Four Lives
Sep. 5th, 2009 12:09 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sorciereTitle: Four Lives That Optimus Prime Saved... and One That He Didn't
Rating: PG-13 for language.
Disclaimer: Absolutely not mine. Alas.
Warnings: Spoilers for RotF, but not the books or comics, most of which I haven't read and will cheerfully ignore. Slight AU from the very end of RotF.
Summary: Sometimes, even Optimus Prime can only watch. Four lives he saved – and one that he couldn't. Ca. 4400 words.
A/N: An anonymous commenter offered the bunny and it bit. Set in the same AU 'verse as the previous A Series of Four fics but they're not needed for background information and this can be read as a stand-alone just fine. The fifth one covers an incident that will show up in a future fic as well.
Sideswipe is completely movie-verse. Which was a bit of a headache, what with him having, like, two lines. So, uh, yeah. I am very, very sorry if he's OOC. ...And while we're at it, I probably fail at writing radio communication as well. Sorry about that, too.
* * * *
1.
* * * *
Eventually, Sam stopped counting. It wasn't for lack of motivation, either. It was mostly the fact that every time he did try to count, he ended up with a whole range of possibilities rather than just one number to stare at. If he went far enough back, technically Optimus saved his life when the Autobot leader sent Bumblebee to Earth to watch over him and in doing so kept the 'Cons from getting to him. It wasn't Optimus himself saving his life personally, but it probably still counted in the big tally, and if he counted that, it just opened up for a whole bunch of 'what ifs' and finally Sam had just given up.
Optimus had mentioned on more than one occasion that he owed his life to Sam. Sam really disagreed on that. Optimus had done more of his share of life-saving in turn, and no matter what the Prime might say, Sam was nowhere near making up for that.
Occasionally he wondered what one human life was compared to a species that lived longer than the entire human race had existed. He had never mentioned that to Optimus, of course, but he still wondered. He had destroyed the Allspark, and when it had started to show up in his brain, he had done everything he could to get it back out again.
Occasionally, he wondered about that, too. All that was left now was echoes. An affinity for math-related subjects, Cybertronian words that he remembered but didn't understand, and he didn't like to linger on the thought of what might have happened if that knowledge had stayed in his brain. He could accept the thought that he would have gone insane, but he still avoided the dark thoughts in the back of his mind that wondered how much of the Allspark would have been in him by that point; how much he could have done for the species he owed so much. NEST readily put their lives on the line for the sake of the Autobots and Earth, and in those darker moods he suspected that more than a few of them would have let things run their course if they had been in his place, if it meant having at least part of that Allspark back.
It hadn't been them, though. It had been Samuel Witwicky, and Sam was a teenager and risking his life in sudden battle was one thing but going insane and knowing it all the while made some primal fear in the back of his mind rear and violently shove the thought aside.
“You're brooding again,” Mikaela murmured against his neck, sun-warmed body shifting against his own. She smelled like sand and salt and sunscreen, and he found himself responding cheekily before he was even aware of it.
“'Thinking'. The term you're looking for is 'thinking'. I'm a hero, right? Heroes don't brood. They think.”
He felt her smirk against his neck. “Some heroes do, and you're brooding.” A pause, and her hand combed through his hair, one thumb gently caressing his ear. “The Allspark again?”
Sam was silent, but then, he didn't actually need to answer. She knew him too well not to get it right in one. “He preferred to destroy it rather than let it fall into Megatron's hands. Do you really think he would have chosen it over your life and sanity? Even if letting that happen would somehow magically have brought the Allspark back, he wouldn't have done it. You know that.”
“I know,” Sam admitted quietly and scribbled absent-minded Cybertronian glyphs in the sand. In another world, it might have been important words. Now it was just the favourite curses that had stuck from Ratchet's course. “And you know, I'm not sure I would have done it, either. Everyone thinks I'm a hero, but if someone told me to give my sanity for the Allspark, I... I don't know. I died in Egypt but I don't even remember much. It didn't even hurt much. I was just surprised. Going slowly insane and knowing it...” he trailed off and stared at his scribbles in the sand. “Optimus would have done it in my place. 'Bee'd have done it. Ironhide. Will. Epps...”
“And you know what?” Mikaela murmured against his ear. “So would you. You're not a soldier, Sam. You'd have done what you had to, because that's who you are and that's why I love you, but you're not a soldier and you're not supposed to be one. You never got the chance to walk away. They signed up for this. You never did.”
Mikaela fell silent and Sam didn't respond as he stared unseeingly at the sand.
He'd never signed up for it, but the option was still there, and sometimes it scared Sam, too. He wanted to help. He wanted to fight. He wanted to be someone else than the kid who got everyone in trouble and kept almost getting himself killed trying to make everything all right again. He wanted to be useful and not just a pawn that people could target and manipulate as they wanted because he couldn't fight back. He wanted to be more than just 'the kid', but he had seen enough already to know that being something else meant making decisions he didn't want, taking risks that could get him killed, week after week after week, and doing it knowing that there was a very real risk that he would see friends killed in battles that they could never talk about.
There was a NEST uniform neatly folded in a locker in the barracks, and that had been more than just Will's offer, and Sam knew that. It wouldn't have been there without Optimus Prime's blessings. He had the chance to walk away this time. He hadn't signed anywhere and Optimus and 'Bee would probably prefer to have him safe and sound somewhere else, anyway, and there wasn't a single person on base other than Sam himself who didn't agree that he had already done everything that could be expected of him and then some.
He hadn't been given a choice about getting involved in the first place, but he didn't have to stay involved. He could just... leave. New home, new name, whole new identity. He could be someone other than the Samuel Witwicky that the whole world was looking for.
Optimus Prime had given him that choice. This time, Sam could walk away.
He wasn't going to.
* * * *
2.
* * * *
It had started with the Twins. Quite a lot of headaches did, actually, and it was still a source of bemusement to Optimus that two mechs could be such a childish terror on base and still show a remarkable level of competence when battle took a turn for the worse. Ironhide had theorised once, in more colourful terms, that their competence in battle came from a general lack of intelligence – that they were simply too stupid to understand the concept of fear. Occasionally, Optimus was inclined to agree.
It had started with the Twins, and with an almost complete lack of Decepticon activity for close to a month, it wasn't really a surprise to him, either. To be honest, given the level of boredom most of NEST currently faced, everyone had been remarkably well-behaved.
“Oh, man! Ain't no way in Pit I'm gonna get near that thing! That is one fuug-le organic! I seen Decepticreeps less fugly!”
Skids, by the sound of it, his voice coming from somewhere outside of the hangar Optimus found himself in, and the large mech did not even need to consider the situation before he was moving outside with quick strides. 'Organic', he strongly suspected, meant that they had encountered some of the native wildlife, and presumably not something that was neither intelligent enough nor fast enough to have left immediately.
“Still prettier'n yo aft!” Mudflap's voice retorted, and Skids' response came almost instantly.
“An' smarter'n you, slagface!”
“You so stupid, you make 'Cons look smart!”
Optimus Prime stepped outside and was not surprised by what he saw. The Twins already lost in their own argument, surrounded by tarmac, sunlight, and one small organic creature with an exoskeleton, watching the two Autobots with raised claws and already forgotten by them again.
He was already moving towards the creature when there was the distinctive sound of metal striking metal, followed by the just as distinctive sound of said metal hitting tarmac. Skids and Mudflap rolled away on the runway, punches interspaced by Cybertronian curses, and thankfully they were moving away from the small, organic being.
Optimus Prime made a sound that human ears might have interpreted as a sigh, and then he bent down and carefully picked up the clawed creature. Birgus latro, his processors informed him, and even though it was a large specimen of its kind, it was still dwarfed by his hand.
“You made an unfortunate choice in territory,” he informed it as he strode across the tarmac, away from the still-arguing mechs and towards an area of vegetation that a quick Internet search confirmed was suitable for the creature in his hand. He kneeled at the edge of it and carefully placed the creature on the ground again. “Away you go, little one,” he murmured. “Stay away from the Twins next time.”
The coconut crab, predictably, did not respond.
Optimus didn't mind.
* * * *
3.
* * * *
Ironhide came out of recharge to the image of Optimus Prime quietly discussing something or another with Ratchet, and the realisation that he was in the infirmary.
Again.
“-The rest is all minor, although it will take at least two weeks to fix up his arm completely. Getting it functional will take three or four days on its own, and I intend to keep him here for the duration of that,” Ratchet concluded, and Ironhide almost started to argue until his own system diagnostics finished their scans and he stayed silent.
“To ensure that Starscream's weapons did not have... side-effects,” Optimus Prime said, and it was more of a statement than a guess.
Ratchet only nodded, and then glanced at his patient. “He's awake. You have half an hour, Prime. Jolt took some minor damage I will see to in the meanwhile.”
The medic vanished into the adjoining room without waiting for an answer, and Ironhide was left alone with his commander.
“How do you feel?” Optimus Prime asked, and Ironhide couldn't really frown about the concern in his voice. His system scans spoke their own, clear language that he didn't need Ratchet to translate for him. His arm was still offline for a reason, and even Ironhide couldn't argue with that.
“Slagging fine, considering that the 'Cons nearly turned my arm into shrapnel,” Ironhide responded. His cannon was wrecked and deep cuts and scorch marks covered the rest of his arm, and he suspected that the only reason it wasn't covered in oil and coolant and Energon was that someone had cleaned it while he was out of it. He tried to access the relevant memory files but found nothing but sudden, sharp pain and the roar of an explosion in his audio receivers before the file went blank. “What happened?”
“Starscream.”
Explanation enough for someone who had faced the Air Commander in combat too many times to conveniently count, and it revealed more than just the identity of his attacker. Looking at his arm, it had been a powerful blast. Had he taken it dead in the chest, he wouldn't have woken up at all.
Ironhide finally nodded. “Thank you.”
Optimus Prime looked almost bemused at that, and Ironhide snorted. “We both know the slagger doesn't miss. I failed to watch my back properly. He had a clear shot. I'm still online, so someone stopped the glitch-spawn, and I have a pretty strong suspicion it was you.”
One large hand reached down to grasp Ironhide's smaller, still functional one – physical reassurance, probably, that Ironhide was really there. “You have saved my life before, old friend. Too many times to count. I merely returned the favour.”
Ironhide snorted again, but there was no real heat in his voice, just a tiredness he couldn't completely mask. Even clear of the worst of the blast, it was still a serious injury. “You are our Prime.” To protect you, to lay down our very sparks for you if needed, is our duty, our right, and our privilege, he didn't add, because their Prime already knew that and disapproved of the idea. They'd had that discussion before, too many times to bother with it anymore.
