Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers.
Note: Reposted because I wrote something stupid that didn't match with moviecannon, which I'm not surprised by. But this was a big difference. If you've read this already, just skip down to the part with McDreamy and re-read the paragraph there. That's all I've changed.
After her incident with Slipstream, the girl had retrieved a cloth from Megatron's subspace and methodically wiped her hands clean. Then she painstakingly picked up the items she had scattered on the floor and rearranged them on the desk. She dimly hoped that it wasn't completely out of order. The whole time she avoided dripping her own energon from the shallow cuts on her wrists. She saved the worse job for last and approached the body that was leaning out of the open coffin.
Her optics noted the straps around his midsection that seemed to be the only thing holding the corpse upright. She also, somewhat incredulously, discovered how perfect his frame was. While she couldn't see anything in color with her night vision, she could easily discern that there didn't even appear to be a scratch on him. Hook was taking his OCD and desire for perfection to new levels, but it was expected.
After all, Scrapper had been a part of his team.
The girl tilted her head and reached out a clawed servo gently. She lifted the Con's lifeless chin to stare into dead optics. She debated, wondering if it would come back to bite her. Bringing back Jazz was one thing but Scrapper? It would probably be easy enough with the Shard, but what if he had remembered things like the Black-Ops mech had? Would he rat her out if he recalled? Would Scrapper hold it against her as blackmail to get whatever he wanted? Would the mech even want to return to the world of the living where the war still raged on?
Would Hook and the other Constructicons stop looking so horribly incomplete?
Her forehead made a muted clang when she smacked it lightly to the top rim of the coffin. She groaned internally. She knew she would regret this. She knew it wouldn't help her out in the long run. She knew the Autobots would be pissed.
But when had she ever indicated something like that would stop her?
The girl gone Decepticon heard the sound of the medical bay being entered and the irritated grumbling of the medic. She turned her head and increased her audio receptor sensitivity when she tried to listen harder to the muffled voice.
"-tells me to leave, only to break someone and have me come back." Hook's annoyance was as clear as day. She safely assumed that he was fixing Slipstream's shoulders. The girl could practically feel the tension in the other room at the seeker's silence. Slipstream wouldn't warn the medic, or maybe she already had and Hook didn't care? Unless the seeker didn't think Megatron would stick around. While Hook wouldn't chew him out, Megatron's life and time in the medical bay could become sufficiently unpleasant. The girl released the mech's chin and quietly moved until she was leaning against one of the tables in the backroom.
After about ten minutes, Hook had not-so-politely told Slipstream to get out. She heard swish of the door closing behind the seeker as she left while peds shuffled around the medibay. The sound moved toward the backroom and she didn't move as the door opened on command. Hook froze in the doorway when he saw her red optics gleaming in the darkness. His optics darted over to the open casket and his shoulders tensed.
She tilted her head while assessing his reaction. While anyone would freak out to have Megatron waiting ominously for them, especially if they had been complaining about him within hearing distance, the medic seemed more worried about her finding the intact body.
"You fixed a dead solider to perfect condition?" She broke the silence at last, voice level. Her gaze dragged along the mech in the coffin once more. How much time, energy, and material had Hook spent to bring a lifeless husk to perfection? She doubted Megatron would approve. The medic was supposed to be keeping his living soldiers in working condition. In fact, she mused idly as she remembered the second movie, with the way the Autobots had so easily used Jetfire's body Megatron would have probably expected the medic to scrap the Constructicon for spare parts.
"Lord Megatron, I can explain-" Hook started to say in a rush but stopped when she held up a clawed servo.
"Am I correct to assume that you spared no quality material; that he is in perfect condition inside and out?" The medic hesitated, but nodded stiffly.
"Hm." She murmured noncommittally. With her own reminder that there was much more to fixing a body -alive or not- than finding a couple slabs of metal, she frowned. The girl had no idea what Ratchet would need to reconstruct Arcee's sisters. Hook was still and she sent out a request for communications to the Autobot medic.
:: Youngling? :: Ratchet sounded stunned for a moment. She briefly wondered why before the girl remembered her enraged exit. The CMO regained himself quickly. :: What's wrong? Are you alright? ::
:: Yes, Ratchet. :: She responded in amusement. :: So is Starscream, so you can assure Optimus that I'm not going to take another hunk of Sideswipe's face. I don't blame you guys for his… eagerness either. I just have a question. ::
:: Better be a good question to require you to contact me at 4 am. :: Ratchet responded. She snorted over the line.
:: Can you send me the list of medical supplies you would need to fix Elita One and Chromia? :: There was a pregnant pause on the other side of the line before the CMO spoke, slightly suspicious and curious.
