Notes/ I had hoped and planned to write longer chapters in this one. And Ive been trying to do so. But alas, this chapter is just little on the short side I think. Still, it feels complete, so I stopped. Thank you again for the lovely positive feedback I'm getting so far. I'm seriously learning to trust myself to write what I feel I want to write because even when I worry I either went to far with a scene or just plain got silly, I still get positive comments. I'm learning that readers like fluff, and they like a little dark or graphic and serious. I like both, and I like to write a decent mix, which is what It seems I've been doing with this one.
The area surrounding the base of the largest sulfur mountain, was most often a windy place. Air currents descended fast, dropping over the distant cliffs and heated by a raging river of boiling oil and steam beyond that. And those currents crashed against the mountain and it's shorter neighbours, still supercharged from the heat with nowhere to go. The winds there howled and screamed, swirled and blew almost without end by virtue of the planet's geography and physics. The wind that blew there was, in general, an unusually warm one. But it was brought near impossible humidity, hot wet air whirring around in constant little whirlwinds, that stirred up the surface of the dusty ground, which would have caused constant dust storms had the dust itself ever been truly dry enough to fly for long.
Ratchet walked away from the ground bridge, and drove his vehicle form across the flat plain toward the highest of the mountains, through that endless wind. His tires slipped on the dust, and he struggled just to drive straight as a strong gust yanked his tail end to the left, and another not a second later yanked his front to the right. He transformed back to bot mode after that, and tried to walk as straight as he'd tried to drive. And the wind nearly knocked him flat to the ground more than once.
After a good while of struggling forward, and far from liking it, the old bot reached the mountain, which jutted up dramatically from the ground, at an immediately steep dangerous incline. And looking around him in the swirling wind he found the pathway he was looking for. It was burried under the dust just as well as onything else in that strange landscape. But still, he managed to identify a vague hint of hit, because he knew what it was he was actually looking for. Following the familiar path - made simply from the natural process of footsteps and tires moving over the ground in one place repeatedly over time – he came to a large sliding door, blended almost entirely into the surface of the sulfur mountain. A gust stronger than any before picked up, it seemed from out of nowhere. And Ratchet banged a fist against the heavy locked door, only hoping his banging might just be heard over the howl of wind all around.
His heavy knocks were greeted at first by nothing at all. And he tried again, just slightly louder, waited a few long moments, tried it again, and thought of turning around to leave . But still, he knocked again, just one more time, a few hard fast knocks. And finally he heard the distinct noise of loud footsteps, belonging to a very large and heavy bot, approaching the door from the other side of it.
"Your visit is once again unannounced, medic," Shockwave said evenly, revealed in the doorway as soon as the heavy door slid open.
"Well I can't exactly call and let you know I'm coming by," Ratchet chuckled under his intakes, mildly cautious as even in the face of a bot long known for being slightly less then predictable. "You've still got no comms set-up of any kind. You're unreachable out here all alone."
"That is still precisely as I like it," Shockwave retorted. He snarled frustration under his own intake, but all the same he extended a hand and gestured back into the living structure behind him, inside the mountain. "Come inside then. No logic in standing at the door while the entryway fills up with blowing dust.
Ratchet had been invited into Shockwave's home only a couple of times in the past several years since Shockwave's defection. And it had been a considerable amount of time since he'd last been there. Still, he remembered the place just well enough to be quite certain that not a thing inside the small and sparsely furnished living space had changed at all.
"Well then," the old medic said, with a chuckle of laughter and then a sigh. He opened his storage compartment and puled out a decent sized glass container, which he held out to his fellow bot of science. "A gesture of friendship!"
"What is it?" Shockwave demanded. He moved as though he was about to grab the container quickly, and quite possibly inspect the contents closer in his obvious suspicion. But he pulled his hand right back again instead, and just glared a moment with his strange single optic.
"Decent quality high grade energon," Ratchet answered. He set the contain down on a small worn out table, and realized only when he did, that the table could easily tip over and fall any time because of a couple of bent legs. He huffed loudly and chuckled again. "Well aged and flavoured with a good hint of refined cobalt and copper. Much better than that sludge so well known as 'homebrew,' among Decepticons."
Shockwave wandered toward a set of a few small cupboards low to the floor across the room. And he stood up again quickly holding a couple of drinking containers, With some clear hesitation, and in obvious suspicion that was surprising from him, he slowly poured drinks, offering one quickly to the old medic-bot.
"I will admit to liking this," Shockwave said slowly, after he'd taken a drink from his own container. "I am curious however as to where you might have found this. To my knowledge no decent high grade is sold on Cybertron to this day."
"This is one I made myself," Ratchet explained. And he chuckled again, reflecting out loud, "You're right I'm sure. Nothing truly decent yet. I've been approached recently, by a couple of the few bots who know anything of my still almost secret hobby of home brewing. They've suggested I might go commercial with it. Start up an operation slightly larger then a simple in-home set-up... make enough to sell a steady supply. I thought about it for all of a minute. This fragging city already has enough trouble all thanks to public drunkenness and easy access..."
"I see," Shockwave said back. The tone of his voice showed his complete disinterest in the city and anything that happened within it.
"I'd like to extend an invitation to you," Ratchet said after a moment. "To a party..." given Shockwave's well known disdain for anything outside his own work, he knew well that just to invite him at all was pointless at best, and potentially a bad idea at worst. But still he had to try because he had his reasons, as he always did.
