Chap 14
Territory
"Hey sweetspark, take a look out the front window, you're gonna wanna see this."
Barricade's voice brings you out of sleep slowly, the lack of urgency in his voice allowing you to wake without panic. Briefly, you're confused as to where you are, on these unfamiliar leather seats. Where was your warm nest of blankets and the comforting presence of a nearby Seeker?
Propping yourself up on your elbows, you rub your optics and feel your wing joints pop from their cramped position. Light peeks through your sleepy optics and the sickly orange colour seeping in through the window surprises you. With your curiosity peaked and brow ridge furrowed, you get to your knees unsteadily and peer out the front window.
True to his word, Barricade had woken you when the Rust Sea was in sight. Off to the left, just peeking out through some of the assorted foliage, is an aptly named wasteland of shooting geysers and acidic looking clouds. It's not a sea in the way you thought; there's no liquid anywhere that you can see. Instead, the Rust Sea is more like a desolate expanse of scary looking desert, with juts of rusted structures making the visual look the furthest thing from habitable. Plumes of smoke burst out of fissures in the surface, and the distinct lack of any vegetation makes it look even more alien than what you were expecting of a sea on an alien planet.
The contrast between the organic looking jungle and the Sea of Rust is huge. You're on the edge of the Wastes and the severe divide between here is life and over there is death is stark. Seems that Cybertron, like Earth, has many different ecosystems; some more friendly towards life and some decidedly against it. The visual of the Rust Sea, even from this distance, makes you feel uneasy. Like your body knows it's made of metal and it instinctively fears what can harm it. It reminds you of the common fears humans have, like spiders and snakes.
"Scary, ain't it?" Barricade's timbre brings you out of your thoughts. "No one's sure exactly how it started like that. Some say rust worms, some say poisonous oxide sharks, but no one knows for sure." Having his voice reverberate from around you started off as weird, but you're getting used to it. It's like surround sound or listening to someone speak with your ear on their torso. It starts low and rumbles through your whole body, but you remember your promise to yourself that you'll escape before you get too used to it.
"Any creature that lives out there is bad news. Not only does that acid eat through armour, but there're also monsters out there that would make it hard to recharge peacefully. I have old Decepticon coordinates on how to get through safely, but no way of knowing if they're still accurate." You shiver, and you notice that his voice takes a placating tone when he notices. "Don't worry little spark, this is as close as we're gettin'. We don't need to go through there to get to Kalis."
Watching the alien landscape go by, you're reminded of your history lesson with Starscream the cycle prior. (Had it really been only yesterday?) At the time you had been excited to arrive on Cybertron; the fear of being so far away from Earth and everything you'd ever known having been wiped clean by both brothers' nostalgic remarks of their past. It didn't seem so scary when they spoke of it with such reverence, like a living being. They made the voyage feel more like a field trip, or like accompanying a friend to their hometown you'd heard so much about. And it was true, in a way. Except the hometown, in this case, was a home planet and there was an entire race full of cultures and quirks and languages that you knew next to nothing about.
You'd heard passing mention of the Rust Sea, but didn't think you'd get to see it. The brothers had been pretty secretive about what they wanted to do once they arrived. Thundercracker's funeral (or whatever constituted a Cybertronian funeral) was a notably absent topic of their already vague plans, which you had chalked up to them not wanting to think about it. Even if they had shared a few stories about him recently, you didn't want to push it and make them sad by constantly bringing him up.
Now that you're here, looking at the scenery without them, the ache in your spark feels like a physical weight. You'd imagined setting foot on this new planet with your Seekers at your side, not in the middle of nowhere Cybertron trying to find your way back to them. There's a part of you that hopes they'll be proud of your efforts, of your planning on how you'll get back to them.
Deep down you know what they'd say. Starscream would probably say something along the lines of keep alert, you are a fearsome Seeker and don't forget it, and Skywarp would say something comforting like keep trying, and we'll be together again in no time. These thoughts give you a small sense of comfort, knowing that as long as you're motivated, you can get back to them.
The jungle is still pressing from around you, leaves whipping by as Barricade makes his way at terrifying speeds. It doesn't feel fast from the inside, but you can barely focus on anything you see outside before it whips past beyond your vision.