:: What are you up to, youngling? ::
:: It's a surprise. :: She replied in a chipper tone. There was a rough sigh over the line before a ping erupted in her vision. :: Thank you. Now, while I'd love to bug you all morning, I have another medic to deal with at the moment. See you soon, Ratchet. ::
:: Why do you need a medic- :: He started before she cut off the communication link. She refocused her optics on the mech still standing uncomfortably in the doorway, not daring to come closer or leave. She motioned him forward anyway.
Hook glanced at the out of order table and twitched, but he did as she asked and stood in the middle of the room. The door closed, leaving in darkness that was only penetrated by the light from their crimson optics. She started to circle the medic, watching his dark optics dart to keep his gaze on her. She was mostly doing the intimating part because she thought it would suit Megatron, and she had already been acting horribly out of character in front of the Decepticons. She needed to reestablish the respect that they held for their leader. Unfortunately, Megatron had mostly gained it out of fighting and fear. While she had no idea how to fight, she did have the advantage of being trapped in the body of one of most frightening and intimidating mechs to ever walk the Earth, and she was milking it for all it was worth.
"What would you give to have him back?" She murmured. The thickness of tension in the air could have been cut with a blade. She stopped behind him, towering over him out of his direct line of sight. "Could you give up perfection for him, Hook?" Her clawed servo reached around and dragged over the space in front of his chassis and he flinched.
"It doesn't matter what I would give, my Lord." He found the courage to speak. "He is offline." Her optics glimmered as she walked and completed the circling, stopping in front of him.
"Not for long." Hook's helm, which had been lowered respectfully shot up. His optics locked with hers.
"That is not possible." She raised an eyebrow ridge at his declaration.
"Really?" The girl uttered. "Are you sure? I was almost positive I was correct, unless you are accusing me of being wrong."
"I… I'm not! But it's… you can't…" Hook's mouth was working but he couldn't seem to gather his thoughts together, processor already whirling with the possibility.
"I have a list of things I will require in return, but I assure you, I can." She forwarded the list of medical supplies Ratchet needed before he could question her on what she wanted. The girl knew he would be wary; he was essentially making a deal with the devil. The medic looked through the list with a stony expression that melted into surprise.
"This is it?" Her eyebrow plating twitched at his inquiry. There were a lot of parts on that list. "There are a few I don't have on hand, but I'm sure I could get them from Swindle, my Lord."
"That is all I require at the present time." She confirmed before she grinned and leaned in his personal space. "Unless you would prefer I ask for more." Only after the words slipped past her mouth did she realize how badly that could have been taken. She wanted to rip the suggestive words out of the air and shove them back down her throat. Maybe then she would choke and die on them.
"So you can get the supplies?" She continued quickly, leaning back with her servos crossed over her chest.
"Yes." The medic replied shortly. "But I still don't understand how you are going to…" He trailed off, optics slipping from hers to move to the lifeless husk leaning out of his open casket.
"Leave that to me." She shrugged off his concern with a flippant wave before heading towards the door and leaving a skeptical, but oddly hopeful Hook behind to close the casket and obsessively rearrange the desk she had scattered previously.
:: Why do you need a medic- :: The distinct click of the youngling hanging up cut off the Autobot CMO's question. He let out an aggravated huff before his optics focused back on Wheeljack. The truth was that the youngling hadn't disrupted his recharge cycle, considering he was already awake. The inventor was sitting in a stool near the medical berth that was currently occupied by their only online femme. She had collapsed almost immediately after Prime's declaration.
The two of them had held their suspicions on why the femme hadn't had a strong reaction to the knowledge of a youngling being among them. At first, Wheeljack had offered the theory that since she was in Megatron's body; Arcee's maternal programming hadn't kicked in. Ratchet had been skeptical, knowing that the form shouldn't matter. If femmes could have willy-nilly decided which sparklings, if any at all, activated their core programming, there wouldn't have been as many deaths associated with their make during the beginning of the war.
What Ratchet suspected was much worse.
"You alright there, Ratch?" Wheeljack asked after a moment of silence. He was curious about the conversation the medic had, but knew if Ratchet wanted him to know he would find out. The medic snapped out of his dark train of thought and nodded stiffly.
"Yes." He muttered, dragging a servo over his faceplates. "Just a call from our mutual friend." Wheeljack's optic ridges hiked upwards in surprise.