Shockwave, quite predictably raised his head in near baffled surprise, as he took a couple of steps backwards. Slowly, in a tone of utter confusion and disdain he questioned in frustration "a party?"
"A small evening event for the hospital," Ratchet explained. He shook his head just a little, and chuckled again just slightly amused. "The whole thing was mostly Arcee's idea to start with. We've set the goal of setting up a youngling ward, a unit stocked with proper youngling sized equipment, lots of windows for light, a small playroom... Arcee suggested the event to simply stir up some interest, and gather public donations for a cause most will surely believe in." Ratchet paused a second, chuckling. "I gotta admit it's a pretty neat idea. There'll be some live entertainment... performance" opportunities for a couple of up and coming talents among the refugees. Anyone who's anyone in the new city will be there..."
"I do not attend parties," said Shockwave. His tone was even as ever. "Such events are a needless waste of energy and time – though I do agree that the final goal is logical." He took another drink from his container, and with some apparent hesitation, he spoke again. "You did not come here simply to invite me to this event of yours..."
"No, I did not," Ratchet agreed quickly. "I wished to update you on the status of the cybermatter project. It is still partly your own work after all."
"Your consideration surprises and confounds me."
"I'm ready to put the stuff into bot trials. We've seen it work before. And after a few years to perfect it far more yet, I think it's time we knew just what it can really do for our world."
"I can assume you've tested it well on scraplets..."
"Repeatedly. Though I can't say I've even become close to comfortable with the very thought of having those critters around, even an isolated few at a time for experimentation... The tests were stepped up, after I saw how cybermatter brought a bot back from immanent death by his own processor trying to destroy itself."
"Cybermatter was never intended to be a tool of medical science," Shockwave answered at once. And his tone was one of sudden anger now, and right out of nowhere at all. His rage lead him to bang a fist against the rickety table heard enough to set it wobbling, before he turned to glare down the medic, with his red optic flashing his disdain. Slowly he took one long step forward and growled, "it was constructed initially to be used as a weapon of war!"
"You knew what I was doing since the day you surrendered your part of the work," Ratchet argued back. But somehow, even in the face of such anger from such a large and known violent bot, he kept is cool perfectly. Slowly he moved to held both hands in front of him in a gesture of accent. "You always knew full well I was not exactly building weapons with it. Ever since the day an Autobot fell into that cybermatter pool, and not only survived but returned to life repaired of something I could never hope to fix, I saw potential that everyone had clearly missed!"
"That Autobot went on to quickly kill Megatron," Shockwave fumed, still glaring.
"Yes. And that ultimately led to an and end to the war!" Ratchet replied, shouting back now, if only to fully drive home his point. Shockwave had never exactly wanted a war at all. He wanted to fight for a faction perhaps far less than even Soundwave. They, like countless others had been forced into battle, at first with little foreseeable choice. The same was true for both sides of that war that nearly destroyed their own planet. "Centuries of endless battles. Younglings born only to be made soldiers figthing for a faction ebcasue we told them our own side was right. They never understood what they were even fighting for at all. And any my age had all but forgotten! I don't condone brutal killings and sneak attacks. I'm an autobot. Bumblebee sure as the pit would never condone it either. An act like that, was surely the most violent and brutal thing that young bot has ever done. But we could hardly just exist forever in this never ending energon shed as bots will little hopes of any true futures! And don't forget that Megatron did come back, even if he is in self imposed exile..."
Ratchet's tirade had grown louder and louder with ever word he spoke. But by the time he'd gotten to the very last sentence of it, his voice had dropped in volume until it was suddenly close to whispering. And anger greater than any he'd felt before in the entire course of the conversation flooded his processor, and his vision flashed a second into blackness because it it. Opimus Prime was offline, while Megatron, through some cruel twist of fate was still more then likely very much alive. The thought had come to him before. Of course it had. But he'd always managed time and again to stifle it under a flurry of his work. Suddenly he felt like smashing something, and through only his years of self discipline, he managed to force back his terrible resentment.
"You will need a bot to test the cybermatter on," Shockwave said. His voice was perfectly calm and even once again, and he spoke with obvious interest again in the original topic of discussion. His comment dragged the old medic back from his own sudden rage, and for that Ratchet was instantly relieved. "Surely no damaged bots have been left to live... with the exception of Knockout, and he was an unusual case."
"You truly have no idea..." Ratchet mused. Because Shockwave, who seemed to venture out into the city perhaps three times in a year for needed supplies, truly could not have known anything of the bots that lived there, most from ships filled with refugees. And he'd met only a tiny few of anyone at all, and them only because they happened to sell the goods he needed.
"I can only imagine you'll look for a profoundly damaged bot who will volunteer. It will be one who trusts you already," Shockwave said. His tone strangely, sounded almost slightly amused – if not at the same time doubtful. And slowly, his doubt turned to almost blatant mocking as he continued speaking. "You would never simply choose one from among your patient case load and leave them no choice... That is just not the Autobot way."
"No, it isn't," Ratchet agreed. He chose to brush off the mockery and completely ignore it. Slowly, he explained, "I haven't got a volunteer yet. But I have someone in mind."
"You will... keep me posted regarding your progress?" Shockwave questioned. And in his tone it was more than obvious just how much he was still invested in the project that he had once worked, if only because he truly was a dedicated bot of science, far more than he was ever the battle lusting killer that the war had tried to make of him.
