Four Threats
Oct. 6th, 2009 08:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sorciereTitle: Four Threats That Sarah Lennox Made... and One That She Didn't
Rating: PG-13 for Cybertronian curses
Disclaimer: Nothing in here is mine and I promise to put them back in the box safe and sound when I'm done playing.
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: Waiting never got easier – Sarah Lennox just learned to cope. Ca. 3600 words.
A/N: Set in the same slightly AU 'verse as the previous 'Four'-fics but they're not needed for background information and this can be read as a stand-alone just fine. It's a companion-piece of sorts to 'Four Days', partially covering what happened on Diego Garcia while Will and Barricade were stranded.
* * * *
1.
* * * *
She knew before the planes landed. She knew before they had ever left Saudi Arabian airspace. People knew her orders and Bobby Epps had contacted her, because he knew she would rather be given the chance to worry than know nothing at all.
She knew before the planes landed and she was there when they did, because while Will was not on board, the others were, and there was someone that she needed to talk to.
It was morning, it was cloudy, and the air was heavy and humid and threatening rain, but she didn't care. Annabelle was watching morning cartoons at the home of one of the few other army wives in their part of the base, a no-nonsense woman whom the little girl considered more an aunt than anything, and Sarah had waited silently by the hangar as the two massive planes approached.
She waited just as silently as they came to a stop near the hangar, and she only moved when the cargo hold opened and the two NEST teams came down the ramp, followed by three aliens in alt-modes.
Robert Epps spotted her before she could say anything.
“Sarah...” Someone else might have called his voice insensitive and harder than appropriate, but someone else didn't know her like Bobby Epps did. Will was out there and pity wasn't going to bring him back.
She held up a hand and stopped him before he could continue. “Where is he?”
The soldier ran a hand over his face, doubtlessly tired and exhausted, but not sending her away just yet, and she could work with that. “We don't know. We haven't been able to establish contact with his tracer yet.” A pause, and then he settled for honestly. “It could have been destroyed. It could have been shielded somewhere. It could have been temporarily offlined. We don't know. The 'Cons planned this one to target Sam.”
Translated, she might already be a widow and they just didn't know it yet, but she pushed that thought very firmly aside.
“Will got in the way.” And of course he would have, she knew him well enough for that, especially when the target had been someone who was really just still a kid, and she wasn't surprised when Bobby Epps just nodded.
Sarah hesitated, and then she took a slow breath. “He's out there, Bobby.”
Don't leave a man behind, don't leave him in Decepticon hands, don't leave him out there, she didn't say, because the man in front of her knew that just fine without being reminded.
“Get him back, Bobby,” she said quietly as people moved past around them and Ironhide lingered nearby. “Get my husband back, or I will go after him myself.”
Her words had been deadly serious and Robert Epps responded in kind, the official human commander of NEST straightening before her. “Yes, ma'am.”
It had been twelve hours, and the clock was ticking.
* * * *
2.
* * * *
She had been at home most of the day, trying to give Annabelle the calm and stability she couldn't hope for herself, and only when their young daughter was asleep had Sarah left her in the hands of the army wife who had offered before Sarah could even ask, an understanding look in her eyes.
Thus midnight found Sarah Lennox in the command centre, watching silently as she had done for hours as people around her worked and no one was willing to throw her out, because it was her husband out there and NEST had never played by ordinary rules. She wasn't alone, though. Mikaela had arrived not long before midnight, looking about as lost as Sarah felt, and after a moment Sarah resolutely got up and crossed the room to where the girl was standing.
“How is Sam?” she asked quietly, and Mikaela looked up, surprise obvious in her features.
“Asleep,” she responded just as quietly. “Or trying to, anyway. He's in the infirmary. The doctors decided it was better to keep him there. He's not... taking it well. He needs sleep, but...” A shrug, helpless.
“Nightmares,” Sarah finished, and there was no question in her voice. She had seen it first-hand herself. “I've seen it with Will, too. It happens to everyone, and Sam hasn't been trained to handle this sort of thing like Will and the others have.” Another moment, and she took the girl's arm and led her to a less-busy part of the room. Mikaela looked like she needed a distraction as much as Sarah did, and the girl came along without resisting.