"Really? What'd she say?" The inventor hesitated a moment, fiddling with his hands before he asked a question. "She… she is coming back, yeah?" The CMO moved his helm as if he was trying to crack his neck before he leaned forward, hovering over the femme that had no outward or inward signs of distress or a health issue. It bothered and frustrated the medic that he could do nothing until she woke up. He scanned Arcee again, just to make sure there was no change in her condition, as he replied.
"The youngling assured that she would be back." Wheeljack's shoulders relaxed, but that was not all that happened. The femme's optics snapped open. Arcee's balled servos shot out, one connecting harshly with Ratchet's shoulder. The medic grunted with a retreated step. He didn't even glance at the metal he knew would be dented. Arcee was sitting up on the medical berth, taking in her surroundings with sharp optics. Wheeljack had gotten out of his chair and given her the appropriate amount of space, shooting a concerned glance at the medic.
"Arcee, you are among friends." Ratchet assured. Her frame seemed to relax when their gaze met.
"What happened?" She asked quickly, looking between the two Bots. Ratchet moved forward and laid a hand on the femme's shoulder. His facial expression was a mix of stern and sympathetic.
"We discovered something about the youngling; do you recall what it was?" His optics were trained on her expression, searching for any sign of recollection. The pink bot tensed under his hand and she looked at him sharply. She wrenched her arm away from the CMO, servos curling into fists.
"Why didn't I-" She cut off abruptly when her voice cracked. She slammed her fists into the berth harshly with a sharp yell. Ratchet jerked his helm at Wheeljack, indicating towards the door.
:: Tell everyone awake to stay out of the medical bay unless absolutely necessary. :: His tone left no room for argument and the inventor trusted his judgment. With a compliant nod, Wheeljack left Ratchet's domain. The medic didn't approach Arcee, instead waiting for her fit to subside. The femme slammed her servos into the berth repeatedly, cries getting louder, sharper, and more agonized.
Carefully steady and unyielding servos wrapped around her wrists, holding her arms still. The CMO saw the flash of panic cross her features and shook her, jolting her frame to make her pay attention to the present.
"Look at me, Arcee." He ordered with voice less gruff than usual but still demanding. Bright blue optics landed on his in surprise. "It's not your fault." Her faceplates morphed into something stormy. Anger mixed with despair blended with regret and longing.
"I could have fought back. I could have done something, anything." Her hands uncurled, arms going limp in his hold. "They needed me." Ratchet offlined his optics for a moment, gathering the strength and support to carry on with this conversation, even though he desperately didn't want to have it. Turning his optics back on, he leaned his helm forward, taking up most of her vision.
"There was nothing you could have done. It is their fault, not yours." Arcee seemed to break at these words and bowed her helm into his chassis, letting out a rough sob.
"It's not fair." She wailed. He let go of her wrists and she clung to him like a lifeline. His arms came to wrap loosely around her. The medic stared fixatedly at one point in the wall as she cried. "I couldn't feel her. I didn't care. What kind of femme doesn't care?" Ratchet scoffed, as if what she said was unbelievable.
"You think you would have comforted her if you didn't care?" Arcee shook her head, but not in answer to his question. It was as if she was trying to block out his words and fall deeper into self-loathing.
"It's not the same." The pink bot whispered. "I tried to get closer. Maybe I could feel it then. I cried because I couldn't feel anything, even when she confirmed her age. I thought the coding could just be smothered." Ratchet's arms stiffened at her words. It was becoming more and more obvious that what he suspected could be the truth. Arcee suddenly reared back, angry fire alight in her optics. "But it's not there." She ground out. Her servos lifted and clenched on his shoulders. The medic tensed at the pressure, but kept from wincing.
"Arcee, what do you feel about her now?" The medic asked bluntly, arms slipping between them to cross over his chassis. The femme narrowed her optics and shot off of the berth. She paced back and forth, gaze flicking towards the medic piercingly.
"I just told you; weren't you listening?" Ratchet arched an optic ridge at the irate question.
"You told me what you thought before. Tell me what you feel now."
"Why should I check broken coding?" Arcee spat, getting more defensive. The medic stood slowly, giving her a level stare.
"Because we've been thinking she's more of a threat than an asset." There was no inflection in his voice, and his faceplates were stony. The pink bot couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"What?" Her voice sounded hollow, distant. Inside she was a raging inferno of betrayal. Any rational thought was wiped away as she activated her weapons. "You don't touch her!" The pink bot ripped the words out of her throat. She pointed one threateningly at the CMO, framing shaking. Ratchet held both palms up nonthreateningly.
"I scanned you after you collapsed." The medic informed. "I found no disruption in your coding." Those words sent all thoughts in Arcee's processor to a grinding halt. Her wound tight, aggressive stance uncoiled slightly. She looked at Ratchet in confusion.