You wish you knew more about Cybertron before arriving. It would have helped your planning tremendously, or at least made you feel more confident before trekking out on your own. It's inevitable that you'll never be able to get back in one trip, especially since you haven't even had a chance to practise transforming discreetly yet. There's a nervousness that comes with thinking about camping out in an alien wilderness by yourself, but you'll do anything to get back to them. Whatever it takes.
"Barricade?"
"Yes, little spark?"
"How much longer 'til we get there?" The fact that you've literally stated the veritable slogan of annoying kid phrases is not lost on you, but it adds to your act. So far Barricade's been open to answering all your questions without getting suspicious, so you're eager to get as much information as possible before he catches on.
"Recharge a bit longer and we'll be there by the time you wake up." Looking out the front window, the sky is a dark purple colour despite the bright orange plumes. Does Cybertron have nighttime?
You nod sleepily, the previous exhaustion still present in your systems. Chirping softly, it would be easy to slip back into recharge. You hadn't felt it before, but without any space to flare your wings, they're starting to get sore. If the next time you wake up you can stretch, you'll be happy.
The rest of the drive is spent slipping in and out of recharge. Gone is the previous full body exhaustion that you'd felt after fighting Barricade tooth and nail when you realised he first took you. Whatever helm injury you had didn't seem like it was going to be a problem yet, but you were slightly worried that it would become something severe if left unchecked. It still felt a bit bruised, but Barricade wasn't making a big deal out of it, so you presumed it's not that serious. But you had no way of knowing if you were bleeding internally. Or maybe you're fine? The uncertainty made you wish briefly for Ratchet of all mechs; at least he would give you a detailed explanation of your presumed injuries. Even though he was bad, he was still a doctor. You could do nothing but hope it wasn't serious, or that it wouldn't be a problem later.
Idly checking your energy levels, you note that they'd gone down faster than you thought while you were recharging. Maybe your body focused extra energy on healing your injury? Did robots even have self-healing or did they need to go to a doctor for everything? And if they are robots, is a doctor different from a mechanic?
Your sleep-addled mind is a flurry of busy thoughts and pop up windows, making it difficult to concentrate on recharging. After trying and failing a few times, you use the tip of your talon to idly scratch at the smooth surface of the leather. You start with just lines, then a tic tac toe board, then you scratch it out. You're just about to start writing something when Barricade speaks up, his voice startling you.
"Would you quit scratchin' at my leather?" He sounds annoyed, and you immediately clench your servos into a fist, suddenly afraid. A small tremor makes its way up your spinal strut and you feel your finials pin back. You can't help your body's immediate reaction when any negative reaction is aimed your way. If Barricade gets mad at you, there's definitely no way you can fight back against a mech his size.
"S-sorry." You stutter softly, the fear making itself known in your voice.
Barricade groans, less annoyed and more concerned now. "'S not your fault. It jus' itches." You get the impression he'd be rubbing his helm sheepishly if he were transformed. The image doesn't make you any more comfortable. "Didn't mean to scare ya."
Try as you might, you can't change your body's instinctive reaction to shake whenever you feel vulnerable. Barricade might not be annoyed with you as you previously thought, but you're still reminded of the fact he could crush you easily if he wanted. You're still a little robot in a big robot world, and no matter how cool and new and interesting the outside world is, it's still dangerous. Barricade has made no move to hurt you so far, at least on purpose, but he's still kinda scary. Kidnapping aside, you don't want to be on his bad side.
What happened to your previous bravado? Without your Seekers at your back, giving you the courage to stand up to these big bullies, you're back to being the small weakling locked in a storage container. You didn't realise how much you relied on them until you were on your own, and the thought scares you as much as it depresses you.
Barricade seems to feel your sudden demeanour shift and sputters a bit with his vocaliser, but you don't catch what he's saying. Too wrapped up in your melancholy, you curl up tighter in the seat and shut your optics one more time. Maybe you can fall back into recharge and things will be better when you wake up.
You don't know how long you've been in the back seat, but when the outskirts of Kalis are finally in view, you've never felt more eager to escape the back of Barricade's cab and stretch your legs. You're unsure how long it's been exactly, your internal Earth clock having long since disappeared once you left Earth's atmosphere, and you're not sure how to tell time on this new planet.