The chairs were not quite soft but not uncomfortable, either, but still the girl shifted slightly before she sighed. “Is it always like this?” she asked, and continued quietly at Sarah's questioning look. “Waiting. Not knowing. Just... sitting. Waiting.”
The sound of activity around them, a constant buzz just beyond their little corner of the room, and Sarah had long since stopped trying to read something into every single shift of expression she saw on the technicians faces. The humans were busy, the more technologically minded of the Autobots were busy, and Sarah simply watched because there was nothing she could do to help and she wasn't going to get in their way.
There was a lot she could tell the girl, but the truth was that her young husband was part of NEST, too, and he would be out there in the line of fire occasionally as well, and so she settled on honesty.
“Yes.” Silence, and she touched the wedding band on her finger lightly. “If Sam is anything like Will at all... I thought I had lost him in Qatar. Even then, I was waiting.” A soft breath, refusing to think about the fact that she might actually have been made a widow this time. “No survivors. I knew he was dead and all I could do was wait for the knock on my door to make it official.”
But he survived, she didn't add, because Mikaela obviously knew that, and she knew just as well that a lot of other good men hadn't been as lucky.
“But now he's out there,” the girl said quietly and touched her own ring tentatively, like she was really realising for the first time that not all battles were over when the fighting was.
And still there was much more that Sarah could have told her but didn't, because Sam was not a Ranger and Sam was not part of the actual NEST teams, and if there was any sort of justice in the world, the young girl next to her would never have to be in her place – waiting silently for news that might never come, and sometimes not knowing was the worst thing of all, and in the end, Sarah simply nodded.
“He is.” Alive and growling at whatever injuries that Decepticon had given him, because he was still alive, she knew that, and she wasn't a widow yet, because it was Will and he would fight. He had fought his way through Qatar and he would fight his way through this, too. She trusted him in that.
A heartbeat and she changed the topic, because she worried enough about Will for both of them, and the girl had enough to handle as it was. “It wasn't Sam's fault. I'm sure he's blaming himself, but it wasn't his fault.”
“You know he won't agree,” Mikaela said quietly, clenched her hand and watched the play of monitor-light against the gold band, and Sarah's heart twisted for her. She was too young to be dealing with something like that, her and Sam both, and it didn't matter that Will hadn't been much older when he had joined the Rangers. NEST was a very different issue.
Her hand joined Mikaela's, gripped fingers that were younger and carried the marks of engines and welding, and the girl grasped back with silent desperation.
“I know,” Sarah agreed softly. “And you can let him know that if he as much as tries to apologise for this, he'll get babysitting duties every Saturday until Anna is old enough to drive.”
A choked half-snicker at that, and Sarah smiled and brushed a lock of dark hair away from Mikaela's face. “I know it's easier said than done. I know he's still going to blame himself, but it wasn't his fault. Tell him that, honey. It was Will's choice to sign up, it was the Decepticons who decided to make a mess of this, and it was Will's call when he let Sam come along for this one. Will's, and Optimus', and Bumblebee's.” A heartbeat, trying to make the girl understand, because she looked like she felt almost as guilty as the boy probably did. “It was supposed to be an easy mission. Sam's not the one trained to deal with ambushes. Sam's not supposed to be in combat like that. It wasn't Sam's fault he was the target.”
“But they still set up the whole thing for him,” Mikaela said and still didn't look up. “Because they think he's something special, or they want to get to him to make 'Bee and the others hurt, and now we have three humans in the infirmary, and...” She took a shuddering breath. “And it would have been Sam's tracer we were looking for. Should have been.”
“And it was Will's choice to get Sam out of there.” Firm, unrelenting, and finally the girl looked up, eyes wide as she watched Sarah. “My husband made that choice. Not Sam, or you, or anyone else. It's his job, Mikaela. I don't have to like it, but it's his nature, and I knew it when I married him. I never stop worrying when they 'roll out', as they call it. I never stop waiting for that call. I trust Ironhide to watch his back, I trust their team to look out for each other, but in the end, it was his choice and no one else's. He was a Ranger before you two were even in high school. Sam had nothing to do with that. If he wasn't part of NEST, he would have been in the Middle East, or whenever else they decided to send him, because that is his job, too.”