"I will," Ratchet promised, nodding. And he paused then a second, finishing his drink before he went on. "I can however do you one better still. Come and work with me for at least a short while. Any day now, my own science laboratory will be competed. Work with me there like I once worked with you in yours. I have a young student who may well love the chance to..."
"I have no interest in working inside that place," Shockwave snapped, dismissing the offer at once. "No interest in deal with your student. I have work of my own. And with your working fully on the cybermatter project, I've been fully free to pursue it again."
Again? Ratchet knew by Shockwave's choice of a single word, that project he spoke of was in some way a familiar one.
"Shockwave," he demanded, fearing he understood before he even asked him about it. And he questioned to himself at the same time whether fear was really the right reaction to have if indeed he'd guessed right when he imaged exactly what 'work' his fellow scientific had spoken of. "What in Primus' name are you up to now!"
"I don't answer to you," Shockwave countered evenly. But still in his tone there was an unmistakable mix of mockery and pride. "My understanding of the entire of the war agreement, was that it gave us equality as Cybertronians. We are both just simple scientists now. Still, as a fellow in our field, allow me to show you my work."
Ratchet, stunned but certainly put well into his place, and feeling at once like indeed he might have overstepped in trying to demand a thing, followed Shockwave across the small room and to a closed door he had barely given a thought to before. The door slid open when the bots stood in front of it, adn Shockwave led the way through it and into a room beyond. This room, Ratchet saw at once, was much bigger in scale than the one they had stood in conversing and had just left. He realized, to his shock, that this one – clearly the primary scientific laboratory in Shockwave's mountain facility, had been dug under a large part of the mountain that stood high above them. He imagined then that the mountain itself was hollowed almost entirely inside to make way for the magnitude of Shockwave's work.
Leading away from the sliding doors, directly across the huge room and against the farthest wall, was a large computer set up. A deck, a chair, a couple of over sized monitors, and a keyboard to type on. That in itsef was hardly too interesting, and Ratchet's optics traveled away from that at once because of it. Quickly the old bot's gaze landed on a row of large tanks lining a wall, and then on the next row that lined the wall opposite. He counted fast in his head. Twenty in total. He counted again and realized, in his panic and excitement, and his shock he had miscounted. Twenty two. Eleven per wall. Yes that was right. And in each tank, filled to the top with blue glowing refined energon, floated a familiar shape, recognizable almost as a creature.
"Predicons!" Ratchet gasped. And he found that his fear of a moment before was replaced mostly by amazement. Still, this didn't stop him from falling nearly over his own feet, in a careless backward step as he spoke.
"The majestic species deserves the same chance as the rest of us to exist on this restored world," Shockwave replied. And the pride and conviction in his voice was more than obvious now.
"Cybershock," Arcee called to her youngling, who was at present, playfully skipping about on the rocky ground well past the edge of the city, and wandering steadily further from her carrier while she did so. "Stay close to me, please."
"Oh-kay Mama," Cybershock answered. And she hurried over quickly.
Reaching up happily to grab her carrier's hand in hers, she swung it back and forth while she rocked a little on her heels, growing restless in seconds of trying to stand in one place. Arcee chuckled, smiling down at her child.
"Mama... where's Daddy?" the little one asked, curious.
"Working."
"Did he have a 'mergency?"
"I hope not!'
"But Daddy's a medic... medics do 'mergencies!" Cybershock's tone was one that said so clearly that she thought she was right and could hardly see how she could just be wrong, at least partly.
"They do, yes," Arcee explained with a chuckle. And she laughed a bit more as she remembered quickly that she'd before, more then once to explain the very same thing. "But it's much more than that. He's probably filing data pads..."
"Sounds a bit boring..."
"It sure would be sometimes."
"Mama," Cybershock continued to rock on her heels, as she held her carrier's hand. "Who we waitin' for out here?"
"A very good bot I used to know," Arcee answered, still smiling. She looked out for a moment over the flat landscape and toward the jagged hills in the distance, watching for a ship that still showed no sign of approaching. "He once helped to lead the Autobot army. He taught me how to shoot straight...taught me that sometimes advantages in battle come from being small, if only I just kept on driving fast enough... Now he's coming home to Cybertron to be a police-bot."
""I'll get ta meet him soon?"
"You sure will."
"Hey.. Mama...?"
"Yes, Cybershock?" Arcee looked down again at her child, giving her her full attention, slightly ammused but mostly concerned, at the tone of nervous questioning she suddenly heard in the youngling's voice.
"Daddy told me dis morning, I'll be gettin' some new parts vewy soon..." Cybershock said.
"You will be indeed," Arcee answered, with some hesitation, which she tired hard to hide from her voice.
The process of rebuilding and upgrading a youngling bot's frame, was one that happened more than once in the lives of every young Cybertronian. Their processors developed and learned more and more in the way of movement and strength, and as they did so, little bodies wanted to do more and more. Joints and often entire limbs wore out rapidly in the process of all that. And besides younglings started so tiny, and frames themselves, of course did not get any bigger. Cybershock had replacement parts already – enough of them that the changes would replace about half of her frame in total, as was typical. And the parts were stored neatly and well oiled in Ratchet's workshop.