Your wings are cramped after being unable to spread fully in the back seat, and you watch the structures outside the window grow in size at your approach. Trying to stop yourself from physically vibrating as Barricade slows down, you clench the seats briefly with your sharp digits before remembering his previous irritation. You don't want to make him any more annoyed than he already is most of the time, and while you pride yourself in your maturity, being yelled at feels terrible. Better to stay on his good side and keep up with the facade.
As you look out the window, you notice that the buildings are surprisingly intact from what you've come to expect from Cybertron. With only the ruins of the Crystal City and the Wastes as your comparisons, it looks almost inhabitable. As you pass the first few buildings on the outskirts, still overgrown with vegetation from the Wastes, you try to glimpse through the windows to see if anyone still lives inside. Both heartened and disappointed each time, you wonder if the Seekers would feel as bad looking at their home world so lifeless as you do.
Barricade is barrelling through without hesitation, with a confidence that there is no nearby enemy to combat. His tires crunch over broken glass and rubble alike, the sound fading to a din as you go deaf its consistent noise. His bold approach to Kalis is evident in his personality; he's a big tough Decepticon and there's not a whole lot of beings out there that can hurt him let alone kill him. You understand that he's being a bit more cautious with you aboard, but you've noticed that he sometimes makes reckless driving choices that would send Ratchet into a coma. A few extremely tight turns and a jump that made you queasy were necessary in your journey to Kalis, but he seemed to revel in his speed, even showing off in some cases. At each instance he has the forethought to warn you before he does something reckless, but your abdomen and helm still feel sore so you take it cautious. Better not make your injuries worse before you've had a chance to practise flying.
The worst part is that you can see some of the similarities between him and the Seekers, if you look closely. Mainly with how they all hold themselves with a certain confidence and with a sharp personality to match. There is still a lot about the war you don't understand, but you can see connections that wouldn't have been obvious previously. You chalk it up to a Decepticon thing. Maybe this Megatron guy was similar?
The purple symbol seen on Skywarp's wing was the Decepticon logo, you learn. The same symbol appears on Barricade's chassis when he is transformed, and while you didn't bring it up, it's hard not to recognize that all of the Autobots had a red symbol in a similar position. For beings that swear up and down that the war is over, why did they still feel the need to keep their symbols? Factions run deep, you guess.
Barricade had attempted a few times over the journey to endear himself to you, with mild success. A few times he had opened up conversation rather awkwardly, usually mentioning something about the landscape or the weather. When you don't respond the way he'd hoped, he grumbled a bit and fell silent for a while. But every now and again he'd mention something that caught your attention; like things called Sharkticons or Insecticons that sound so cool and alien that you forget you are on an alien planet yourself. During those instances, you could almost believe that you were just on a road trip with your weird, awkward uncle, only smack yourself internally and remember your mission.
His temper was the hardest thing to get used to. When he encountered something aggravating on the road, he usually yelled without warning, causing you to curl up instinctively. He had to stop himself a few times when that happened, usually quick to apologise or swear at himself, but you could tell he was doing it less and less once he realised the effect it had on you. Either way, it was something you were both getting used to, and there had been an equal amount of successes and failures along the way. His first instinct in any situation was definitely violence, and that only inspired your drive further to get back.
The travel time between the Crystal City and Kalis could have been hours or days, you're honestly unsure. But with how much you fell in and out of recharge, you suspect that this might be the second solar cycle of your kidnapping. Far longer than you'd like to be away.
Your black-clad kidnapper didn't speak as you entered Kalis. The buildings grew tighter on each side until the vegetation grew sparse, then disappeared entirely. The light of Cybertron's sun casts a warm glow on the buildings, but casts equally dark shadows, creating corners of foreign, scary looking places. You fight back a shiver.
The crumbling road winds until Barricade slows down more, eventually coming to a stop outside what looks to be a giant abandoned arena. He transforms as silently as he's able, the louder than expected sound continuing to echo in the silence of the dead city. Transferring you from his cab to his servo with a stiff grace, he surveys his surroundings and finally speaks.
"Well, Kalis ain't much to look at. But let's see if they've got any goodies locked away, hmm?"
