These Paths We Tread (Autobot x OC)

LXXIV. Caterwaul

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Optimus transformed slowly amongst the blackened wreckage of bodies and metal, a torrent of sorrow and rage in his optics. He looked around, taking in the chaos, and gingerly touched the burnt remains of a helicopter. On one of the remaining catwalks he could vaguely hear the National Security Director’s accusations, but it was nothing compared to the deafening silence that had consumed the hangar. His spark ached within his chassis, and his clenched fists shook while his darkened his optics and his head fell.

“Prime,” a weary voice spoke from behind him and he turned to find Ratchet. Beyond the medic were the others, slowly emerging from one of their hallways. All were just as exhausted, though intact, and it both relieved and made his spark twist more. He also noticed the lack of more than a few, and looked to his old friend. Ratchet didn’t need to say anything; he only released a deep vent of air and, optics downcast, shook his head.

Optimus sighed sorrowfully, “May they rest peacefully within the Allspark.”

The others bowed their head much the same, some seething in their silence instead of mourning, but it was all they could do now. Perhaps later, they could properly honor their deaths, but in this dark hour there was no time for it. Even their small moment wasn’t to last, either, as all were distracted by the whine of jets and transforming gears.

Outside in the ruined courtyard, four Seekers landed, and immediately rushed over. Their optics were wide and frantic as they relayed their report: Decepticons sighting everywhere. They were able to handle some, but they’d heard strange things from the radio and hurried back. It was then they finally realized the state of the hangar around them and became silent. Their wings and shoulders drooped as they stared at the wreckage.

“What…. What happened…?” Skydive murmured with a shake to his voice as he took a single, small step forward.

“Sentinel betrayed us,” Hound spat, fists clenched and optics burning into the ground.

“What? But—but—,” Fireflight stammered, but was interrupted as Silverbolt moved closer, his optics scanning the area for something he could not find.

“…Where is Mother?” he asked, and, while his brothers began to look frantically as well, the other Autobots flinched. The larger, gray Seeker understood at once and despair appeared on his faceplate. He backed up, head shaking and wings falling. His brothers noticed and began to understand, too, but withheld their despair behind a silent mask.

“I’m going after her!” a third voice spoke up, and they looked back to the hall where Sideswipe finally emerged, his optics cold and hardened as he rushed off on his wheels towards the exit. Sprinting after him was Sunstreaker, whom quickly snatched his brother’s arm and swung him back. The golden-armored Twin then pushed the silver mech into the near wall, glaring right at him.

“And what? Get yourself killed! It’s suicide to go alone!” Sunstreaker snarled.

Sideswipe shoved him off roughly, “I won’t abandon her!  And I don’t care if you don’t like her of if any of you don’t either. I’ll go alone if I have to, but I am going to get her back!”

“You slagging idiot!” his twin growled as the silver mech flew past him once more. Sunstreaker quickly grasped his arm yet again, but didn’t simply push him into the wall. This time he planted his feet and threw his brother over his shoulders, slamming him into a pile of charred metal. Before Sideswipe could rise, the golden-armored mech was on him, pinning him down so that he couldn’t move. Optics hard, but determined, he spoke again, “I am not going to let you offline yourself! And you and I both know she wouldn’t want you to, either!”