"This was a test." She accused, half relieved and half irritated. Ratchet's lip plating twitched and he nodded. The pink bot shook her helm in exasperation and disengaged her blaster. "You're insane." She sighed. The CMO snorted before his faceplates shifted to something kinder. He moved forward and placed a careful servo on her arm.
"The important thing is whatever the Decepticons did to your coding, the block, is gone." She nodded. Ratchet's grumpy exterior returned as he lowered his servo. He turned back to his work counter, making a shooing motion with his servo at her. "Now get out of my medical bay and get some rest." Arcee rolled her optics and started to follow the order, but paused at the door.
"Hey, Ratchet?" She called, turning slightly towards him as she sent the command for the door to open.
"What?" The medic snapped back, sending her a half glare that had no force behind it.
"Thanks." Arcee held the metal of the doorway and gave an appreciative smile. The CMO shrugged a shoulder.
"It's not me you should be thanking." The pink bot gave a huff and just before the door closed behind her, she heard Ratchet call out to her.
"Oh, and try not to damage Sideswipe too badly when you find out what happened. I'm the one who has to put him back together!"
The girl gone Decepticon had returned to Megatron's quarters to get some more sleep, but after two hours of staring listlessly at his ceiling, she decided it just wasn't going to happen. During that time, she had a few hours to think about how to proceed. She would attempt to fulfill her side of her agreement with Hook, but she truly had no idea if it would work more than once. For all she knew, the second revival could be a dud. She grimaced. That would suck.
But she didn't just dwell on that. She still had no idea how to get home. A good start would be to get the schematics for the failed ground bridge from Shockwave. It also wouldn't hurt to see how far he had come along with the plans for the working one. So at 6 am, she lifted herself from the berth and headed to where Megatron's memory files indicated Shockwave's lab was. Hopefully he was up in about, but if not, she would wait.
Fortunately, it seemed Shockwave was an early riser. She walked into the room with her hands clasped behind her back as she glanced around. Shockwave stood at attention and bowed his helm when he saw who had invaded his lab in the early morning.
"Shockwave." She acknowledged, optics trailing to the large ground bridge that seem to have been touched up since Megatron had last seen it. "I have come to inquire of your progress with the ground bridge."
"It is coming along, my Lord." Shockwave made known. "There are a few more tweaks I need to make with the equation, but I am confident it will work next time." She inclined her helm in acknowledgement.
"I will require the schematics for the ground bridge as it is now, as well as when I tested it. You will update me when you make any progress." Shockwave paused before he complied. He snatched a few data pads off the desk. The Decepticon's sharp servos flew across the machine before he lifted another one and pressed them together. There was a low beep. He did it once again with a different set of data pads. Shockwave handed her the copies without further delay. She glanced at them and tried not to stare blankly. She had no idea what was written. She shifted to the other one and didn't gather any more than from the first. Hearing and reading Cybertronian were two completely different things. She shrugged internally. Wheeljack could read it, and if not, he would figure it out. She subspaced them.
"Is there anything else I can do for you, my Lord?" Shockwave queried.
"Not yet." She disclosed before she turned and exited the lab.
She once again found herself in the throne room by the time noon came around. She had discovered during the previous week that the Decepticons were prone to shenanigans when out of Megatron's presence for too long; Starscream especially. The girl had no delusions that the seeker wouldn't still be trying to overthrow the Decepticon leader, even if his thoughts were mostly swirling around on how to get revenge on Sideswipe. The only consolation was that the Air Commander had no idea where the douche was.
Her optics dragged over those in attendance. Some were off doing minimal tasks or their assigned duties. Most were just hanging around since she hadn't given them a plan of attack or further orders. It seemed her sitting among them made a few nervous, but they continued with their innate chatter. A few memory files had informed her that the plan for Dark of the Moon had already been set into motion and had been for decades. Soundwave had been on Earth since the 1970's. He was the one to discover the Ark on the Moon, and recruited human servants from both the U.S. and Russia space agencies to grind further exploration to a halt. The TIC had also ordered a few Decepticons to steal and hide some of the pillars and hide them under the moon's surface. After Megatron collected all of the Decepticons he could find and huddle them in the Nemesis, he had deemed the lives of the human allies unimportant, only this time he hadn't ordered their execution. Still, any sign of treason would result in termination. But she wasn't worried. The only reason the one man had told Sam was because he felt threatened. Also, Dylan Gould, the only one chosen to live during the movie, had delusions of grandeur about his future place among the Decepticons. Part of her was giddy about having McDreamy a flight away, before she realized he would still be the egotistical, rich boy, traitorous to his own species, pet that made up Dylan Gould.