You nod without looking at him. You aren't exactly sure what he means by goodies here, but you suspect that anything can be considered useful when you have nothing. You'd kill for a blanket from the nest, but you doubt that's the quarry that Barricade is after.
He transfers you to the ground, your small, shiny pedes a stark contrast against the cracked and gravel strewn surface. Barricade returns to his full height and approaches the arena-looking building. Waving a servo to draw your attention to him, he voices his actions with a gruff voice.
"I'm goin' to search around this Energon Storage Outpost. I won't be long, and you're welcome to come with, but it'll be quicker if I look alone. You stick around here and don't wander off, yeah? Unless you wanna join me?" His open servo is an equally open invitation.
Looking around at your barren surroundings, you shake your helm and try to give a trusting smile. "Mm-mm. No thanks, I'll stay out here."
His servo retracts and turns to face the main building. "Suit yourself. Don't go far, an' comm me if you need anythin'."
Giving a small wave you reply, suddenly tense. "Will do. See you later."
His broad back quickly disappears into the Storage Outpost, leaving you alone.
It's hard not to make comparisons, but you're grateful that he left you alone. You couldn't imagine either of the Seekers leaving out by yourself in the middle of a barren city, but then again, Barricade had given you the choice to join him. Maybe not the best kidnapping qualities, but if it helps with your task, you aren't going to complain.
Your first task: learn how to fly for real.
Looking around the ruined buildings, you spy a toppled structure that would work perfectly as a makeshift ramp. It's more than a few feet in the air, maybe two storeys up? And at the bottom is pure rocky concrete. Moving some of the sharp looking debris out of the way, you line up with the makeshift ramp and prepare for your first test run. If you can get some speed, maybe you can take off! Your theory is the longer you're airborne, the more likely your survival code will kick in and transform you into your alt-mode. In your worst case scenario, you can still activate your pede thrusters to slow your descent a little. It's definitely risky and incredibly terrifying, but in your mind nothing is more scary than never seeing the brothers again.
Shaking out your servos to rid yourself of any residual nerves, you take a running stance and take a deep unnecessary breath. Wings pinned to your back in an aerodynamic position, your pedes dig into the gravel and you lunge forward with a burst of speed.
You're faster as a Cybertronian, all gears and cogs specially designed for quick movement. Your human body, or what you remember of it, would never have been able to move this fast. The moment your pedes dig into the rocks, you're intrinsically aware of your body's natural design for speed. The realisation gives you an extra boost of bravery, spurring your energy forward, and angling your body to a more sleek position as you jettison up the ramp to prepare for your jump. The edge approaches quickly and before you lose your nerve you push off of your pedes with all your strength, lifting up into the air.
You focus on flaring your wings, squeezing your optics shut as you pray for your transformation to finally hit. But instead, the familiar feeling of gravity captures you, and you plummet towards the ground with equal, unflinching speed.
Activating your pede thrusters, you hit the ground somewhat painfully, though the reverse thrust takes the edge off. You skid, kicking up small plumes of dust, and the rough pavement scrapes your shiny finish. You land on your knees hard, scuffed but not bleeding. There's no leakage, but you don't feel good. It hurts, but not as bad as you feel on the inside. Another failure.
But you pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and assume the position again. Shaking out your servos in an attempt to get rid of your burgeoning nerves, you steel yourself. Another try.
Getting into position a second time, you ponder what went wrong in the first place. Maybe keeping your optics open this time will help? Something about seeing and visualising where you want to go sounds useful in theory, and you don't exactly have any other ideas. Shaking off your nerves (even more nervous the second time now that you know how painful the landing is) but you resign yourself to another try. Your plan is pivotal on the facet of you flying out of here, and you try to convince yourself that this pain is necessary for you to succeed.
Angling your pedes, you set off once again in a run, this time making sure to keep your optics wide and open. Approaching the ramp with less speed than the first run, you cast off in the previous way; wings spread, big jump, optics open this time. The surrounding buildings cast a shadow on your attempt, as if challenging your confidence.
This attempt leads to failure as well, gravity pushes on your body and your form refuses to shift. You land heavier than the first try. Your arm on the concrete first, hard, and your thrusters activate a touch too late to negate the impact as it did before. You roll once, residual momentum continuing to throw you farther out, and you land on a wing painfully. You don't even have a moment to suck in a breath before you cry out in pain.
