Unforeseen

Chapter 48

I do not own Transformers, only my OC's.

Chapter 48

Depression, Tranquility. Pain, Anxiety.

I wasn't sure what to feel.

A sea of black and military dress filled the muddy grounds of a dismal cemetery, where a fine mist worked its chill into my processors. It had been three days since the Decepticons had virtually leveled the Fairchild Air Force Base. Three days since Melry had fallen deathly ill.

Three days…

Will's tear laden eyes ripped at my spark from within the crowd. I sank on my wheels. Why had I agreed to come? I wasn't ready for this. Not yet.

"Hmmm…"

My pain rose tenfold, smashing into my spark with enough intensity to rival a cannon blast. It was all I could do to withhold a guilty cringe and focus on a calming pattern. Slowly, very slowly, the pain eased… and so did the fatigue.

I had awoken her.

"Slaggit," I mumbled as Melry's eyes fluttered open from the back seat. "Sorry."

She didn't speak and barely moved, only stared up the ceiling with a vacant expression. It was almost frightening. She was lost in a sea of nothingness, distant even to herself.

"Focus Melry." I circulated the gears of the seat against her back. In an instant personality flooded in and brought with it a wave of apprehension and gloom. "It's just me," I reassured.

I watched as her face contorted in confusion and crystalline eyes darted about the cabin. She was looking for something... a figure she would never again see. It was a secret. A dark one I never wished to share, at least not in full.

My secondary form was gone, destroyed in a grizzly explosion that had killed one and nearly claimed us both.

The splicing process had placed more strain on my spark than Ratchet had anticipated. At worst he thought I would have crackle out of existence. Instead my spark had demonstrated the same uncanny love for explosions my processors did. Had Ratchet been any slower or any less experienced... this funeral would have been much larger.

"Careful," I said as Mel reached for the water bottle at her side.

The explosion had left many unanswered questions and fears, none the least of which was what would become of Melry if I died in combat. Would her life end as horrifically as mine almost had? The very thought made me shutter.

Ratchet had taken it all pretty well. Any other medic would have given up after the incident, especially when human was fatally wounded because of it. But it had still taken its toll. He denied being haunted by memories but I saw it in the way he worked. It all rang too close to home.

"Hiiiigh-" Mel broke off into a cough.

My spark danced. I didn't have any idea what she had meant to say, but the thought of her trying to utter my name was… heartening, even with the serious tones hidden beneath the whisper.

Her vocal cords were damaged and there was no telling if they would ever heal. "Rest," I told her.

"A-ahr-" Her stubbornness was flaring. She had awoken only a few hours ago and, in his excitement, Will had made the mistake of mentioning the funerals.

"We're here." I still couldn't believe the brat had had the pistons to demand coming. And Ratchet left the decision in my lap. What the slag had I done to deserve the honor of pissing off a newly awakened Melry? I hadn't been left with much choice! A doctor should have been telling her to shut up and lay still, not me.