Mikaela nodded silently, and the desperate grip didn't lessen, and Sarah sighed softly. “It wasn't your fault,” she repeated. “Yours or Sam's.”
The girl didn't look convinced, but the grip lessened slightly and the two fell silent as the hum of activity around them continued, undisturbed by the two observers.
On a screen somewhere, numbers changed faithfully as twenty minutes past midnight became twenty-one minutes past.
It had been twenty-eight hours, and the clock kept ticking.
* * * *
3.
* * * *
She found Ratchet in the infirmary, sorting out some sort of tools that looked only vaguely familiar to a non-mechanically-inclined mind. Annabelle was with Mikaela, who had needed the distraction, and in the chaos of all that had followed since they had found the first, faint echoes of the tracer so many hours ago, Sarah hadn't yet had the chance to seek out the medic. He had been busy tracking down the exact location and managed only an hour before, and then things had exploded in organised chaos again as the rescue mission took over.
He looked up at the sound of her entrance, a questioning expression on face plates that showed traces of the same tiredness that the human technicians all showed, and she hesitated slightly.
“Are you busy?” He might be, she suddenly realised. Ironhide was off with the human teams to prepare, and while Sarah wasn't sure she liked the thought of a giant mech like him in a rainforest, she also knew that he had played around in Diego Garcia's forests with her wayward husband, so he at least had some experience with Earth-based vegetation like that.
“No,” the medic said quietly and held out a hand to her, and she obediently stepped into it. “Now that we have located him, this is all in the competent hands of Ironhide and the human NEST troops. Can I help you?”
Sarah let out a slow breath as Ratchet set her lightly on the table, the exhaustion of it all slowly catching up with her. “I wanted to say thank you. Ironhide said you were the one who found the signal again in the first place.”
“I was the one who made those tracers,” Ratchet responded reasonably. “No one knows them better than I do.”
A pale smile. “Still.” The brush of a small hand against a metal finger, someone solid to lean on while they all waited for the rescue mission to be ready to go, and the endless wait that would then follow, and she looked up at him, just a bit hesitant. “Ironhide mentioned...”
“The Decepticon,” Ratchet guessed. “Barricade.” Sarah nodded mutely and the large medic continued. “None of us were made for an environment like that. A well-trained one of your kind would be more likely to survive a situation like that than we would. We know the signal from Will's tracer has moved at a reasonably steady pace, which would imply that he is not seriously wounded. That the Decepticon is still online and following the same trail as Will would imply a temporary truce. Uncommon, but not unheard of, and certainly not in environments as hostile as that.” The light touch of a massive metal finger against her hair in a soothing gesture. “He will be fine, Sarah Lennox. Your mate is strong and Barricade will be no challenge to Ironhide after spending three full days in a rainforest.”
Which, Sarah knew, didn't necessarily mean that something might not still happen, because even when the rescue team was ready, it would still be a full twenty-four hours of transport to get to Will's location, and a lot could happen in that time, but at least it was hope. It was good news, and that was a lot better than the uncertainty she had faced since she got the call from Bobby Epps.
Still, it was a Decepticon out there, and while she had never faced one herself, she had heard more than enough about them from being around her husband and his team.
“If anything's happened to Will, I will have that thing's heart on a platter,” she said, quiet and serious. She wasn't sure how she would manage, but that wasn't really a concern. If anything had happened to Will...
To Ratchet's credit and Sarah's relief, he didn't snort at her threat, however feeble it might be given that she was a tiny human and the Decepticon was a big, alien robot. Instead he paused for a moment and looked almost thoughtful.
“Spark,” he corrected, still with that thoughtful expression. “And to physically move it around like a human heart would not be possible, but I suppose with proper containment...”
“Ironhide would help,” Sarah offered. She had no doubt about that, although if anything had happened to Will, their large guardian would be more likely to kill Barricade on sight, and Sarah was okay with that, too.
“He would,” Ratchet agreed and held out his hand for her. “Perhaps it would be useful for you to become familiar with the fundamentals of our physiology.”