Winded and upset, you lay on the ground for a moment and breathe heavily. You make no effort to move, too hurt both outside and inside to even want to continue.
Why can't you do this? Was your T-cog broken? You know you have one, the schematic made that perfectly clear. Is it something to do with the fact you weren't born a transformer? Why the frag can't you transform?
A few tears leak out of your optics and roll over your faceplate before landing on the dusty ground. Your cheek is steadily creating an imprint with the rocks of Kalis. It's so frustrating not being able to transform, especially now when you need to. Before, with the Seekers, it was more a matter of wanting to transform. Now it's a veritable need. You had imagined a hundred times the look on their faceplates seeing you transform for the first time, the ability to fly together being a fond dream. But with every failed attempt the dream drifts farther away into unattainable waters, leaving you drowning on dry land. You clench your servo tightly, tiny talons digging into your palm, adding to your growing list of pains. You must be the only Cybertronian, Terran or otherwise, that can't transform.
And if you never learn how, you'll never get back to the Seekers.
Closing your optics, you take stock of your injuries and go through your alt-mode files for what seems like the millionth time. The files are exactly how you last left them; with no information on how to access the program to begin with. To make things worse, there's even a timestamp with a date and time that cheerfully announces when you apparently already transformed for the first time? Which you legitimately have no recollection of. It's maddening to think that you may have already transformed once and you don't remember it at all. Stupid body, stupid survival code.
A small keen makes its way out of your intake in pain, the dull ache from your wing blooming into a steady pulse of discomfort, but you're thankful nothing seems broken. Giving your wing a small flex, the pain feels more like a bruise than break. You'll need a moment to rest before trying again, and your body wheezes its agreement with you. Propping yourself up on your elbows, the many areas of scuffed metal alert you to their presence, and you drop back to the ground on shaky limbs. Maybe just a few more minutes then.
The next thing you know is Barricade's voice, loud and obtrusive. Couldn't he see that you were trying to sleep? His stomps grow louder and shake the gravel that's embedded itself into your faceplate.
"Sparkling report! What happened out here?"
Groaning, you realise you feel terrible. And not flight sickness terrible, your outer shell feels like it took a beating. When did you fall asleep? Why were you on the ground?
Your memories take a second to flash in your HUD, and you groan a second time out of embarrassment. You only meant to rest for a moment before trying again, but it looks like your practice time is over. To make things worse, now you gotta come up with an excuse as to why you're in this position.
Slowly getting upright, a few rocks that had gotten lodged in your joints pop free and return to the ground. You begin to stretch, but the aches make it hard for you to lift your arms.
As you online your optics, you notice the shadows are longer around you, and the air feels cooler. How long were you out? A brief flash of your energy levels shows on your HUD, and you fight your instincts to keep your anxiety secret. Your energy levels read 30%, a steadily decreasing number that's ticking down faster by the cycle. It feels like a ticking bomb inside your chassis, steadily counting down until you offline.
"Uh…" You begin speaking, trying to get a good grasp on Barricade's current mood. He looks annoyed, which you've come to understand is his faceplate's default expression. His red optics shine over your body in a way that feels intrusive, like a scanner looking for imperfections. There isn't a doubt in your mind that he sees nothing but imperfections when he looks at you, especially right now. In his servo is a familiar cube of Energon, unopened and clenched in a vice grip. You idly note that if he squeezes any harder it will definitely shatter. The blue glow glints off his shiny black armour.
"I was…" You look around desperately. "I was playing." You pray to whatever gods might be listening that he doesn't press the issue.
Barricade grunts, obviously unimpressed and not buying it. But to your unimaginable relief he lets it slide and instead focuses on your injuries. "Playin' pretty rough, looks like." And you nod, relieved he's playing along.
"Well it's a good thing I found this then." He gestures to the cube in his servo, his grip significantly lighter on the glass. "Nothin' like a good swig to re-energize." He flicks the corner off in the same way that Starscream had done back in the cargo bay, and you realise with dread that the same events are about to play out.