Ironhide didn't say it, and Optimus Prime didn't frown about it, and the grip between them tightened for a moment, reassurance and promise both in that one gesture before Ironhide let go again and lowered his arm, even that small show of strength a drain in his current condition.
“Rest,” his Prime said quietly. “Be well, Ironhide. I need you at my side.”
He definitely looked like scrap for the larger mech say anything as emotional at that, and Ironhide nodded in a silent response, because his processors were slowing down again and even responding felt like it demanded far more energy than he currently had to spare.
“Rest, Ironhide,” that voice repeated as exhaustion reached his optics and the world darkened. “I will stand guard.”
And Ironhide slipped back into recharge.
* * * *
4.
* * * *
“He is an Autobot,” Optimus Prime stated, and his voice did not invite argument. “It was his choice. Freedom is the right of all sentient beings. Wheelie may have been born a Decepticon, but he has the freedom to make his own decision, regardless of who or what may have raised him.”
“I am not a human, Prime. I am not moved by speeches.” Sideswipe, resting utterly still on his two wheels, the tip of one massive sword lightly resting on the ground in what he would claim was an issue of balance, if anyone had dared to ask. An unlikely excuse at best, since no one who had been in contact with him had any doubts that he could balance on a blade's edge if needed and never waver an inch, but it was still an excuse and it was good enough for Sideswipe.
If the filthy little 'Con stayed, the sword would, too. Preferably right in the Pit-spawned creature's processors.
“He was of great assistance,” Optimus Prime continued, as unmoved by Sideswipe's deliberate stance as Sideswipe himself had been by his commander's words. “Without him, Sam would not have found Jetfire, nor the solar harvester and the Tomb of the Primes.”
“He is a pathetic, filthy, 'Con-spawned glitch,” Sideswipe stated and his optics narrowed slightly. “He talked because he valued his own life beyond their cause. He is no more moved by our cause than Megatron or Starscream would be. He merely plays a pet to the human to spare his own sorry existence. A worthy enemy would have died as a warrior, instead of begging a human for his life like the pathetic creature he is.”
“A human,” Optimus Prime reminded him firmly, “killed Megatron in our first battle here. If Wheelie had chosen to blindly follow Decepticon orders, none of us would have been here now. His assistance enabled Sam to bring my spark back. Ultimately, it stopped the solar harvester and the Fallen.”
“A 'Con,” Sideswipe repeated, but the slight change in his stance revealed a moment of hesitation, backing down slightly in the face of his leader's words. It was Optimus Prime. Optimus Prime, who had been torn from them and brought back again through events that still shook Sideswipe's core if he truly paused to consider them, and even if every processor in him screamed their disagreement with the Prime's words, Sideswipe would follow orders. This was his Prime. Whatever their disagreements, programming and respect and experience overruled it.
“An Autobot,” Optimus Prime stated, unyielding, and Sideswipe bowed his head in silent acceptance.
He had said his piece, and Optimus Prime had listened but not changed his mind. Sideswipe had done what he could. He still did not trust the pathetic piece of scrap that followed the human female, but he would keep a close eye on it and wait until the glitch made its move. It was all he could do.
His Prime had made the decision.
Sideswipe would obey.
* * * *
5.
* * * *
There were lifesigns somewhere underneath the rubble. Faint and growing slowly fainter, but that only made Optimus work faster, making his way through the layer of rubble that had been the target building of NEST team Alpha. There were fourteen communication channels at work and Optimus listened to them all as NEST fought to get the damage under control.
- Base, this is Bravo. Ironhide and Sideswipe are in stasis lock, evac is underway. ETA is--- shit, it's going to take at least twelve hours to get them to Ratchet. Transmitting scans – someone get him on the line!-
His sensors, trained on the lifesigns and pushed to their limits, picked up the sound of a heartbeat, but it was weak and uneven and even without medical training or the proper equipment, Optimus could still tell that their missing NEST member was in a serious condition.
- Bravo, this is Ratchet. Scans received. Stabilise them, and keep them both in stasis lock for the duration of the flight. Transmitting instructions now. Switch to medic, keep the chatter off of the main channel. Ironhide has priority.-
He worked as fast as he dared while keeping the risk of damage from accidentally shifting the rubble to a minimum, and he was aware of the human search and rescue team nearby, keeping out of his way as he made his way towards their missing comrade much faster than they could have managed themselves.
The heartbeat was still a constant on his sensors, but weak. So very, very weak. Humans, Optimus had been painfully reminded on more occasions than he wished, were a fragile species.
- Base, this is MEDEVAC 1. Human evac underway, MEDEVAC 2 approaching. Eight wounded, three KIA, one MIA. We have four immediates on board. ETA at field hospital is twelve minutes. Primary emergency is full-thickness burns and internal injuries. Transmitting data now.-
- Copy that, MEDEVAC 1. Data received. There's a team standing by to meet you.-
Torn metal groaned under Optimus' grip and yielded as he twisted it aside, and the rubble stayed mercifully stable as several large pieces of concrete were tossed to the side as well.
The heartbeat faltered, erratic beats triggering multiple alarms in his processors before it stabilised again, and Optimus picked up his pace.
Someone moved behind him, stepping closer, and Optimus let them. The search and rescue team carried one of Ratchet's newly developed scanners intended for humans, and it was already fast at work as Optimus finally pulled aside the last bit of rubble and revealed the unconscious human underneath.
A soft curse behind him, as much from the sight of their comrade as from the results from the scanner, and Optimus felt his own sensors respond in sympathy as they received the data as well.