But damn, was he cute.
She was interrupted from her musings, which she really shouldn't have been having in the Decepticon leader's processor, by an approaching Swindle. The mech had a particularly satisfied and slick smirk planted on his faceplates. She raised an eyebrow ridge when he bowed low in front of her throne, for all in attendance to witness.
"Lord Megatron, it is an honor to be in your commanding presence once again." Her one clawed servo curled into a fist on the armrest as she tried to keep herself from snorting out a lung, or whatever the Cybertronian equivalent. Swindle straightened and locked his purple optics with her dark red. "I would like to request an audience with you as I have come across something that may pique your interest." She paused before she inclined her helm in acknowledgement. She was about to stand and offer a less populated place to see what he had in mind, but Swindle pulled something out of his subspace before she could speak. He obviously wanted to show off whatever he had acquired. It might have been out of pride, or for insurance. It was most likely the latter. This way, if Megatron didn't want it, some other mech could buy it off of him if they so desired.
Then Swindle presented the last thing she had expected.
She was frozen in horror at the object in his servos. Everything seemed to slow to a crawl and her hearing and vision heightened. Her shoulders had tensed minutely while her optics widened. Megatron's spark was trying to rip itself out of her chassis; it was pulsating at such a fast pace. Swindle's smirk widened into a grin when he obviously had mistaken the look on her faceplates for awe. Soundwave didn't. She felt the mech's gaze on the side of her face as she heard him and his cassettes take a step back.
"It's pretty, isn't it?" Swindle hedged, twirling the case holding the purple crystal. "I came across it recently, right before I ran into your excellent warriors." His wrist flicked in a charming way towards Lugnut and Blitzwing. "It has a similar composition to energon-"
"What is it doing on my ship?" Her voice was deadly quiet; it was comparable to the calm before the storm. Swindle shuttered his optics in surprise. His faceplates looked vaguely uncomfortable for a split second; he had expected praise for finding such a unique item.
"I thought you would find it to your liking, Lord Megatron." The Con –in more ways than one- replied, seamlessly shifting to English. A hush had settled over the room as some mechs shifted to put their full attention on the pair.
"How much of it do you have?" She prodded. A somewhat regretful expression flickered across the Con's faceplates.
"Unfortunately, this was all I could find." Her zoomed in on his face, looking for any traces of deception. She glanced at Soundwave and the mech nodded. Her hard gaze pierced Swindle, even though the TIC had acknowledged his honesty in this regard.
"You have no idea what you hold." She warned before her features shifted to something darker. "You tell me that this crystal is like energon, yet you have no idea what it would do to a mech. Do you expect me to consume it; to see if it made me more powerful?" She snarled, lifting herself up from Megatron's throne. Swindle took a half a step back, but her frame was already looming over him. "Or did you expect me to offline?" Conversation broke out across the room. The panic that crossed over the Con's faceplates at the accusation was almost funny. It seems she wasn't the only one who thought so, because Blitzwing broke out into hysterical laughter.
"Ahahahaha." She could see his 'Random' persona was back at the moment as the mech mock wiped away tears of hilarity. "Trying to azzazzinate Lord Megatron? And people zhink I'm ze crazy one!" Misfire and Skywarp seemed to obtain second hand embarrassment over the unstable seeker's remark. Starscream's faceplates were suspiciously smooth, even as irritation seemed to gleam from his optics.
"So Starscream is certifiably insane?" She cut in. "Good to know." The emotionless mask the Air Commander maintained shattered. His helm whipped from the stunned Blitzwing to her. He was about to shoot a few venomous words her way, or possibly grovel in defense of his loyalty at the blatant call-out, but Random spoke before he had the chance, pointing in her direction.
"He made a joke!" He bounced on the balls of his peds, looking like an overeager child. "Make another one!" Lugnut came up behind the mech with the split personality and conked him over the helm. Blitzwing face planted into the floor.
"Be silent!" Lugnut shouted. Blitzwing's faceplates morphed abruptly to something more rugged. He shot to his feet with an enraged expression. She looked upwards and sighed, shaking her head.
"Vhat did you do zhat for, you lump of scrap?" Hothead barked. The larger, purple mech waved an arm threateningly.
"No one mocks Lord Megatron in my presence without consequences." At this point, she was kneading the metal on her forehead. She glanced up and immediately zeroed in on the smirk that flashed across Starscream's faceplates before he opened his derma. He was about to get retribution for the jab at his stability.