You raise your servos as much as you're able to without wincing and try to explain. "Uh, actually…" Barricade takes a step forward regardless, the rocks on the ground jumping at his weight distribution. "I actually…don't drink Energon. Or at least, I can't drink it."
Barricade looks briefly perplexed, but doesn't stop his approach. "What're you sayin'? That makes no sense. C'mere, this'll fix you right up." He reaches his opposite servo forward with speed, picking you up before you can scurry away. His digits press against some of your painful spots, and your wings are compressed against your back in his fist. You struggle, terrified at the fact he's definitely gonna try and make you digest basically battery acid, and your shouts become more desperate.
"W-wait! Please, listen to me! I'm like a Terran, I don't drink Energon. It's bad for me, you have to listen!" Struggling harder, Barricade pauses contemplatively as if considering.
"Never heard of a Terran. Nice try, sweetspark, but you need this. I promise you'll feel better afterwards." He continues to bring the cube closer, causing you to shriek in alarm. You can feel a vibration build up underneath your plating, like a low but alarming hum. It's similar to an engine warming up, but in this case it's far more concerning than threatening. Panic surges in your helm and you can't stop yourself from the anxiety attack that's quickly making its way to you.
Upon hearing the frequency shift, Barricade almost drops you.
"Whoa, whoa! Don't crash, little one! Frag, I won't give you any, for Primus' sake." His grip even softens a touch, giving you the ability to heave out a few breaths. The Energon cube is removed from your periphery, to your relief. Your vision fogs around the corners of your optics, and your talons dig into your sides.
Suddenly breathless, you go limp in his grip, but still online. You've successfully managed to deter him, now taking a moment to bring yourself down from your panic.
Barricade takes a knee and waits awkwardly for you to speak. He almost seems nervous, which is weird for a mech of his size. A being so big concerned for a thing your size is almost comical, but he waits impatiently nonetheless.
You catch your breath, the fog in your mind slowly fading, and you turn your optics up to meet his.
"I don't-" You wheeze lightly, and his grip slackens even more. "I told you, I don't refuel using Energon. My body is different from yours."
His eyebrow ridge furrows, and his four optics look confused. A brief pause passes through the both of you, then the questions come.
"What d'ya mean different?"
You sigh, both from pain and resignation. "I wasn't created the same way other sparklings were. I was made by the Emberstone."
That causes his eyebrow ridge to rise. He's definitely heard of that.
"Y'mean that relic the Autobots were gonna use to fix Cybertron? You were made by that?"
His tone makes you tense, you've never liked how these Cybertronians put such an importance on how you were made. Sure, it's important for your refuelling, such as in this case, but now he's gawking at you more like a science experiment than a child. You're not sure which is worse.
Another sigh escapes you, but you nod. It's true, you were made by the Emberstone. You're not sure why that's so important, the Terrans clearly were made the same way and nobody's treating them like some coveted alien display trophy. Sure you're a bit different from them, with the information that you've been given, but it can't be too dissimilar since you all came from the same source. It's kind of unfair, those Terrans get all the luck.
You're able to get your arms out from where Barricade's grip had trapped them, and you throw your elbows over the sides of his digits. He's holding you like he'd hold a giant soda can, or a Cybertronian sized toy doll. You try not to let that unsettle you as you attempt to give off an aloof air. "You've never heard of the Terrans before?"
Barricade grunts, still a bit unsettled by the new information. "Can't say I've ever heard mention of them. They some kind of new Autobot?" His optics widen a fraction. "Are there others like you?"
You wince, old mental wounds making them known. You don't like being compared to others, but now it seems you're being put into the 'other' category. You already feel like a freak, now you're even more alien. An alien by alien standards.
"As far as I'm aware, I'm the only one like me. The Terrans refuel the same way I do, or so I've heard." And you haven't heard a lot about them, to be honest. Maybe one day if you ever make it back to Earth you'd be able to meet them. "The Autobots had a bunch of Emberstone charged liquid on the ship. That's what I refuel with."
You're taking a bit of a gamble, mentioning the Autobots and the ship to Barricade. Maybe if you can convince him to go back there, you won't need to fly out of here after all!
Your mood immediately sours at the look of frustration on Barricade's faceplate. He looks at the cube of Energon in his opposite servo and scowls at it.