- Ratchet, this is Bravo. We stabilised Sideswipe, but Ironhide's still losing Energon. We think it might be internal damage but we can't get in there to check. Transmitting updated scans now.-
- Bravo, this is Ratchet. Scans received. Transmitting instructions. Find the leak and fix it, or he won't be online for long enough to get back to base. You may need to remove part of his exterior plating, but we can repair that damage later. Priority is the Energon leak.-
- Base, this is MEDEVAC 2. We are underway, ETA is fourteen minutes. Four delayed, no immediates.-
The human team was moving even as Optimus stepped back, but their expressions clearly told the mech the seriousness of the situation, even if the scan hadn't. He wanted to contact Ratchet about Ironhide's condition but didn't, because the medic would be busy enough already and right now, there was nothing Optimus could do to help.
“Jesus.” A whispered almost-curse, but Optimus' audio receivers picked up on it anyway, and he watched silently as the last member of NEST team Alpha was carefully moved to a stretcher. A moment later, the man had been injected with a strong anaesthetic while a medic redid the scans, and Optimus was not surprised when the leader of the team didn't wait for the confirmed results. The scans were reliable and repeating them would change nothing. At most, it would add unnecessary details to what they already knew and could do nothing about.
On Optimus' scanners, the heartbeat slowed and evened a bit as the foreign substance took effect, and after a moment of hesitation, he deactivated the alarms that had kept watch over the weakened lifesigns.
Beside him, the commander of the rescue team touched his radio. “Base, this is Rescue. MIA has been located.” A deep breath and Optimus saw the human close his eyes for a moment. “Don't bother with MEDEVAC.”
There was a moment of silence at the other end of the line.
- Rescue, this is base. We copy that. Proceed to airfield. We need to get Big Buddha back here, too.-
“Fuck.” Another whispered curse, and then the human took a tired look around at the chaotic mess of rubble and twisted metal that surrounded them, and finally looked at Optimus, a bit hesitant. “Would you...?”
He gestured at the stretcher, and Optimus nodded. He was a large mech and the stretcher was dwarfed by his hands as he gently, gently lifted it up and carefully made his way across what had once been a solid structure. The rescue team behind him had enough difficulties moving through the devastation on their own. Carrying a wounded comrade with them would have made for slow and uneven progress at best and while the scanners showed the man to be unconscious and under the influence of heavy anaesthetics, no one wanted to risk anything. It still mattered to them, even now.
He kept a scanner on the human cradled in his hands and listened silently as the heartbeat grew fainter still.
- Bravo, MEDEVACs, this is base. Alpha team is accounted for. Eight wounded, four KIA.-
Humanity was a fragile species, the medical scan had shown that in details that Optimus was already too familiar with, and still they fought at their side and returned to continue the battle even as they saw their comrades fall at their side. The least they could do in return, Optimus felt, was honour the sacrifices of those small allies.
- Base, this is MEDEVAC 1. ETA to field hospital is three minutes. Transmitting updated scans.-
Optimus crossed the last bit of rubble and kneeled by the NEST search and rescue vehicles. Behind him, the human team was still struggling to keep up, and after a moment of thought, he kept the stretcher in his hands and simply waited as the human team worked their way to the vehicles as well.
- Field team, base, this is MEDEVAC 1, ETA is ninety seconds.-
His sensors picked up two more faint beats, and then the sound faltered for a moment as the heart struggled to continue. Stubbornness, Optimus Prime realised and felt something twist in his spark. Humanity was fragile, flesh and bone and skin, but humanity could be strong as well, and he had fought alongside human soldiers long enough to understand how strong their willpower could be.
- Ratchet, this is Bravo. We stabilised Ironhide, but we're not sure it's going to last all the way to base, not if we hit turbulence. Transmitting updated scans.-
- Base, this is MEDEVAC 2. ETA to field hospital is six minutes. Transmitting updated scans.-
- MEDEVAC 2, this is base. Copy that. MEDEVAC 1 has arrived at field hospital.-
Behind him, the rescue team appeared from the rubble. One member took a hesitant step towards Optimus, but his commander raised his hand slightly and stopped the man in his tracks, all without a word being said. They all looked as helpless as Optimus himself felt at that moment, weariness clear in the commander's eyes as he looked at the mech and nodded once, tired and resigned.
Optimus returned the gesture with a slow nod of his own in silent understanding, and then he turned his attention back to the broken figure in his hands and did the only thing he could do.
“The Decepticon is dead,” he said quietly and spoke for the first time since he had arrived in the aftermath of it all. “Your team has been evacuated. They are safe.”
None of them truly understood what the human mind was capable of in situations of extreme pressure, but they had all seen allies survive who should have died, and Optimus had learned not to underestimate that peculiarity. Realistically, the human in his hands would not be capable of thought or sensation with injuries as extensive as those, nor with the sort of chemicals injected in his bloodstream. Realistically, he should not have survived under the rubble, but humans had a habit of defying realistic expectations and Optimus realised that as well.
Another struggling heartbeat on his scanners, too uneven to be driven by anything but sheer determination, and Optimus shifted one hand slightly to rest one finger gently against the shoulder of his small ally.
“You are safe,” he repeated, aware of the silent struggle in the small body, aware of the battle that was already lost and the Decepticon body somewhere in the rubble around them, brought down at a cost that never ceased to pain his spark. “The battle is won. You can rest.”
A last, faint heartbeat appeared on his scanners, almost too faint for him to feel.
Then it was silent.