"You'll certainly be taller," Arcee explained, thinking with mixed emotions, of the lower legs that had been well constructed, with arms to match up perfectly in proportion. And she leaned down to pick the youngling up, a little sad as she did, at thinking of how soon the little one would be somewhat heavier, and therefore held and carried far less. She'd planned to explain it all, long before then. But she could never work out quite how exactly, and she felt silent relief at Knockout having brought the topic to the little one first. "You'll certainly be able to run faster... and jump a bit further..."
"Oh-kay," Cybershock said. And it was clear enough from her tone, and the easy shrug of her little shoulders, that she accepted the news just fine, at least in the moment.
"Look, Mama look!" she exclaimed a moment later, bouncing with excitement in her creator's arms. Cybershock pointed up into the sky in the direction of the far off hills. "A ship! A ship!"
The ship the youngling had spotted was a small sliver painted and heavily armoured scout craft. And it approached fast, swinging from left to right hard in well controlled wide motions, in order to slow it down as it come closer to the ground. Booster rockets activated underneath it, pushing the small ship up into the air just a little at a time and repeated in tiny busts as it continued to fall toward the planet. The youngling, still in her carrier's arm's, and clinging' now to her right shoulder panel in excitement, watched carefully as the ship went on descending. And only when it finally touched the ground a few hundred metres from them and perfectly safe, did she let out the intake she's been holding in. Arcee jogged quickly toward the ship, still carrying her child, as the ship's door slid open upwards at its front.
"Ultra Magnus!" she exclaimed to the large and mostly blue and white bot that stepped immediately from the ship. "Welcome home."
"Arcee," the newcomer answered civilly and polite. Her looked her over, with an expression of a bot who almost didn't recognize her at all. "You are looking well. A world now without war has been good for you."
"It's been good for us all," Arcee smiled, chuckling. "And thank you."
"I never thought I'd ever see the day. You, a carrier." Ultra Magnus was not a bot known to smile over much of anything, if in fact he ever did so at all. But he smiled then at the youngling in Arcee's arms, and the youngling happily smiled right back, waving.
"Her name is Cybershock," Arcee said proudly. "One of a couple of bots I love most in my life."
"My Mama says you here ta be a police-bot," Cybershock said, clearly more than delighted to speak to this new bot she was meeting only for the first time, just like she'd known him all her life. She paused for just a second and made a face of sudden disdain, before she exclaimed loudly before he could even answer to her first comment, "that's good news. Bots are saying the city is going right to the pit... prob'ly 'cause the cops are corrupt!"
"Cybershock!' Arcee exclaimed in shock. She turned a little, in embarrassment to look at the returned Autobot. And quietly she muttered, "I'm terribly sorry..."
"Intelligent kid you've got," Ultra Mangus replied. Somehow he was still no less than amused by the youngling, despite his well known reputation for a no nonsense attitude toward anyone.
"Thank you," Arcee said again, while she bent to put the youngling back down, standing, on the ground.
"I'd wondered as I flew closer to the planet, who it was that would come to meet me."
"I kinda volunteered," Arcee explained. She looked down at her youngling, gestured toward her a little with her optics and chucked again. "Well, we volunteered."
"Well then, thank you both. I've read in the report sent on ahead to me by Bulkhead that you are no longer officially an Autobot officer... Though from what I read it seems no one would ever knew the difference."
"I'm an early educator in the youngling centre. Doing a job I dearly love. But it's just so hard to ever think of trying to stay away from work on base. I served for centuries..."
"And you served well," Ultra Magnus said seriously. Once again he smiled at the youngling before he looked back up again. "I always was secretly just a bit disappointed that you never chose to join the wreckers. You were one bot I knew well could have done it easily. But still, no matter where you chose to serve, your spunk and your talents were wasted on the war. I suppose that`s true for so many Cybertronians."
"Yourself included in that, Ultra Magnus. You'll make a great head of the police force."
"Well," the large heavy bot actually chuckled just a little, once under his intake. "I always did say, if only to myself, that if ever this fragging war could hurry up and end before we were all destroyed, I'd enjoying trying my hand at law enforcement. I welcome the challenge."
"We could sure use your help," Arcee told him. She stood a moment on the rocky rough ground, just shaking her head. "Cybershock is right. The city's going right to the pit with violent crime and dangerous behaviour. She only said that because she hears all of us say it far too often, of course."
"You can give me the ground tour of this new city you're building soon enough," Ultra Magnus answered back. And he actually laughed just a little for a second time before he looked down again at the youngling. "First I'm pretty well convinced that Cybershock here would just love to see how my ship really works."
"Cooooooooooooool!" Cybershock yelled loudly in reply. Something she'd more than likely learned from Miko on their recent Earth visit.
"The... uh.. news is true then regarding Prime's passing?" Ultra Magnus stopped in the middle of walking back to his ship with Arcee and a very exited Cybershock hurrying behind him. And he looked down again, almost staring right at the ground, as he questioned.
"It is. He... he died a hero to his poeple. Not just Autobots but entire shiploads of refgees... The world has a real chance because of his selfless act."
"Hey, you alright?" Speedbreaker quiestioned. She came out of nowhere. Or at least it appeared so, as she had no been standing there a second before and suddenly she was. The medbay doors slid closed behind her though, and that make it more than obvious that she had walked out from inside.
"Fine, fine," Firestorm answered, quickly, looking up from where she sat, on a bench outside the medbay. "Ah'jus bit'tired..." Tired she knew was likely an understatement, she reflected in dismay, realizing she must have dropped, at least for a second, into light recharge while sitting alone on the bench. That, she realized quickly was exactly why she hadn't seen Speedbreaker until after she'd spoken.