"Lugnut, are you implying that our glorious leader needs to be protected?" The seeker drawled, feinting astonishment and incredulity. Lugnut's single optic widened, realizing he had essentially belittled Megatron's ability to handle the situation himself. He stumbled to the ground in front of her feet in a submissive bow, spouting apologizes. Blitzwing shifted back to Icy and shook his helm in exasperation. The girl sent Starscream a glare filled with venom, but seeker was too busy being smug to quell at her expression fully.
"As I was saying," She raised her voice over the blubbering mech. He quieted instantly. The girl sharply shifted her sights back to Swindle, who had wisely stayed silent and still. She held out a clawed servo. "Thank you for the contribution to the cause. Your assistance is wholly appreciated." Swindle gave her a blank look before a slow smirk crawled across his faceplates. He had seen what she had done, and while he didn't appreciate it, he could respect it. The mech placed the container in her outstretched servo. The Con raised an optics ridge as he noticed the shallow, barely noticeable cuts that had already started to heal. With a grin, Swindle graciously placed the container in her palm and bowed.
"Anything I can do for my number one customer." She rolled her optics at his thinly veiled amusement. She held the clear case in front of her face, optics trailing across the glowing crystal. The purple shine demanded all of her attention as the spark pulsating in her chassis increased in volume. Thump. Thump. Thump. A rush of dizziness made her brain feel like cotton and her vision spin. The only thing in focus was the shard of Dark Energon in her hand. Power-stronger-unbeatable-want-need-mine.
Thump. Thump. Thump-!
Her helm jerked to the side, optics snapping offline. A harsh whoosh of air expelled from her vents. She banished the container to her subspace before sending Swindle a glare, even though it wasn't completely his fault.
"If you acquire any more, I would compensate you for transport." Swindle inclined his helm in acknowledgement, optics gleaming with greed. She turned to return to Megatron's throne, but not before sending out a nearly silent private message to the mech.
:: Hook requires a few items only you may possess. I'm sure you can find a profit there. :: The girl gone Decepticon then proceeded to pointedly ignore his presence as she sat back down, optics dragging warningly over those in attendance. Everything returned to a semblance of normal. Swindle spent a few more minutes in the rec room before slipping out.
:: I have collected all of the materials you required, Lord Megatron. :: The message came an hour later. She had to keep from rolling her eyes to the ceiling.
'Finally.' She thought in exasperation. Hook had already told her he had almost everything. The time was most likely spent bargaining over a price with Swindle- the greedy bastard. She sent a return message, ordering him to get the back room ready and that she would be there in a few kilks.
She stood from the throne, giving a nod to Soundwave when the mech looked up. She noticed Starscream glance up sharply at her movement, but pointedly ignored the seeker who was getting doted on by Misfire. Leaving the door to the throne room, she headed in the direction of the medical bay, only to glance over her shoulder when she heard ped steps behind her. When she caught sight of Starscream's determined expression, she groaned internally and walked a little faster.
"Master, may I have word?" The Air Commander caught up quickly and followed a half a step behind.
"No." She bluntly responded, tone flat. The seeker seemed taken aback before he scowled.
"Why not?" He demanded indignantly. She let out an aggravated snarl of air bubble out of her throat. A barbed look met Starscream's question. The girl ripped her gaze from him and kept walking, denying the mech the dignity of an answer. The seeker's wings hiked up slightly but he came to a stop in the hallway. She was almost relieved. Then the Air Commander had to open his mouth.
"I know what you're planning." The girl gone Decepticon halted in her stride. She desperately wanted to believe that it was a bluff, that he hadn't overheard anything after she kept him from plummeting into the ground. She turned her helm slowly to stare at Starscream over her shoulder.
"So does Soundwave and a few others. We have been going over the plan against the Autobots for about a solar cycle." The teen was referring to the plan to send a Decepticon to where the humans stored the Cybertronian technology, thus prompting Optimus to uncover the discovery of Sentinel's ship. They needed a Prime to use the power of the Matrix to bring him back before they could move forward and bring back Cybertron. Soundwave had come across the information almost a year ago. The seeker narrowed his optics on her.
"That's not what I'm talking about." Starscream snapped at her. The Air Commander glanced around and lowered his voice to a furious whisper. "I'm on to your plan involving Skywarp." His optics were alight with accusation and self-justified anger. He had thrown her for a loop though. The girl turned halfway to look at him from the side. She had talked to Skywarp, like what, twice? Was Starscream that paranoid that the mechs around him were plotting against him? The seeker he accused was his own trine mate, his brother!
"What?" She offered dumbly, needing an explanation for whatever the seeker believed he figured out. But Megatron's voice sounded more like a raspy growl than a dumbfounded inquiry.