Rating: PG-13 for language.
Disclaimer: Absolutely not mine. Alas.
Warnings: Spoilers for RotF, but not the books or comics, most of which I haven't read and will cheerfully ignore. Slight AU from the very end of RotF.
Summary: Sometimes, even Optimus Prime can only watch. Four lives he saved – and one that he couldn't. Ca. 4400 words.
A/N: An anonymous commenter offered the bunny and it bit. Set in the same AU 'verse as the previous A Series of Four fics but they're not needed for background information and this can be read as a stand-alone just fine. The fifth one covers an incident that will show up in a future fic as well.
Sideswipe is completely movie-verse. Which was a bit of a headache, what with him having, like, two lines. So, uh, yeah. I am very, very sorry if he's OOC. ...And while we're at it, I probably fail at writing radio communication as well. Sorry about that, too.
* * * *
1.
* * * *
Eventually, Sam stopped counting. It wasn't for lack of motivation, either. It was mostly the fact that every time he did try to count, he ended up with a whole range of possibilities rather than just one number to stare at. If he went far enough back, technically Optimus saved his life when the Autobot leader sent Bumblebee to Earth to watch over him and in doing so kept the 'Cons from getting to him. It wasn't Optimus himself saving his life personally, but it probably still counted in the big tally, and if he counted that, it just opened up for a whole bunch of 'what ifs' and finally Sam had just given up.
Optimus had mentioned on more than one occasion that he owed his life to Sam. Sam really disagreed on that. Optimus had done more of his share of life-saving in turn, and no matter what the Prime might say, Sam was nowhere near making up for that.
Occasionally he wondered what one human life was compared to a species that lived longer than the entire human race had existed. He had never mentioned that to Optimus, of course, but he still wondered. He had destroyed the Allspark, and when it had started to show up in his brain, he had done everything he could to get it back out again.
Occasionally, he wondered about that, too. All that was left now was echoes. An affinity for math-related subjects, Cybertronian words that he remembered but didn't understand, and he didn't like to linger on the thought of what might have happened if that knowledge had stayed in his brain. He could accept the thought that he would have gone insane, but he still avoided the dark thoughts in the back of his mind that wondered how much of the Allspark would have been in him by that point; how much he could have done for the species he owed so much. NEST readily put their lives on the line for the sake of the Autobots and Earth, and in those darker moods he suspected that more than a few of them would have let things run their course if they had been in his place, if it meant having at least part of that Allspark back.
It hadn't been them, though. It had been Samuel Witwicky, and Sam was a teenager and risking his life in sudden battle was one thing but going insane and knowing it all the while made some primal fear in the back of his mind rear and violently shove the thought aside.
“You're brooding again,” Mikaela murmured against his neck, sun-warmed body shifting against his own. She smelled like sand and salt and sunscreen, and he found himself responding cheekily before he was even aware of it.
“'Thinking'. The term you're looking for is 'thinking'. I'm a hero, right? Heroes don't brood. They think.”
He felt her smirk against his neck. “Some heroes do, and you're brooding.” A pause, and her hand combed through his hair, one thumb gently caressing his ear. “The Allspark again?”
Sam was silent, but then, he didn't actually need to answer. She knew him too well not to get it right in one. “He preferred to destroy it rather than let it fall into Megatron's hands. Do you really think he would have chosen it over your life and sanity? Even if letting that happen would somehow magically have brought the Allspark back, he wouldn't have done it. You know that.”
“I know,” Sam admitted quietly and scribbled absent-minded Cybertronian glyphs in the sand. In another world, it might have been important words. Now it was just the favourite curses that had stuck from Ratchet's course. “And you know, I'm not sure I would have done it, either. Everyone thinks I'm a hero, but if someone told me to give my sanity for the Allspark, I... I don't know. I died in Egypt but I don't even remember much. It didn't even hurt much. I was just surprised. Going slowly insane and knowing it...” he trailed off and stared at his scribbles in the sand. “Optimus would have done it in my place. 'Bee'd have done it. Ironhide. Will. Epps...”
“And you know what?” Mikaela murmured against his ear. “So would you. You're not a soldier, Sam. You'd have done what you had to, because that's who you are and that's why I love you, but you're not a soldier and you're not supposed to be one. You never got the chance to walk away. They signed up for this. You never did.”
Mikaela fell silent and Sam didn't respond as he stared unseeingly at the sand.
He'd never signed up for it, but the option was still there, and sometimes it scared Sam, too. He wanted to help. He wanted to fight. He wanted to be someone else than the kid who got everyone in trouble and kept almost getting himself killed trying to make everything all right again. He wanted to be useful and not just a pawn that people could target and manipulate as they wanted because he couldn't fight back. He wanted to be more than just 'the kid', but he had seen enough already to know that being something else meant making decisions he didn't want, taking risks that could get him killed, week after week after week, and doing it knowing that there was a very real risk that he would see friends killed in battles that they could never talk about.
There was a NEST uniform neatly folded in a locker in the barracks, and that had been more than just Will's offer, and Sam knew that. It wouldn't have been there without Optimus Prime's blessings. He had the chance to walk away this time. He hadn't signed anywhere and Optimus and 'Bee would probably prefer to have him safe and sound somewhere else, anyway, and there wasn't a single person on base other than Sam himself who didn't agree that he had already done everything that could be expected of him and then some.
He hadn't been given a choice about getting involved in the first place, but he didn't have to stay involved. He could just... leave. New home, new name, whole new identity. He could be someone other than the Samuel Witwicky that the whole world was looking for.
