :')

As a side not, school starts next week, so expect the updates to slow back to the way they were. And this is genuinely the first time in my life (well, second technically *shout out to Clear View!*) that I'm actually looking forward to school. And that's mainly to get away from my mom nagging me 24/7. Lady, I'm on break. For the love of Primus, leave me the frick alone so I can enjoy it. X(

Anywhoodle, yeah. Here's another chapter. Longer than the last one. I think. o.o There wasn't action here and there won't be for another chapter as poor wittle Infernus recovers from, you know, nearly dying. But you get to see he's picked up a thing or two from Blue about emotional blackmail. Ratchet may act the tough guy but he's really a big sweetie on the inside. He's shown that in the past. x3

And honestly, who wouldn't give in to Infernus's all-powerful puppy-dog face?