In case Ironhide got wounded somewhere away from the medic, maybe, but more likely just a way to keep her distracted as the minutes dragged on, and Sarah gratefully accepted it as she settled down in his hand and listened to the oddly comforting sound of a twenty foot tall robot talking alien anatomy.
It had been forty-six hours, but at least there was hope.
* * * *
4.
* * * *
The infirmary was silent. However much of a mess her husband had been when they had brought him in, none of his injuries were really serious, and so the resident doctors had left him alone to sleep after patching up what injuries he did have. The arm was the worst of it, apparently, but it had been put in a cast and the infections been dealt with before they could get really bad and he had been given enough painkillers to make sure that nothing would disturb his sleep.
All in all, it was much, much better than it could have been, but Sarah still rested quietly in a chair by her husband's bed, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest and listening to the steady sound of his breath. She was tired, should probably sleep, but they had only just finished with his injuries and part of her still couldn't quite believe that he was really back.
Slim fingers hesitated, then touched his hair so lightly, little more than a brush against dark tips to keep from disturbing him in any way, and then she sighed. “You're going to give me grey hair, you know.” Probably already had, and aged her several years in the process from the sheer amount of worrying she had done about him over the years, for that matter. “You're stuck with me now. Grey-haired crone, that's going to be me. You'll be running around out there and people are going to wonder why you married an old hag like me. You better believe you're stuck with me now, mister.”
He didn't answer, of course, and at least he seemed to rest easily. No nightmares, at least. Maybe he was just too exhausted to have them, or maybe it was the painkillers, but whatever the reason she was grateful for it. The doctors had said he would need rest more than anything, and nightmares wouldn't help on that at all.
Rest. God knew she needed it, too, and hadn't there been a bed they had moved out in the hallway so Ironhide wouldn't step on it when he showed up? She could move it next to Will's, and she'd have him close and it wouldn't be in the way, either.
A heartbeat and then she got up and leaned down to brush a kiss against his forehead, lingering for just a second as she simply enjoyed the familiar scent of him, even buried as it was underneath the smell of doctors and disinfectant and bedsheets.
“If you ever do this again, William Lennox, I will kick your ass myself,” she promised quietly before she straightened and left the room in search of the spare bed.
Time passed, as time does, but this time she didn't care, because now he was home and at least for a moment he was safe.
* * * *
5.
* * * *
She wasn't sure when Ironhide showed up but she woke up to the sound of metal feet trying to quietly slip into the room, and she opened her eyes and watched the large mech as he tried to make himself comfortable. Even if they had tried to adapt it to Cybertronian visitors, it was still a small room to them.
“I apologise for disturbing your recharge,” Ironhide said in a far more quiet voice than she was used to, and she realised he had probably turned down the volume for Will's sake.
“You didn't,” Sarah said just as quietly. “I was just napping.” She paused and caressed Will's hand, warm and soft under her touch. “He's okay. They're good doctors and none of it was serious. He'll need to keep his arm in the cast for a few weeks, and I'll make sure he gets enough rest. He'll be fine again in no time. Annabelle is with Mikaela. She offered to babysit and I wanted to be here when he woke up.”
Ironhide nodded slowly. “Thank you,” he said, and she got the clear impression that he wasn't talking about her quick update on Will's situation. She hesitated, not sure what to say, and then she sighed softly.
“He's my husband,” she finally replied. “I knew I married a Ranger. I knew he would be sent overseas. This place... it's more dangerous, a lot more, but he loves it.” Another gentle caress of his hand. “I love him, Ironhide. I won't cage him for my own comfort or leave him for being what he's always been. I knew who I was marrying, for better or for worse.”
Ironhide gave another slow nod, and she had learned to read his expression well enough to recognise respect when she saw it. “We owe him much.” Silence, still watching her. “His sacrifices are not the only ones that are appreciated.”
She felt a blush creep into her cheeks, like she was back to being a shy teenager, and she looked down as she gripped Will's hand and tried to get her reaction under control.
“You're family,” she said softly. “To all of us.”
Brothers, sisters, older and younger, aunts and uncles and cousins, and what did it matter that they were alien and made of metal when you lived with them on a tiny island so far away from everything else?
“The feeling is mutual,” Ironhide's voice rumbled softly. “Sleep, Sarah Lennox. I will watch over him.”