Optimus Prime had given him that choice. This time, Sam could walk away.
He wasn't going to.
* * * *
2.
* * * *
It had started with the Twins. Quite a lot of headaches did, actually, and it was still a source of bemusement to Optimus that two mechs could be such a childish terror on base and still show a remarkable level of competence when battle took a turn for the worse. Ironhide had theorised once, in more colourful terms, that their competence in battle came from a general lack of intelligence – that they were simply too stupid to understand the concept of fear. Occasionally, Optimus was inclined to agree.
It had started with the Twins, and with an almost complete lack of Decepticon activity for close to a month, it wasn't really a surprise to him, either. To be honest, given the level of boredom most of NEST currently faced, everyone had been remarkably well-behaved.
“Oh, man! Ain't no way in Pit I'm gonna get near that thing! That is one fuug-le organic! I seen Decepticreeps less fugly!”
Skids, by the sound of it, his voice coming from somewhere outside of the hangar Optimus found himself in, and the large mech did not even need to consider the situation before he was moving outside with quick strides. 'Organic', he strongly suspected, meant that they had encountered some of the native wildlife, and presumably not something that was neither intelligent enough nor fast enough to have left immediately.
“Still prettier'n yo aft!” Mudflap's voice retorted, and Skids' response came almost instantly.
“An' smarter'n you, slagface!”
“You so stupid, you make 'Cons look smart!”
Optimus Prime stepped outside and was not surprised by what he saw. The Twins already lost in their own argument, surrounded by tarmac, sunlight, and one small organic creature with an exoskeleton, watching the two Autobots with raised claws and already forgotten by them again.
He was already moving towards the creature when there was the distinctive sound of metal striking metal, followed by the just as distinctive sound of said metal hitting tarmac. Skids and Mudflap rolled away on the runway, punches interspaced by Cybertronian curses, and thankfully they were moving away from the small, organic being.
Optimus Prime made a sound that human ears might have interpreted as a sigh, and then he bent down and carefully picked up the clawed creature. Birgus latro, his processors informed him, and even though it was a large specimen of its kind, it was still dwarfed by his hand.
“You made an unfortunate choice in territory,” he informed it as he strode across the tarmac, away from the still-arguing mechs and towards an area of vegetation that a quick Internet search confirmed was suitable for the creature in his hand. He kneeled at the edge of it and carefully placed the creature on the ground again. “Away you go, little one,” he murmured. “Stay away from the Twins next time.”
The coconut crab, predictably, did not respond.
Optimus didn't mind.
* * * *
3.
* * * *
Ironhide came out of recharge to the image of Optimus Prime quietly discussing something or another with Ratchet, and the realisation that he was in the infirmary.
Again.
“-The rest is all minor, although it will take at least two weeks to fix up his arm completely. Getting it functional will take three or four days on its own, and I intend to keep him here for the duration of that,” Ratchet concluded, and Ironhide almost started to argue until his own system diagnostics finished their scans and he stayed silent.
“To ensure that Starscream's weapons did not have... side-effects,” Optimus Prime said, and it was more of a statement than a guess.
Ratchet only nodded, and then glanced at his patient. “He's awake. You have half an hour, Prime. Jolt took some minor damage I will see to in the meanwhile.”
The medic vanished into the adjoining room without waiting for an answer, and Ironhide was left alone with his commander.
“How do you feel?” Optimus Prime asked, and Ironhide couldn't really frown about the concern in his voice. His system scans spoke their own, clear language that he didn't need Ratchet to translate for him. His arm was still offline for a reason, and even Ironhide couldn't argue with that.
“Slagging fine, considering that the 'Cons nearly turned my arm into shrapnel,” Ironhide responded. His cannon was wrecked and deep cuts and scorch marks covered the rest of his arm, and he suspected that the only reason it wasn't covered in oil and coolant and Energon was that someone had cleaned it while he was out of it. He tried to access the relevant memory files but found nothing but sudden, sharp pain and the roar of an explosion in his audio receivers before the file went blank. “What happened?”
“Starscream.”
Explanation enough for someone who had faced the Air Commander in combat too many times to conveniently count, and it revealed more than just the identity of his attacker. Looking at his arm, it had been a powerful blast. Had he taken it dead in the chest, he wouldn't have woken up at all.
Ironhide finally nodded. “Thank you.”
Optimus Prime looked almost bemused at that, and Ironhide snorted. “We both know the slagger doesn't miss. I failed to watch my back properly. He had a clear shot. I'm still online, so someone stopped the glitch-spawn, and I have a pretty strong suspicion it was you.”
One large hand reached down to grasp Ironhide's smaller, still functional one – physical reassurance, probably, that Ironhide was really there. “You have saved my life before, old friend. Too many times to count. I merely returned the favour.”
Ironhide snorted again, but there was no real heat in his voice, just a tiredness he couldn't completely mask. Even clear of the worst of the blast, it was still a serious injury. “You are our Prime.” To protect you, to lay down our very sparks for you if needed, is our duty, our right, and our privilege, he didn't add, because their Prime already knew that and disapproved of the idea. They'd had that discussion before, too many times to bother with it anymore.
Ironhide didn't say it, and Optimus Prime didn't frown about it, and the grip between them tightened for a moment, reassurance and promise both in that one gesture before Ironhide let go again and lowered his arm, even that small show of strength a drain in his current condition.