"Y'mean this," he gestures to the cube, "is useless to you." You can feel the anger radiate off his frame. You hope it's not aimed at you.
Still a bit shaken, and now nervous at his drastic mood change, you give him a short nod. His scowl deepens, his sharp denta now peeking out past his lip plate. He clenches the cube hard enough that it cracks, but none of the contents spill.
Without another word, he tips the substance back into his intake and guzzles it down in a few short gulps. The blue liquid trickles down his chin and into his strong neck cables before he throws the cube at the ground angrily. It immediately shatters into flecks of shattered glass, and he wipes his mouth with the back of his empty servo.
You can see he's visibly upset; angry and doing his utmost to keep himself in control. He's not swearing or shouting like you expect him to, but that could change at any moment. After a few beats he looks down, his many red optics meeting your green ones.
"Then I-" He stops, gritting his denta. You have no idea what he's about to say and the tension in the air makes you nervous. Your servos clench together in an attempt to stave off your anxiety. In your nervousness you're unconsciously drawn to every tiny movement Barricade makes, in case he decides to turn violent. A twitch of his servo draws your vision, it clenches with such a strength that you can hear the metal creaking. Whatever he's trying to say, he's angry.
"Then we have to return. I cannot provide for you."
Your spark leaps. You scarcely believe his words. He'll take you back, willingly?
The anger he showcases suddenly makes perfect sense; he's upset with himself. The anxiety of his rage still doesn't leave you, but it lessens a bit. All this time he was convincing himself that this life was better for you, from his own perspective. He had assumed (without ever asking you directly, you note) that leaving the ship, the Seekers and the Autobots behind was better for you, until this refuelling realisation.
"Energon is one thing, there're bound to be caches left over from the war if you know where to look." He looks frustrated and you have to stave off your excitement from his next words. "But the Autobots have the Emberstone, and without this Embertstone liquid you're telling me about you'll slip into stasis." He looks into the distance in the direction you drive in.
"Listen sweetspark, if you were starving and you needed refuelling, I'd cut open one of my own fuel lines to provide for you. But you don't need that, and I don't have what you need. So for your best interest, we gotta go back." His servos creak under the pressure of his words. Every word he states is spat out like a bitter liquid. "But don't you think for a second I'll let those slaggers mistreat you, hear me? You're important, and you deserve to be brought up right."
You're a bit taken aback by his words. Barricade has never been one for open honesty, and his tense, awkward wording proves that he's speaking the truth. He cares about you, your survival. Which is weird, considering he took you from the Seekers in the first place; the place where you felt the most safe. You almost want to cry at his declaration. He's brash and clearly not used to children, but you can tell he's trying his utmost regardless. Even after everything you've been through in the past cycles, he's never done anything to harm you physically. He may not be very communicative, but these words come from his spark; you can tell.
There's still a hesitancy there, when he admits he'll have to bring you back to the Autobots. No mention of the Seekers, you notice, and you're too hesitant to bring them up in case it makes him change his mind. You'll stick with the positive outcome you've been given, and you won't push the issue further.
Your wings raise as much as they're able in cheer, and you try not to let the relief show on your face. Maybe at the end of this, you'll have one more weird uncle to watch your back until you're normal again.
"But don't think for a breem that I'm leavin' you alone with those slaggers. We're probably headin' back into a firefight what with how we left, but we ain't got no choice. You need that stuff, and we can't afford to wait." His optics meet yours once more. "An' your energy levels ain't doin' so hot, am I right?"
You shake your helm, unable to stop your intake from opening slightly at his quick decision making. Was it that easy? You just had to tell him about your odd refuelling tendency? If you'd realised this sooner, you'd have told him in the cab ride leaving the ship and saved you a couple cycles of distance.
"We've got a problem though." His words fall over you like a bucket of ice water. "There's no way you have enough charge for us to make it back to the ship in time before you run out." He taps a digit from his empty servo against his helm, the sound it makes is a depressing clink. "I can tell."
Part of you wants to shrug, you've been brought to the point of zero energy before, and you woke up just fine. So long as he makes it back to the ship with you in tow, you don't see there being an issue.
Except for the fact that the last time you passed out from lack of refuelling you woke up with a bunch of important memories missing. It's still unsure whether the memories were being erased before you slipped into stasis or during, but either way it's not a risk you want to take again.
Barricade seems to sense your unease, and he lowers his servo to give you a pat on the top of your helm. It's incredibly delicate, taking an enormous amount of concentration, and it miraculously doesn't hit any of your sore spots. Maybe Barricade was a good guy after all?
"With your…rough playing, your energy levels are gonna keep goin' down until you slip into stasis. Our fastest bet would be to cut through the Sea of Rust, but I told you before that I ain't riskin' that with you on board. 'Til then you gotta focus on conserving your energy as much as possible, you hear?"
Nodding, he gives you another small scritch. It doesn't feel bad, but it's rougher than the Seekers' pats. Barricade's servos are duller and full of scratches. His paint is still scuffed and matted in sections, but his digits are similar to callouses on a construction worker. Despite how big he is, he's still being incredibly gentle with you.
"Unless you got a better idea." This last part he mumbles, but you consider letting him in on your plan. It's a bit of a gamble, but if you tell him your troubles about your alt-mode, he might be able to help you. Sure he's no Seeker, but maybe a Grounder's perspective is just what you need. He transforms like it's nothing, and maybe he can give some advice? The concept of telling him is still stuck behind your glossa, and you can see that he senses your hesitation.
"Do you have an idea? Spit it out, then." A full nervous shiver makes its way up your spinal strut, and Barricade loosens his grip further as if feeling it himself. He's been open and honest with you so far, maybe you can trust him with your information. Taking a gamble, you activate your vocalizer and speak.
"D-do you think flying would get us back faster?" Your servos are clenched together so tight that your metal creaks and your tiny talons dig into your palms. The pause in between your words and Barricade's response feels like an eternity.
"I hate to break it to ya, but I shot 'Warp pretty good. An' I don't think Starscream would leave him alone with the Autobots in that state; 's why I shot him in the first place."
A sudden burst of fury flares in your spark at his confession. You hadn't clued into the fact that it was Barricade who caused Skywarp's painful shout, but this solidified it. You curb your rage as much as you can, focusing instead on clarifying your statement.
"I mean me." You say through gritted denta. "Me flying."
Barricade either doesn't address your flare of anger or he doesn't notice, focusing instead on your words. "You can fly already? I figured you were too small for that."
You shake your helm, frustrated and still shaking off your anger. "I can't transform. I've never gotten it to work. Well, I have once but I don't remember. But you didn't answer my question; if I fly back will I make it in time?"
Barricades ponders this. "I'm no Seeker, but you'd probably get farther faster than I would. Not because I ain't fast, but because you'd have nothing to avoid, yeah? There ain't no obstructions in the sky except other Seekers, or so I hear." But he shakes his helm vehemently, disagreeing with you. "It don't matter, you barely have enough charge to remain online for the next two cycles, let alone transform. The worst thing that could happen is you enter stasis while in mid-air and crash. There's no way I'd be able to catch you if that happens, so we ain't risking it."
You huff, agitated. It sounds like a risk you're willing to take, but not one that he's willing to let you try. You'd have better luck convincing him to bring you back to the Seekers after he personally shot them.
"But what's the issue? You can't figure out how to transform? That should be the easy part." You shoot him your sourest frown. His servo stops petting you and opens in a placating manner.
"Whoa, stepped on a mine there, did I?" Your scowl deepens at his response. It wasn't funny, this was your biggest obstacle to date! So many things could be solved if you just knew how to fragging fly.
"Listen, I can try an' get us back to the ship as fast as I can, but even I'm gonna need a rest at some point. Now I just refuelled," he gestures to the shattered remains of the cube on the ground, "So I'm still fine for a while, but when it's time to rest, I can help you out with your problem if you'll let me. I can't guarantee it'll work, but I'll only help you if you promise to recharge and take it easy for a while." Through his frustration, he leaks out a small smirk. "If you thought we were goin' fast before, just you wait."
You have no other choice but to agree. In the end, you get everything you wanted. And there's still time to come up with a plan to get you back to the ship before your time runs out. So you nod, and Barricade nods back.
"Let's get goin' then."