"What brings you here?" asked Speedy after a second. She sat down next to Firestorm on the bench. And slowly her expression turned from light sparked to concerned. "You aren't in need of medical attention, are you?"
"Ah'waitin' fa'Ratchet..." Firestrom waved off the concern at once. "He 'call'd me in... says'he wan'ed ta'talk'ta mee...
"Did you get any recharge at all last night?" Speedbreaker questioned, concerned again. And Firestrom realized only then just how tired she must actually have looked.
"'Course'Ah did. Some enn'way..." she answered, still smiling despite her tiredness. "Ah'was awake alot, tryin'a help Soundwave... "He'ad a nigh'mare 'a'somethin.' Woke'up terrify'd but'did'nt ee'en ra'memba why. It.. it seem'd ah-kay, den it happned'gain... Does'n help'eitha dat he'jus had' he secon'ov'is, optic op'rations, jus' yes'ta'day..."
"The war for Cybertron broke so any of the bots that fought it," Speedy said. "Either faction. Doesn't matter. "You've heard Arcee talk a bit before about Knockout, and his constant flashbacks in recharge when they first started out together. And only recently she started the talk about a couple of her own... No one hears anything of this, so please, please don't say anything, ever. But 'Bee has the very same kind of trouble far more than a bot ever should..." She paused a moment, and sat leaning forward, hands resting palms down on her knees, and a sad, determined look on her face-plate. "There's no cure for the trauma of war, or of anything else in life at all really. And Soundwave's obviously terrible issue with medics are hardly a secret to anyone by now. That's only gong to make matters ten times worse. It's a terrible thing for a bot as young as you to deal with – especially when you do it by choice..."
"Yu' really'say all'dat 'cause Ah'm young? Or 'cause Ah'm damaged?" Firestorm asked, her emotions suddenly mixed entirely, and many of them seeming to conflict directly with others. She leaned forward on the bench herself, and though she did try hard to do anything but, she found herself beginning to glare with a sudden air of defiance. "Ah dun'tink Ah'm enn'y younger'tan yu. Jus' smalla!"
"Firestorm..." Speedy said, her voice quiet and the tone of it so clearly almost horrified. She reached a hand out toward the smaller bot, letting it rest finally on her right arm. "I didn't mean..." She paused for a long moment. And it appeared she was carefully considering exactly what it was she wanted to say. Finally, she spoke again, in a tone that was entirely respectful, through still so bluntly honest, in well known 'Speedbreaker fashion.' "Most of us will probably always want to protect you more than most other bots. Not because we want to, and not because we try. But because it's in our nature to recognize damage and... I'm not sure what makes it work. It just does I guess. I should not have said what I said, blamed and it on age, because you're right. It wasn't." She looked down then toward the floor. Her horrified expressed turned quickly to regret.
"Iss' a'righ," Firestorm said quickly. A little smile came to her face-place again and she fully meant it. Looking staight at the other bot, she understood that she too was tired, if not almost exhausted. Chasing her youngling would surely explain and excuse that. She had her own job still of course as well. And carrying not one newspark, but two of them on top of that? "Ah'tink Ah`get'it."
"So, why Soundwave of anyone?" Speedy's question was purely curious instead of asked at all in judgment. And Firestorm know that at once.
She just sat quiet a moment and then a moment more, thinking and thinking on how exactly she could answer that because she'd had to try before. Slowly she looked her fiend in the optic's and smiled, questioning back simply, "Why 'Bee fa'yu? Why Arcee an'Knockout... or ya creators?"
"The first thing Soundwave ever did, when I ran into him once on base for the first time, was scare me half to death. I'm sure he did it on purpose. The way he was behaving then... not like any normal bot would, and I couldn't ever put a finger on what it was so out of place. I used to think he was terrifying, and even now I'm not sure my opinion's honestly changed all that much in general."
"He'try'ta scare'mee too," Firestorm was quick to answer. And a smile came to her face-plate as she did. "Yea... he'did'it on purpose. 'Ah'geuss he'thoug'he had'ta. He's not'like otha'bots. Doesn'know'fully how ta'be... But'watchin'him tha'day, Ah'jus' thoug'he strong... beau'i'ful..."
"You really do know what you want," Speedy said slowly. And she smiled then with a look of understanding and realization. "You both do..."
Firestorm only nodded then in reply, smiling right back just as brightly as ever.
The medbay doors behind the bench and to the left, slid open again suddenly. And a bot that Firestorm thought she recognized as Ratchet's newest student stepped out into the hallway. To stop the door from closing again, he jammed it with his foot to hold it open.
"Firestorm?" he questioned carefully, looking right in her direction. And when she nodded confirmation, he continued on quickly. "Ratchet would like to see you now in his office."
"I guess I'd better get back to work," Speedbreaker said, standing up quickly.
Firestorm, grew at last slightly nervous, as she followed the medical student toward the small office close to the front of the medbay. Because of course she never did have a clue as to what it was she'd actually been called in for in the first place. And no bot liked to be summoned to medical.
She was surprised, when she finally reached the office – pushing her walking frame in front of her, while she walked beside the medical student – to find not only Ratchet inside, but Knockout and Bumblebee as well. Ratchet dismissed the student that had brought her in, with a second of casual discussion and a request for him to bring energon to patients on the ward. And then he turned slightly in the chair behind his desk, politely inviting Firestorm with a light wave of his hand, to step into the office. She sat down, with some growing hesitation, in the empty chair he gestured to in front of his desk.