“Rest,” his Prime said quietly. “Be well, Ironhide. I need you at my side.”
He definitely looked like scrap for the larger mech say anything as emotional at that, and Ironhide nodded in a silent response, because his processors were slowing down again and even responding felt like it demanded far more energy than he currently had to spare.
“Rest, Ironhide,” that voice repeated as exhaustion reached his optics and the world darkened. “I will stand guard.”
And Ironhide slipped back into recharge.
* * * *
4.
* * * *
“He is an Autobot,” Optimus Prime stated, and his voice did not invite argument. “It was his choice. Freedom is the right of all sentient beings. Wheelie may have been born a Decepticon, but he has the freedom to make his own decision, regardless of who or what may have raised him.”
“I am not a human, Prime. I am not moved by speeches.” Sideswipe, resting utterly still on his two wheels, the tip of one massive sword lightly resting on the ground in what he would claim was an issue of balance, if anyone had dared to ask. An unlikely excuse at best, since no one who had been in contact with him had any doubts that he could balance on a blade's edge if needed and never waver an inch, but it was still an excuse and it was good enough for Sideswipe.
If the filthy little 'Con stayed, the sword would, too. Preferably right in the Pit-spawned creature's processors.
“He was of great assistance,” Optimus Prime continued, as unmoved by Sideswipe's deliberate stance as Sideswipe himself had been by his commander's words. “Without him, Sam would not have found Jetfire, nor the solar harvester and the Tomb of the Primes.”
“He is a pathetic, filthy, 'Con-spawned glitch,” Sideswipe stated and his optics narrowed slightly. “He talked because he valued his own life beyond their cause. He is no more moved by our cause than Megatron or Starscream would be. He merely plays a pet to the human to spare his own sorry existence. A worthy enemy would have died as a warrior, instead of begging a human for his life like the pathetic creature he is.”
“A human,” Optimus Prime reminded him firmly, “killed Megatron in our first battle here. If Wheelie had chosen to blindly follow Decepticon orders, none of us would have been here now. His assistance enabled Sam to bring my spark back. Ultimately, it stopped the solar harvester and the Fallen.”
“A 'Con,” Sideswipe repeated, but the slight change in his stance revealed a moment of hesitation, backing down slightly in the face of his leader's words. It was Optimus Prime. Optimus Prime, who had been torn from them and brought back again through events that still shook Sideswipe's core if he truly paused to consider them, and even if every processor in him screamed their disagreement with the Prime's words, Sideswipe would follow orders. This was his Prime. Whatever their disagreements, programming and respect and experience overruled it.
“An Autobot,” Optimus Prime stated, unyielding, and Sideswipe bowed his head in silent acceptance.
He had said his piece, and Optimus Prime had listened but not changed his mind. Sideswipe had done what he could. He still did not trust the pathetic piece of scrap that followed the human female, but he would keep a close eye on it and wait until the glitch made its move. It was all he could do.
His Prime had made the decision.
Sideswipe would obey.
* * * *
5.
* * * *
There were lifesigns somewhere underneath the rubble. Faint and growing slowly fainter, but that only made Optimus work faster, making his way through the layer of rubble that had been the target building of NEST team Alpha. There were fourteen communication channels at work and Optimus listened to them all as NEST fought to get the damage under control.
- Base, this is Bravo. Ironhide and Sideswipe are in stasis lock, evac is underway. ETA is--- shit, it's going to take at least twelve hours to get them to Ratchet. Transmitting scans – someone get him on the line!-
His sensors, trained on the lifesigns and pushed to their limits, picked up the sound of a heartbeat, but it was weak and uneven and even without medical training or the proper equipment, Optimus could still tell that their missing NEST member was in a serious condition.
- Bravo, this is Ratchet. Scans received. Stabilise them, and keep them both in stasis lock for the duration of the flight. Transmitting instructions now. Switch to medic, keep the chatter off of the main channel. Ironhide has priority.-
He worked as fast as he dared while keeping the risk of damage from accidentally shifting the rubble to a minimum, and he was aware of the human search and rescue team nearby, keeping out of his way as he made his way towards their missing comrade much faster than they could have managed themselves.
The heartbeat was still a constant on his sensors, but weak. So very, very weak. Humans, Optimus had been painfully reminded on more occasions than he wished, were a fragile species.
- Base, this is MEDEVAC 1. Human evac underway, MEDEVAC 2 approaching. Eight wounded, three KIA, one MIA. We have four immediates on board. ETA at field hospital is twelve minutes. Primary emergency is full-thickness burns and internal injuries. Transmitting data now.-
- Copy that, MEDEVAC 1. Data received. There's a team standing by to meet you.-
Torn metal groaned under Optimus' grip and yielded as he twisted it aside, and the rubble stayed mercifully stable as several large pieces of concrete were tossed to the side as well.
The heartbeat faltered, erratic beats triggering multiple alarms in his processors before it stabilised again, and Optimus picked up his pace.
Someone moved behind him, stepping closer, and Optimus let them. The search and rescue team carried one of Ratchet's newly developed scanners intended for humans, and it was already fast at work as Optimus finally pulled aside the last bit of rubble and revealed the unconscious human underneath.
A soft curse behind him, as much from the sight of their comrade as from the results from the scanner, and Optimus felt his own sensors respond in sympathy as they received the data as well.