"Don't play with me!" The seeker spat. His wings shook in outrage. "You're after Skywarp." Now he thought the warlord wanted to get rid of the youngest in the Command Trine? They were one of his greatest assets.
"I am not." She curtly replied. If this continued for much longer, she might have to drag Starscream with her to the medical bay, just to get his processor checked. The Air Commander stomped his foot in an undignified manner.
"You are!" He took a few steps forward, pointing a sharp digit at her. "I see it; the way you keep treating him." The seeker started counting off on his fingers. "You gave him energon, your ration, out of everyone else in the rec room, you kept him from digging, you made him in charge over me, and he told me that you asked him to give you an update on my condition. You showed concern in front of Skywarp for me. You refrain from hitting me." He looked indignant at the very thought of these simple actions. She blinked at him and he let out a noise of frustration and finally shouted what had him in a tither.
"My brothers are not pleasure drones! You can't have them!" Her jaw dropped as realization of why he was so pissed came over her. She quickly connected the same dots the Air Commander had. When he said after-
"I didn't- no." She denied. Suddenly, a snort escaped her. Then a guffaw followed. The girl was soon roaring with laughter as her frame shook in mirth. She leaned backwards as a hand hovered over her mouth, the other gripping her stomach. "No." The teen forced out between snickers. She tried to control herself but when she looked down to see Starscream's insulted expression she dissolved into a new round of hysterics. When she finally got ahold of herself, she made sure to keep her optics off of the seeker, lest she get caught once again in the vicious cycle.
"Then what is it?" The Air Commander spat. "Something's changed." All amusement fell of off her features and she turned to look at him fully, a serious expression written across her face.
"Did you really prefer how things were before?" She asked skeptically. Yet, she didn't wait for his answer. The girl turned and continued walking towards the medical bay.
Starscream didn't stop her.
She entered the medical bay calmly but Hook still seemed terribly tense. The teen could understand why, but it didn't make his stiff posture bother her any less. The medic seemed to be pulled tight in anticipation, as if someone was about to strike him. Perhaps he didn't want to get his hopes up in the odd chance that this was all a ploy; a sick game created by Megatron for his own entertainment. Hook had given over the collection of supplies easily enough. There really wasn't any reason to refuse, considering she could have just ordered them from him with nothing in return from the beginning. After subspacing the precious materials, the girl headed towards the back room, the Decepticon doctor following not far behind.
She took in the now brightly lit room. It seemed larger in the light. The room was set up in a way that told it was mostly used for patients who required privacy. It almost looked like the room Knockout had kept Megatron's prone form within in Transformers: Prime. Except the place where Arcee and Bumblebee had hid was missing along with a few counters and boxes pressed against the walls. She approached the berth occupied by the dead mech before she turned to the medic, nodding approvingly.
"This will do." Seeing as Scalpel was nowhere to be seen, the girl assumed that Hook had convince the small 'Con to steer clear of the medical bay. Her clawed servo came down to rest near Scrapper's helm. The girl traced the lines of the mech's body with her optics, confirming her earlier belief that there didn't seem to be a scratch on him. Noting his yellow paint job, she idly wondered if he would repaint it to the green and purple the rest of his team had changed to since his death.
After taking a steading intake, she turned to Hook abruptly. She pulled the Allspark from her subspace, holding it gently in the palm of her hand. The medic let out a sharp noise of surprise as she offered it to him. She stared at him seriously with somberly calm optics.
"You think… it's just the Shard, my Lord. How do you know it will work?" The Decepticon doctor questioned hesitantly.
"He doesn't have anything to lose if it doesn't work." The girl reasoned. Hook's gaze pierced her at the comment. He took it for what it was. A warning. But while it may not work a second time, that didn't mean she wasn't going to try. The medic nodded stiffly, but eyed the Allspark fragment warily. Instead of touching it himself, he grabbed a pair of tweezers from the counter and carefully picked it up from her outstretched servo. She raised an optic ridge as the medic inspected the Shard for a brief moment before she stepped back. The teen stood a few feet back from the berth, near the offline frame's helm.
She watched with her arms crossed lightly over her chest and ready for any sudden movements. The girl tensed when Hook moved to hover over Scrapper's chassis, fragment held aloft as the medic's other servo unlatched something under his armor. There was a soft click before a crack in the offline Con's chest plating appeared. The Decepticon doctor pried the armor open, exposing the spark chamber. She couldn't really tell him that wasn't necessary without giving away the fact that she had used it before, no matter how unintentional. A mostly withheld shudder trembled Hook's frame at the sight of the empty casing, but a steady servo lowered the Allspark shard to touch the lower edge of the spark chamber.