"I asked these two to meet with us as well because I can guess you might just end up with questions for one of them, or both." Ratchet nodded toward 'Bee, sitting in a chair near the one she'd sat on, and Knockout, parked on his cart backed awkwardly into the only tight corner it seemed able to fit into.
"Wh... wha's happen'd?" Firestorm asked slowly. She struggled a bit more then she should have, with folding her walking frame to save space in the small office. She was downright nervous now and could not ever trying to hide it, as her processor cycled through too many possibilities and none of them good. Had she done something wrong – offended the medical team somehow? Was she sick? Had the damage done to her in the recent incident downtown done more harm than they'd first understood?
It was unlike her to jump so quickly to negative conclusions. And she had never been a nervous bot before. It had always been the very opposite, with her likely far too bold and overconfident for her own safely or good, given her admittedly severe degree of processor damage. Recent events had broken her trust, left her on edge and doubtful of so many things. She realized this for the first time then, and she knew she didn't like it.
"This is not about bad news," Ratchet said, with a hint of a smile on his face-plate. He must have sensed her fears at once, without a need for her to speak of them.
"Uh-kay," Firestorm said back, smiling just as much as she could and looking at him ready to listen.
"You're familier with the cybermatter project?" Ratchet questioned. And Firestorm nodded at once.
"'Course Ah'am!" she said, excited now just to talk important matters with accomplished bots who clearly had no doubt at all that she could keep up. "Da'buildin' blocks of'bot'life...Tha'on'ly reason'Knockout still'ere at'all, An'Ah know it'all start'd wit'Bee in some final'battle tha' end'da war..."
"Cybermatter is ready to go into trials by this time," Ratchet said, nodding at her answer. "We're ready to see it do the things it was meant to do when I first started my work with it... to do the things medical science simply can't do on it's own. To offer one last hope of life, or quality of life to bots beyond other means."
"Ya'tol me'once ya'could'neva' fully'fix me," Firestorm said, only guessing that may have been the direction the old bot was going in next. And she smiled at him in acceptance as she said so, because the fact had never bothered her. Ratchet had done the very best he could with her... had given her rehabilitation enough to build coordination she never knew she had – climbing on a ladder or carrying multiple objects very far at all, would never have been possible without that work. He'd built her walking frame for her, giving her speed and confidence, letting her walk with self assurance when she knew she wouldn't fall to the floor when she stumbled in her steps – and he'd even painted it yellow to match her own paint, something that had made her laugh from the start. He'd explained one day after he'd met her that that was about the most he could ever do. And she'd understood at once, grateful he'd looked her case over at all, because that was far more then she;d ever thougtht to hope for once.
"Ah'm still uh-kay wit'tat." she said after a second, and with a smile. Because she truly was.
"I'm not," Ratchet answered firmly. And the tone of his voice was one of obvious determination. "Not when I think I could be so much better. Not while I feel we might have another option for you now."
Firestorm sat in her chair, looking intently at the old bot while he went on speaking. "We've seen what cybermatter did for both Bumblebee and Knockout. I've seen it work time and again on damaged simply lifeforms with ninety-five percent success and a percent injury rate. We're ready to move on.. to let it do what it does working with a patient in a situation that's not life or death, and wasn't an accident."
"An'Ya'd wan'ta test 'it'on mee?" Firestorm asked as understanding came to her at once.
Her spark pounded with her mixed feelings about that as soon as she saw the old bot nod in confirmation. A chance at being 'normal' when she could barely remember what had been before her youngling-hood accident. She imagined for the first time that she might really run, standing in one place fully unsupported as long as she wanted to, or even simply pour energon from one container to the next without spilling it constantly everywhere. She thought too that perhaps she could speak out loud just as she still heard her own voice in her head, as understandable as any bot's was. She let herself wonder for the first time since she was still a youngling, just what it might be like to comment on the simplest thing in conversation to a stranger, and not hear them quickly laugh in surprise in her face-plate.
But there were other feelings too about it. And those came fast behind the first. What if the whole thing failed. She supposed quickly that would hardly be so bad. She'd been right back where she was right now and of course that was simply her. But it could all be worse. Could she be the one that was finally harmed, or killed? What if it really did work out as well as anybot could hope for, only for her to realize that with damage caused while she was still young, damage that had effected the way bots interacted with her and therefore her social development, meant it was too late to truly be like others? She asked herself lastly if 'normal' was truly overrated. Her thoughts went at once to Soundwave. And she knew full the bot she loved was mostly fine with being far away from 'normal,' and she wondered why she wanted it herself all of a sudden when she'd never before cared that she could never be like other bots.
"The choice will be yours of course," Ratchet explained, though she knew from the start it went Without saying. "I don't want to pressure you in any way, or make you believe you have to do this. You absolutely don't."
He smiled at her again in assurance, and looking around the room, she saw the other two bots smiling calmly too.
"Wha'wass it'like fa'both' off'yu?" She asked slowly, looking from Bumblebee toward Knockout and back again. She understood fully now, why Ratchet had asked those two bots, of any of his growing medical team, to meet with them.