And safe in the presence of her family, Sarah Lennox slept.
Rating: PG-13 for Cybertronian curses
Disclaimer: Nothing in here is mine and I promise to put them back in the box safe and sound when I'm done playing.
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: Waiting never got easier – Sarah Lennox just learned to cope. Ca. 3600 words.
A/N: Set in the same slightly AU 'verse as the previous 'Four'-fics but they're not needed for background information and this can be read as a stand-alone just fine. It's a companion-piece of sorts to 'Four Days', partially covering what happened on Diego Garcia while Will and Barricade were stranded.
* * * *
1.
* * * *
She knew before the planes landed. She knew before they had ever left Saudi Arabian airspace. People knew her orders and Bobby Epps had contacted her, because he knew she would rather be given the chance to worry than know nothing at all.
She knew before the planes landed and she was there when they did, because while Will was not on board, the others were, and there was someone that she needed to talk to.
It was morning, it was cloudy, and the air was heavy and humid and threatening rain, but she didn't care. Annabelle was watching morning cartoons at the home of one of the few other army wives in their part of the base, a no-nonsense woman whom the little girl considered more an aunt than anything, and Sarah had waited silently by the hangar as the two massive planes approached.
She waited just as silently as they came to a stop near the hangar, and she only moved when the cargo hold opened and the two NEST teams came down the ramp, followed by three aliens in alt-modes.
Robert Epps spotted her before she could say anything.
“Sarah...” Someone else might have called his voice insensitive and harder than appropriate, but someone else didn't know her like Bobby Epps did. Will was out there and pity wasn't going to bring him back.
She held up a hand and stopped him before he could continue. “Where is he?”
The soldier ran a hand over his face, doubtlessly tired and exhausted, but not sending her away just yet, and she could work with that. “We don't know. We haven't been able to establish contact with his tracer yet.” A pause, and then he settled for honestly. “It could have been destroyed. It could have been shielded somewhere. It could have been temporarily offlined. We don't know. The 'Cons planned this one to target Sam.”
Translated, she might already be a widow and they just didn't know it yet, but she pushed that thought very firmly aside.
“Will got in the way.” And of course he would have, she knew him well enough for that, especially when the target had been someone who was really just still a kid, and she wasn't surprised when Bobby Epps just nodded.
Sarah hesitated, and then she took a slow breath. “He's out there, Bobby.”
Don't leave a man behind, don't leave him in Decepticon hands, don't leave him out there, she didn't say, because the man in front of her knew that just fine without being reminded.
“Get him back, Bobby,” she said quietly as people moved past around them and Ironhide lingered nearby. “Get my husband back, or I will go after him myself.”
Her words had been deadly serious and Robert Epps responded in kind, the official human commander of NEST straightening before her. “Yes, ma'am.”
It had been twelve hours, and the clock was ticking.
* * * *
2.
* * * *
She had been at home most of the day, trying to give Annabelle the calm and stability she couldn't hope for herself, and only when their young daughter was asleep had Sarah left her in the hands of the army wife who had offered before Sarah could even ask, an understanding look in her eyes.
Thus midnight found Sarah Lennox in the command centre, watching silently as she had done for hours as people around her worked and no one was willing to throw her out, because it was her husband out there and NEST had never played by ordinary rules. She wasn't alone, though. Mikaela had arrived not long before midnight, looking about as lost as Sarah felt, and after a moment Sarah resolutely got up and crossed the room to where the girl was standing.
“How is Sam?” she asked quietly, and Mikaela looked up, surprise obvious in her features.
“Asleep,” she responded just as quietly. “Or trying to, anyway. He's in the infirmary. The doctors decided it was better to keep him there. He's not... taking it well. He needs sleep, but...” A shrug, helpless.
“Nightmares,” Sarah finished, and there was no question in her voice. She had seen it first-hand herself. “I've seen it with Will, too. It happens to everyone, and Sam hasn't been trained to handle this sort of thing like Will and the others have.” Another moment, and she took the girl's arm and led her to a less-busy part of the room. Mikaela looked like she needed a distraction as much as Sarah did, and the girl came along without resisting.