Her spark sunk into her tanks and she offlined her optics, hoping that when she opened them again, Scrapper would be alive. She took a deep intake and turned her vision back on. The picture was the same. A medic that had the sliver of hope for his teammate shredded into tiny pieces was pressing the Shard onto a lifeless Scrapper's empty spark casing.
Hook's servo spasmed as internal pain flashed over his features. The tweezers slipped from his grip and tumbled to the side of the berth. The fragment stayed where it had been placed, a glaring reminder of her failure to follow through with her side of the bargain.
The Decepticon doctor's hand fumbled to pick up the tweezers as his shoulders shook, subspacing the tool. The girl couldn't have felt any worse if she tried. She had done this, built up his hope only to break the mech even further. A desperate thought came to her. Maybe it just needed contact-? But Hook, who seemingly forgot his wariness to touch the Shard, trying to pick up the Allspark with slipping digits banished her remaining ideas.
She took pity on the medic and moved forward to collect the fragment herself. The doctor noticed her approach and lowered his empty servos to grip the side of the berth, helm bowed. She reached out and opened her mouth a moment before touching the Allspark.
"I'm-" Her uncharacteristic almost-apology was cut short when her digits came into contact with the Shard. Blue, electromagnetic sparks erupted from the fragment and rippled over the offline mech's frame. She ripped back her hand, the Allspark in her grasp, and stumbled back with a strangled noise that bubbled out of her throat. Hook stood frozen in horror and amazement as the body arched close to the point of snapping in half.
When the electricity stopped dancing along the prone form, Scrapper's back thumped back onto the berth. Only the sparks didn't disappear like she thought they would. With the Construction's chassis open, the girl got to witness what happened inside when a Cybertronian was revived.
The electricity had sunk into the mech's frame. The sparks slammed harshly against the inside of the spark casing. They moved faster and faster and faster until it looked like one continuous loop of energy. Abruptly, the electricity wound into a tiny ball before exploding in the Con's chassis, a brilliant, shining spark thrumming gently in its place. The metal that served at the spark's protection slowly slide back closed, hiding the breathtaking light. There was dead silence in the medical bay before there was the sound of fans activating and a soft groan from the previously dead Scrapper. Hook's intakes hitched as the servo near his lifted. The yellow mech rubbed his palm against his helm as one of his optics onlined.
"…Hook?" Scrapper muttered in confusion, giving a dubious stare to the medic's paint job. "How long was I out?"
"A while." The medic answered in a clipped tone, most likely try to keep his voice or posture from betraying him. The girl gone Decepticon watched the interaction with a blank face and mind, trying to wrap her helm around the newest development. She distantly heard the revived Con snort. Her optics dragged to the servo that Hook had tried to pick the Allspark up with; it was the hand that hadn't revived Scrapper.
"Did we at least win?" He didn't seem to notice her presence, but she had retreated a ways and Hook was in the opposite direction.
"What's the last thing you remember?" Hook squinted at the leader of the Constructicons skeptically. Scrapper averted his gaze to the side, thinking. The teen listened with half an ear, mind to busy working to try to find an explanation. She stared at the now living Con with incredulity and irritated confusion.
No seriously… what?
"Err, the last battle?" The yellow mech hedged, obvious put out by Hook's reaction. The Con continued to recall his last moments, seemingly not realizing he had died… yet. "We combined and were destroying the… the pyramid." She slowly pulled her gaze away from the pair, satisfied that Scrapper had no recollection of anything past his death. Her optics landed on the fragment that sat innocently in the palm of her hand. She scowled at it, wanting answers that it couldn't give her. She subspaced it glared at the medic, who had glanced up at her movement.
"The specific events that happened in this room will not be shared." She commanded, catching Scrapper's flinch at her unexpected voice. Not bothering to wait for a reply, she left the room and the medical bay, ready to get out of this mind-raping ship.
What the actual fuck.
Soon she was in the air hanger, having already ordered the Con who was stuck with the duty for the day to send it upwards. As an afterthought, she sent a message to Soundwave.
:: I am leaving for a few orbital cycles. You and Starscream are in charge. :: She uttered before closing the link and transforming. With a roar of her engines, she was in the open air and heading back towards the Autobot base of operations.
'If it turns out I'm a Mary Sue, I'm going to have to cut a bitch.' With that thought, she relaxed her tense form, letting the worries roll off of her frame. It wouldn't be best to meet them already in irritated mood, especially if she had to deal with Sideswipe. With a snort, she increased her speed.
She had bigger things to worry about than Mary Sue bullshit.