"I'm afraid I'm not much help," Knockout said. He chuckled a little under his intakes. But it was obvious both in his tone of voice, and in the way he sat, slightly stiff and rigid on his mobily cart, that he'd been triggered at least a little into anxiety as he answered anyway. "I'd lost so much of my own awareness by that point. I was still conscious, or at least sort of so. But reality made no real sense... there was jumbled noise that I only later understood had been speaking voices nearby." He shook his head, clearly trying to shake off baffled confusion, and a very bad memory. He turned slightly though a second later, so that he could look Firestorm in the optics. And he smiled assurance. "I can tell you for sure, there was never pain. Eventually just... calmness and warmth – though those things only made sense again later."
"I remember, I was falling, knocked from a railing after a shot to the chest panel by a high powered blaster," Bumblebee said, when Knockout stopped speaking. He sat forward in his chair with an intent look on his face-plate and clearly tried hard to remember details and put it all together in his processor when he'd never been asked to before. "I was falling and falling and then the pain finally registered. Soon thouhg, as soon as it seemed it has started, the pain as just... gone. But I was still falling. Or at least it felt like I was. I knew I'd hit the cybermatter pool below me, but it felt like I fell right through it. It was... bright. It was silent. Everything finally got warm... just like Knockout said." He paused again, clearly baffled, before he added slowly, "Next I knew I was standing back up top, near where I'd started out with no idea how I got up there or why I wasn't dead."
"'Bee's accident was just that," Ratchet said, smiling assurance of his own as his optics met firestorm's next. "An accident. It would of course be much different for you. Much closer to Knockout's experience, but even that not quite so much. This would be a very controlled experiment... monitors in use, safety measures in place. And there's no rush at all for you to agree if in fact you do at all." The old bot paused then, with his hand up or emphasis on his next words. "In fact, I would like you to wait at least a few days before you make a decision at all. Take the time to really think it all over."
"Soundwave," Firestorm called, banging cheerfully on the door of his room, down the hall from hers. Her processor spun with her excitement as she knocked again just a second or two after the first time. She had no much to tell him. She hoped he'd be happy... she imagined he would be...
"Soundwave!" she called out again when there was no answer, and the door didn't open.
She pushed a little on the edge of the door, where it slid into the wall on its track. And to her surprise and relief, it slid open, unlocked.
"Ah'jus come'back'from Ratchat's office," she said, stepping into the room, pretty sure he wouldn't mind. "Ah'got news, Soundwave. Tis'coul'bee amazin'!"
Firestorm realized only then that she was speaking very loudly. And she fell silent at once, when she realized that Soundwave could in fact be recharging, still recovering from his very recent repair. She turned slowly to face toward the recharge station, and thought she might just rest with him awhile. She wondered now, just how well he could see, of at least how well he would once he woke up again. She remembered Ratchet assurance that they would know by the end of that day just how much he would be able to.
But he was not laying on the recharge station, as she'd quickly convinced herself he would be. And her spark dropped then with concern over something not quite right.
"Yu'in'ere?" she called out around the small room hopelessly, and well aware that her muddled voice was far more so in her concern. She turned, pushing her walking frame in front of her, and carelessly she bumped its little wheels against the legs of the recharge station.
"Firestorm," Soundwave's voice fianllt called back to her, from inside behind the half closed door of the wash station – a place that had not even occurred to her to check. And he voice sounded so different than it seemed it always did. "Please... go away!"
"Wha'?" Firestorm questioned at once. And boldly she took a quick step toward that half closed door instead of away from it. Her hands were off the frame's bars at once, and instead she used the door to hold her balance. "Why'go'way? No... Ah'won't."
"Go away. Go Away!" Soundwave screamed in sudden anger when she took another tiny hesitant step forward, trying hard to hold her balance while she peeked around the wash station door.
She saw one of his long and twisting cables before she was close to seeing him. It shot past the door out of what seemed like nowhere, striking her against the front of her body. He'd not sent any current through the cable. And it had not hit her very hard at all. But with her terrible lack of balance and her hands off her walking frame, it was just enough to make her fall anyway. And she stumbled backwards horribly, landing on her back right in front of the recharge station, and close to having hit her head on the base of it. Still, she believed at once he hadn't exactly wanted to hurt her.
"Soundwave," she said, her tone demanding now, firm and serious, though shaky from the sinking of her spark. She slowly got herself up from the floor, first into her knees, then finally to her feet. And she took a few awkward and stumbling steps again toward the wash station door.
"Ah... Ah'cant'go 'way. Not wen'Ah know some-ting 'realla'wrong..."
"Firestorm," Soundwave answered, and his voice shook horribly by then with shaking sobs of pain and despair. "Please... just... leave..."
"Ah'gonna comm'Ratchet..." Firestorm answered, still not even thinking leaving as her asked her to. Something was very wrong and she sensed that more than ever as she reached up to her personal commlink. She certainly had heard Soundwave cry like that before – but only in the height of his fast forgotten nightmares.
"No. No, don't," Soundwave said inside the wash station. And it sounded as though he was clearly trying hard just to stop his helpless sobbing then.
"Talk'ta mee," Firestorm begged firmly, deciding at least for the moment to give him a chance to refuse medical care on his own. Quickly though she stepped around the wash station door, to find him strangely sitting on the floor near the shower, hands over his head and still crying horribly.
"Come'on," she said softly, sliding down to sit beside him carefully on the floor. She put her head on his knees and tried hard to grab on of his hands, but he refused to let her. "Wha' Happen'd?"