The chairs were not quite soft but not uncomfortable, either, but still the girl shifted slightly before she sighed. “Is it always like this?” she asked, and continued quietly at Sarah's questioning look. “Waiting. Not knowing. Just... sitting. Waiting.”
The sound of activity around them, a constant buzz just beyond their little corner of the room, and Sarah had long since stopped trying to read something into every single shift of expression she saw on the technicians faces. The humans were busy, the more technologically minded of the Autobots were busy, and Sarah simply watched because there was nothing she could do to help and she wasn't going to get in their way.
There was a lot she could tell the girl, but the truth was that her young husband was part of NEST, too, and he would be out there in the line of fire occasionally as well, and so she settled on honesty.
“Yes.” Silence, and she touched the wedding band on her finger lightly. “If Sam is anything like Will at all... I thought I had lost him in Qatar. Even then, I was waiting.” A soft breath, refusing to think about the fact that she might actually have been made a widow this time. “No survivors. I knew he was dead and all I could do was wait for the knock on my door to make it official.”
But he survived, she didn't add, because Mikaela obviously knew that, and she knew just as well that a lot of other good men hadn't been as lucky.
“But now he's out there,” the girl said quietly and touched her own ring tentatively, like she was really realising for the first time that not all battles were over when the fighting was.
And still there was much more that Sarah could have told her but didn't, because Sam was not a Ranger and Sam was not part of the actual NEST teams, and if there was any sort of justice in the world, the young girl next to her would never have to be in her place – waiting silently for news that might never come, and sometimes not knowing was the worst thing of all, and in the end, Sarah simply nodded.
“He is.” Alive and growling at whatever injuries that Decepticon had given him, because he was still alive, she knew that, and she wasn't a widow yet, because it was Will and he would fight. He had fought his way through Qatar and he would fight his way through this, too. She trusted him in that.
A heartbeat and she changed the topic, because she worried enough about Will for both of them, and the girl had enough to handle as it was. “It wasn't Sam's fault. I'm sure he's blaming himself, but it wasn't his fault.”
“You know he won't agree,” Mikaela said quietly, clenched her hand and watched the play of monitor-light against the gold band, and Sarah's heart twisted for her. She was too young to be dealing with something like that, her and Sam both, and it didn't matter that Will hadn't been much older when he had joined the Rangers. NEST was a very different issue.
Her hand joined Mikaela's, gripped fingers that were younger and carried the marks of engines and welding, and the girl grasped back with silent desperation.
“I know,” Sarah agreed softly. “And you can let him know that if he as much as tries to apologise for this, he'll get babysitting duties every Saturday until Anna is old enough to drive.”
A choked half-snicker at that, and Sarah smiled and brushed a lock of dark hair away from Mikaela's face. “I know it's easier said than done. I know he's still going to blame himself, but it wasn't his fault. Tell him that, honey. It was Will's choice to sign up, it was the Decepticons who decided to make a mess of this, and it was Will's call when he let Sam come along for this one. Will's, and Optimus', and Bumblebee's.” A heartbeat, trying to make the girl understand, because she looked like she felt almost as guilty as the boy probably did. “It was supposed to be an easy mission. Sam's not the one trained to deal with ambushes. Sam's not supposed to be in combat like that. It wasn't Sam's fault he was the target.”
“But they still set up the whole thing for him,” Mikaela said and still didn't look up. “Because they think he's something special, or they want to get to him to make 'Bee and the others hurt, and now we have three humans in the infirmary, and...” She took a shuddering breath. “And it would have been Sam's tracer we were looking for. Should have been.”
“And it was Will's choice to get Sam out of there.” Firm, unrelenting, and finally the girl looked up, eyes wide as she watched Sarah. “My husband made that choice. Not Sam, or you, or anyone else. It's his job, Mikaela. I don't have to like it, but it's his nature, and I knew it when I married him. I never stop worrying when they 'roll out', as they call it. I never stop waiting for that call. I trust Ironhide to watch his back, I trust their team to look out for each other, but in the end, it was his choice and no one else's. He was a Ranger before you two were even in high school. Sam had nothing to do with that. If he wasn't part of NEST, he would have been in the Middle East, or whenever else they decided to send him, because that is his job, too.”
