When in the Presence of Royalty Smokescreen x Megatron's Daughter Reader

Holding on

     Smokescreen carried the unconscious femme through the trees, finding a road, empty but used, and being used to this day by how well the trees were being kept back from the pavement. With a grunt he readjusted (Y/D) in his arms, the blue tarp dripping with the energon slowly leaking from the large wound that adorned her chassis. Finding a broken down gas station, the rookie slid in behind it, kneeling down when he saw an old, beat up white truck drive by. Peering through the broken window, he smiled the smallest bit when he saw the unused torches that were forgotten near the window. Reaching in, he cringed as the broken glass scratched and scraped against his armor, the sharp clicks of the shards hitting the inside tile making him hope no one was around. