Just Burned and Healed Things

The Fallen (Pt. 3)

"Time goes by and I can't control my mind,Don't know what else to try, but you tell me every time,

Just keep breathin' and breathin' and breathin' and breathin',"  

"You remind me of a time,
When things weren't so complicated,
All I need is to see your face,"

>><<

"Kyra, no!" Ratchet stumbled into the camp, feeling Decepticons reach out and seize him with clawed servos. He screamed her name again, watching her blood and energon pool onto the crisp yellow sand below her as he fought against the hands that restrained him.

"Ratchet!" Arcee and Drift followed him, leaving Soundwave behind to monitor. The femme deployed her side blades and yelled a battle cry, managing to cut off the wrist of one of the Decepticons gripping her friend and team member. Drift was right beside her, beginning to slice and fight with his twin swords. Energon spilled on the ground around them, but they were outnumbered and nearly overpowered.

The pair of protectors were viciously gripped by an unseen force and slammed together, grunting loudly as they crumpled into the sand. Arcee groaned, blinking away the dizziness from her optics. She could barely make out Ratchet, still standing and seemingly unharmed, gripped by several servos.

Ratchet locked gazes with the Fallen, gnashing his denta as gentle blue settled on deadly red, glaring with the intensity of a thousand suns. Despite the gaze he was far from threatening to the Decepticon, yet his determination was intriguing. He was desperate to reach her, the dying creature which rested at the Fallen's pedes.

"Allow him to pass," the Fallen's voice cut through the cacophony, the Cybertronians going still before they let go of the writhing Autobot. He paused, watching the ancient Cybertronian with distrustful optics before that was placed out of his processor, and he ran to his progeny. Starscream shrank back when Megatronus thrust him a withering glare, the Seeker now aware he had done something wrong.

The Decepticons gazed at their leader in confusion, unable to understand his logic. As the embodiment of entropy it would make sense that the Fallen was disordered, perhaps even deranged. He made plans but rarely were they clear, however he was trusted because he would, regardless, reach his end goal. Perhaps this was simply a sidetrack for his own entertainment.

Kyra was still alive when Ratchet gently flipped her over, barely breathing and tears running down her face. Her mixed lifeblood stained his careful, practiced digits, yet all he cared about was trying to fix her.

"S-sire . . ." She whimpered, her eyes fluttering closed when he gently placed a digit against her face. Her hand pressed against the warm metal, shivering and coughing up a sob.

"It's alright," he tried to assure her. He could see she was scared,and it was an expression the medic was all too familiar with. She knew she was going to die, terrified of the feeling as it crept over her. "I'm going to get you back to base, and we will get you repaired."

"I'm sorry," it came out in a quick gasp, her last words tumbling from her mouth as fast as she could get them. She was not stupid, the repairs were impossible. He could fix her Cybertronian parts, but not her broken organic organs. "I'm s-sorry . . . I don't want to . . . want to leave you . . . like mom . . ."

He hushed her softly, looking around desperately for some kind of emergency medical bay. Anything that could save her life. "You won't. I will not allow that to happen," he promised her, moving to rise to his pedes.

The Fallen watched the exchange and felt something stir within him. It was a memory, one he could recall with far too much vividness. The death of the one he loved so dearly, one he would have never, in a thousand years, believed he could have laid a servo on. And yet it was his own arrogance and evil that had extinguished Solus Prime's vibrant spark.