- Ratchet, this is Bravo. We stabilised Sideswipe, but Ironhide's still losing Energon. We think it might be internal damage but we can't get in there to check. Transmitting updated scans now.-
- Bravo, this is Ratchet. Scans received. Transmitting instructions. Find the leak and fix it, or he won't be online for long enough to get back to base. You may need to remove part of his exterior plating, but we can repair that damage later. Priority is the Energon leak.-
- Base, this is MEDEVAC 2. We are underway, ETA is fourteen minutes. Four delayed, no immediates.-
The human team was moving even as Optimus stepped back, but their expressions clearly told the mech the seriousness of the situation, even if the scan hadn't. He wanted to contact Ratchet about Ironhide's condition but didn't, because the medic would be busy enough already and right now, there was nothing Optimus could do to help.
“Jesus.” A whispered almost-curse, but Optimus' audio receivers picked up on it anyway, and he watched silently as the last member of NEST team Alpha was carefully moved to a stretcher. A moment later, the man had been injected with a strong anaesthetic while a medic redid the scans, and Optimus was not surprised when the leader of the team didn't wait for the confirmed results. The scans were reliable and repeating them would change nothing. At most, it would add unnecessary details to what they already knew and could do nothing about.
On Optimus' scanners, the heartbeat slowed and evened a bit as the foreign substance took effect, and after a moment of hesitation, he deactivated the alarms that had kept watch over the weakened lifesigns.
Beside him, the commander of the rescue team touched his radio. “Base, this is Rescue. MIA has been located.” A deep breath and Optimus saw the human close his eyes for a moment. “Don't bother with MEDEVAC.”
There was a moment of silence at the other end of the line.
- Rescue, this is base. We copy that. Proceed to airfield. We need to get Big Buddha back here, too.-
“Fuck.” Another whispered curse, and then the human took a tired look around at the chaotic mess of rubble and twisted metal that surrounded them, and finally looked at Optimus, a bit hesitant. “Would you...?”
He gestured at the stretcher, and Optimus nodded. He was a large mech and the stretcher was dwarfed by his hands as he gently, gently lifted it up and carefully made his way across what had once been a solid structure. The rescue team behind him had enough difficulties moving through the devastation on their own. Carrying a wounded comrade with them would have made for slow and uneven progress at best and while the scanners showed the man to be unconscious and under the influence of heavy anaesthetics, no one wanted to risk anything. It still mattered to them, even now.
He kept a scanner on the human cradled in his hands and listened silently as the heartbeat grew fainter still.
- Bravo, MEDEVACs, this is base. Alpha team is accounted for. Eight wounded, four KIA.-
Humanity was a fragile species, the medical scan had shown that in details that Optimus was already too familiar with, and still they fought at their side and returned to continue the battle even as they saw their comrades fall at their side. The least they could do in return, Optimus felt, was honour the sacrifices of those small allies.
- Base, this is MEDEVAC 1. ETA to field hospital is three minutes. Transmitting updated scans.-
Optimus crossed the last bit of rubble and kneeled by the NEST search and rescue vehicles. Behind him, the human team was still struggling to keep up, and after a moment of thought, he kept the stretcher in his hands and simply waited as the human team worked their way to the vehicles as well.
- Field team, base, this is MEDEVAC 1, ETA is ninety seconds.-
His sensors picked up two more faint beats, and then the sound faltered for a moment as the heart struggled to continue. Stubbornness, Optimus Prime realised and felt something twist in his spark. Humanity was fragile, flesh and bone and skin, but humanity could be strong as well, and he had fought alongside human soldiers long enough to understand how strong their willpower could be.
- Ratchet, this is Bravo. We stabilised Ironhide, but we're not sure it's going to last all the way to base, not if we hit turbulence. Transmitting updated scans.-
- Base, this is MEDEVAC 2. ETA to field hospital is six minutes. Transmitting updated scans.-
- MEDEVAC 2, this is base. Copy that. MEDEVAC 1 has arrived at field hospital.-
Behind him, the rescue team appeared from the rubble. One member took a hesitant step towards Optimus, but his commander raised his hand slightly and stopped the man in his tracks, all without a word being said. They all looked as helpless as Optimus himself felt at that moment, weariness clear in the commander's eyes as he looked at the mech and nodded once, tired and resigned.
Optimus returned the gesture with a slow nod of his own in silent understanding, and then he turned his attention back to the broken figure in his hands and did the only thing he could do.
“The Decepticon is dead,” he said quietly and spoke for the first time since he had arrived in the aftermath of it all. “Your team has been evacuated. They are safe.”
None of them truly understood what the human mind was capable of in situations of extreme pressure, but they had all seen allies survive who should have died, and Optimus had learned not to underestimate that peculiarity. Realistically, the human in his hands would not be capable of thought or sensation with injuries as extensive as those, nor with the sort of chemicals injected in his bloodstream. Realistically, he should not have survived under the rubble, but humans had a habit of defying realistic expectations and Optimus realised that as well.
Another struggling heartbeat on his scanners, too uneven to be driven by anything but sheer determination, and Optimus shifted one hand slightly to rest one finger gently against the shoulder of his small ally.
“You are safe,” he repeated, aware of the silent struggle in the small body, aware of the battle that was already lost and the Decepticon body somewhere in the rubble around them, brought down at a cost that never ceased to pain his spark. “The battle is won. You can rest.”
A last, faint heartbeat appeared on his scanners, almost too faint for him to feel.
Then it was silent.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-13 07:37 am (UTC)Last one...::wibbles:: Very well done.
--tainry
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-13 07:41 am (UTC)Thank you very much :D