Mikaela nodded silently, and the desperate grip didn't lessen, and Sarah sighed softly. “It wasn't your fault,” she repeated. “Yours or Sam's.”
The girl didn't look convinced, but the grip lessened slightly and the two fell silent as the hum of activity around them continued, undisturbed by the two observers.
On a screen somewhere, numbers changed faithfully as twenty minutes past midnight became twenty-one minutes past.
It had been twenty-eight hours, and the clock kept ticking.
* * * *
3.
* * * *
She found Ratchet in the infirmary, sorting out some sort of tools that looked only vaguely familiar to a non-mechanically-inclined mind. Annabelle was with Mikaela, who had needed the distraction, and in the chaos of all that had followed since they had found the first, faint echoes of the tracer so many hours ago, Sarah hadn't yet had the chance to seek out the medic. He had been busy tracking down the exact location and managed only an hour before, and then things had exploded in organised chaos again as the rescue mission took over.
He looked up at the sound of her entrance, a questioning expression on face plates that showed traces of the same tiredness that the human technicians all showed, and she hesitated slightly.
“Are you busy?” He might be, she suddenly realised. Ironhide was off with the human teams to prepare, and while Sarah wasn't sure she liked the thought of a giant mech like him in a rainforest, she also knew that he had played around in Diego Garcia's forests with her wayward husband, so he at least had some experience with Earth-based vegetation like that.
“No,” the medic said quietly and held out a hand to her, and she obediently stepped into it. “Now that we have located him, this is all in the competent hands of Ironhide and the human NEST troops. Can I help you?”
Sarah let out a slow breath as Ratchet set her lightly on the table, the exhaustion of it all slowly catching up with her. “I wanted to say thank you. Ironhide said you were the one who found the signal again in the first place.”
“I was the one who made those tracers,” Ratchet responded reasonably. “No one knows them better than I do.”
A pale smile. “Still.” The brush of a small hand against a metal finger, someone solid to lean on while they all waited for the rescue mission to be ready to go, and the endless wait that would then follow, and she looked up at him, just a bit hesitant. “Ironhide mentioned...”
“The Decepticon,” Ratchet guessed. “Barricade.” Sarah nodded mutely and the large medic continued. “None of us were made for an environment like that. A well-trained one of your kind would be more likely to survive a situation like that than we would. We know the signal from Will's tracer has moved at a reasonably steady pace, which would imply that he is not seriously wounded. That the Decepticon is still online and following the same trail as Will would imply a temporary truce. Uncommon, but not unheard of, and certainly not in environments as hostile as that.” The light touch of a massive metal finger against her hair in a soothing gesture. “He will be fine, Sarah Lennox. Your mate is strong and Barricade will be no challenge to Ironhide after spending three full days in a rainforest.”
Which, Sarah knew, didn't necessarily mean that something might not still happen, because even when the rescue team was ready, it would still be a full twenty-four hours of transport to get to Will's location, and a lot could happen in that time, but at least it was hope. It was good news, and that was a lot better than the uncertainty she had faced since she got the call from Bobby Epps.
Still, it was a Decepticon out there, and while she had never faced one herself, she had heard more than enough about them from being around her husband and his team.
“If anything's happened to Will, I will have that thing's heart on a platter,” she said, quiet and serious. She wasn't sure how she would manage, but that wasn't really a concern. If anything had happened to Will...
To Ratchet's credit and Sarah's relief, he didn't snort at her threat, however feeble it might be given that she was a tiny human and the Decepticon was a big, alien robot. Instead he paused for a moment and looked almost thoughtful.
“Spark,” he corrected, still with that thoughtful expression. “And to physically move it around like a human heart would not be possible, but I suppose with proper containment...”
“Ironhide would help,” Sarah offered. She had no doubt about that, although if anything had happened to Will, their large guardian would be more likely to kill Barricade on sight, and Sarah was okay with that, too.
“He would,” Ratchet agreed and held out his hand for her. “Perhaps it would be useful for you to become familiar with the fundamentals of our physiology.”
In case Ironhide got wounded somewhere away from the medic, maybe, but more likely just a way to keep her distracted as the minutes dragged on, and Sarah gratefully accepted it as she settled down in his hand and listened to the oddly comforting sound of a twenty foot tall robot talking alien anatomy.