"Wait..." she whispered, mostly thinking out loud just a moment later, when he still didn't answer her and had only started to cry so hard again and his body shook from it.
Firestorm, simply trying her best to hug the bot who wanted to push her away, to grab his hands when he only wanted to pull himself back tight as he could against his wall to stop her trying, had sat back up again on the floor. And when she had, her optics had come to rest on the back wall of the shower enclosure, with its shiny chrome back splash behind it and wrapped around to the edges. She looked around the wash station quickly then, with her spark sinking. And it dropped clean to her tank when her optics landed next on the face-shield, which lay discarded carelessly on the shower stall floor.
She felt her tank flip hard. Thought she might purge it then as she remembered that he could in fact probably see now, and well enough to see himself in the shiny chrome of the wall. She remembered to her own despair and horror, that he had never seen himself or his own damaged state since it had all happened centuries before.
"Get'up," she said slowly, firmly but patient and she tugged gently on his arms, well aware of just how little she could help him then if he would himself. She thought again of comm'ing for help. But then just as quickly, she dismissed the idea. He was hurt, ot at least it didn't seem so. Just upset more than anything "le'ss go'ta da recharge station..."
To her relief he stood up slowly to follow her when she yanked lightly on his arms a second time. Leaving her walking frame where she'd let go of it near the wash station door, she walked with him across the room.
"Firestorm..." he said, sitting down slowly on the edge of his recharge station. And he paused for a long moment, while he just stayed where he was, looking shaken and shaken and finally horrified. "I didn't mean to hit you... I would never... I would never..."
"Ah'kno dat!" Firestorm replied at once. And she smiled as she jumped up quickly onto the recharge station herself. "If Ah'd tot yu'ment ta, Ah would'ha left like'yu toll'me ta..." She let her words die out abruptly in the air. And for a while she just sat beside him, making it clear even in her silence, that she was still not leaving, even if he told her to again – which he didn't
"Are yu uh-kay?" she asked after long moments had passed, his crying had stopped, and his frame was no longer shaking from his panic and grief. Slowly she moved, so that she could lay on the recharge station he sat on the edge of, and rest her head on his lap while her hands reached for his. She sighed with relief when this time he took them at once.
"It...it was always impossible... in my own processor... to fully form an idea of what I must look like," Soundwave said slowly. His speech made perfect sense, but still it was clear from the tone of his voice and the slowness of the words, that he was in fact struggling again just to keep the words in order. I knew it was... terrible... I knew well I had barely survived once... and that should say enough. Firestorm... how... how can it not matter, at least to you?"
"Ba'cause it'doesn'" Firestorm answered simply. She knew full well that answer was hardly an answer at all. But it was by far the best one she could think of, at least in the moment.
"The bot who once destroyed my face-plate in the arena..." Soundwave said still slowly and with a great amount of hesitation. Firestorm just stayed where she was when he paused a long while, waiting to see if he would continue on. And very slowly, he did so. "One night... a couple of days before the fact... he returned to the dormitories drunk enough to stumble over his own feet. Many liked to drink on nights they did not fight... and some on nights they did. But... he was far worse off than most I'd seen before. He came inside... and though I don't know even now why it was me he picked on... we soon began to argue. Many saw and heard but none stepped into to become directly involved. It was simply the way of things. And after a moment of that, he shoved me hard against a wall. He growled in my face-plate that I was just 'too pretty' for the pits... and he said that would be the reason I would one day die there... I did not know what he meant by that. Thought it meant nothing at all. He was drunk and falling over... When I fought again him next I was certain I could win. I'd beaten him twice before and I was long undefeated. I learned too late that all along he'd had a plan..."
"Ratchet still'say'ya face-plate is'fix-a-ble," Firestorm reminded him. And she looked intently at his optics as she did, smiling when she saw that the finally glowed witht he red they should have been instead of their muted light pink. She moved just a little, getting comfortable again, and she smiled brighter when, obviously without even a thought, his optics followed her in doing so.
"We'll never get back to what I once was," Soundwave answered, clearly still so sad and defeated as he spoke. "I thought at first... it didn't matter to me when I couldn't find a reference picture..."
"Course it'mattas," Firestorm replied in understanding. "Yu wan'ta look like yu, as yu know it... ever'one does." She lay still for a long moment on Soundwave's recharge station, with her head still on his lap, and her hands in his, thinking.
"Knockout can'draw ver'y'well," she said after a long moment more. "Yu'shopuld talk'ta him awhile some'time. Rememeber yu'as'yu once were. See'if he'can'git it'righ'on'his drawing screen..."
"I will... talk with him," Soundwave said softly. Slowly, he blinked his optics, and he let gone of one of Firestorm's hands so that he could wipe helplessly at the tears that had fallen onto his face-plate.
"What did you come to tell me?" he asked, after a moment. Firestorm only shook her head in reply.
"Is'not 'im'por'end righ'now."
"It is to me," Soundwave insisted, and his tone said that he meant it entirely. "Tell me what it is that made you so happy. And I can be happy along with you."
"There'is..." Firestorm mumbled, smiling at him. "There'is some'chance'Ah fix-a-ble'tooo."
Notes/ The last Soundwave and Firestorm scene was so sad to write, but I feel like I did my best with it and of course it's a very important scene I felt I had to get right. Soundwave is one of a few characters I find tricky to write, even if I'm not writing from his perspective. But he's also an interesting character to write too, and I've realized how much I like to try just to get him right.