These Paths We Tread (Autobot x OC)

L. Take Me Back To the Start

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The battle was over.

NEST and the Autobots had won.

The Harvester was destroyed.

The Fallen was dead.

Optimus had the Matrix.

The world was safe.

Many had died, but many more were alive, and more survivors were steadily being found and taken care of. Already celebrations were ringing out as men clasped shoulders or even embraced. Laughs and tears and dancing began. Autobots relaxed and rested and reunited with their revived Commander, who seemed even greater before them now than ever before. A great part of it was for the metallic artifact in his hands, which emanated a blue glow that was warm and cool at the same time and felt vaguely familiar to those that touched it—like feeling their own sparks.

However, there was one being who stayed apart, unable to join her friends and family and comrades.

There was no way Catherine could describe it to someone. At least, not in a way they could understand. Yes, humans had the bonds formed in relationships and friendships, but the kind of bonds she had felt had been so much more. She could feel them as something more than a tightening of the heart that one felt when in love, or the lightness of laughter or the sorrow of despair. They had felt physically a part of her, and now they were gone. Just... gone. It was as if they had been torn out from her, and she was empty. She was emptier than she had ever felt before.

What was worse—the memories.

She remembered now. She remembered her confinement on that damned ship. She remembered the Fallen and what he had done. She remembered his infecting her. She remembered nearly losing herself. She remembered killing all those innocent hatchlings just so she could escape. She had taken countless sparks without remorse. She had done so without thought. She hadn’t cared she’d torn away their sparks—taken their chances at life. She no longer felt their pain and their agony, but the sensation lingered as if on the verge of coming back. It teased her, threatening to drown her again, and that made it all the worse.

Her eyes continued to stare down at her hands as they had been even long after the battle was over. The sun was setting now, but she still stared. They were covered with sand, which had mixed with the blood. She didn’t remember getting cut, but, regardless, the wound wasn’t healing. She also felt weak, and she knew why. She was reminded every time she dove within herself, searching for the thrum of energy that had resided within her for years now, but found nothing. There was absolutely nothing. There was no power. Her body would not glow. She felt no warmth. She was cold. So very cold. The Allspark was gone.

She was human again.

“Catherine!” a familiar voice shouted, urgency and concern thick in their voice. Her head moved slowly—sluggishly, even. It felt so heavy as she did so, and she was surprised she didn’t fall down because of how much effort it took. She found the twin, glowing orbs of blue easily enough, and they belonged to the bundle of silver metal that was crouched down beside her. She found she could not read them, though. They were just orbs before her; light against the dark sky brought on by the setting sun behind them. They stared back, though, looking at her for something, she supposed. She opened her mouth to speak although her throat was dry and ached, but the memories came on harshly. Her mouth closed and, shame following, she looked away, hands falling into her lap.

“Catherine,” Sideswipe called again, reaching out, but she did not look. He paused, too, as shouts came from the top of a dune not far away. Both human and Cybertronian looked up along with many others to spot Hound half-carrying, half-helping Jazz walk. The second-in-command’s hip was completely torn and cuts and dents riddled his body. Energon dripped to the sand, but many of his comrades knew he had suffered worse than that before. There was no need for him to look so weak and about to offline. Regardless, Prime reached the scout first and took Jazz into his arms. He quickly rushed to Ratchet, whom began to scan his growing-increasingly-limp form.