It had been forty-six hours, but at least there was hope.
* * * *
4.
* * * *
The infirmary was silent. However much of a mess her husband had been when they had brought him in, none of his injuries were really serious, and so the resident doctors had left him alone to sleep after patching up what injuries he did have. The arm was the worst of it, apparently, but it had been put in a cast and the infections been dealt with before they could get really bad and he had been given enough painkillers to make sure that nothing would disturb his sleep.
All in all, it was much, much better than it could have been, but Sarah still rested quietly in a chair by her husband's bed, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest and listening to the steady sound of his breath. She was tired, should probably sleep, but they had only just finished with his injuries and part of her still couldn't quite believe that he was really back.
Slim fingers hesitated, then touched his hair so lightly, little more than a brush against dark tips to keep from disturbing him in any way, and then she sighed. “You're going to give me grey hair, you know.” Probably already had, and aged her several years in the process from the sheer amount of worrying she had done about him over the years, for that matter. “You're stuck with me now. Grey-haired crone, that's going to be me. You'll be running around out there and people are going to wonder why you married an old hag like me. You better believe you're stuck with me now, mister.”
He didn't answer, of course, and at least he seemed to rest easily. No nightmares, at least. Maybe he was just too exhausted to have them, or maybe it was the painkillers, but whatever the reason she was grateful for it. The doctors had said he would need rest more than anything, and nightmares wouldn't help on that at all.
Rest. God knew she needed it, too, and hadn't there been a bed they had moved out in the hallway so Ironhide wouldn't step on it when he showed up? She could move it next to Will's, and she'd have him close and it wouldn't be in the way, either.
A heartbeat and then she got up and leaned down to brush a kiss against his forehead, lingering for just a second as she simply enjoyed the familiar scent of him, even buried as it was underneath the smell of doctors and disinfectant and bedsheets.
“If you ever do this again, William Lennox, I will kick your ass myself,” she promised quietly before she straightened and left the room in search of the spare bed.
Time passed, as time does, but this time she didn't care, because now he was home and at least for a moment he was safe.
* * * *
5.
* * * *
She wasn't sure when Ironhide showed up but she woke up to the sound of metal feet trying to quietly slip into the room, and she opened her eyes and watched the large mech as he tried to make himself comfortable. Even if they had tried to adapt it to Cybertronian visitors, it was still a small room to them.
“I apologise for disturbing your recharge,” Ironhide said in a far more quiet voice than she was used to, and she realised he had probably turned down the volume for Will's sake.
“You didn't,” Sarah said just as quietly. “I was just napping.” She paused and caressed Will's hand, warm and soft under her touch. “He's okay. They're good doctors and none of it was serious. He'll need to keep his arm in the cast for a few weeks, and I'll make sure he gets enough rest. He'll be fine again in no time. Annabelle is with Mikaela. She offered to babysit and I wanted to be here when he woke up.”
Ironhide nodded slowly. “Thank you,” he said, and she got the clear impression that he wasn't talking about her quick update on Will's situation. She hesitated, not sure what to say, and then she sighed softly.
“He's my husband,” she finally replied. “I knew I married a Ranger. I knew he would be sent overseas. This place... it's more dangerous, a lot more, but he loves it.” Another gentle caress of his hand. “I love him, Ironhide. I won't cage him for my own comfort or leave him for being what he's always been. I knew who I was marrying, for better or for worse.”
Ironhide gave another slow nod, and she had learned to read his expression well enough to recognise respect when she saw it. “We owe him much.” Silence, still watching her. “His sacrifices are not the only ones that are appreciated.”
She felt a blush creep into her cheeks, like she was back to being a shy teenager, and she looked down as she gripped Will's hand and tried to get her reaction under control.
“You're family,” she said softly. “To all of us.”
Brothers, sisters, older and younger, aunts and uncles and cousins, and what did it matter that they were alien and made of metal when you lived with them on a tiny island so far away from everything else?
“The feeling is mutual,” Ironhide's voice rumbled softly. “Sleep, Sarah Lennox. I will watch over him.”
And safe in the presence of her family, Sarah Lennox slept.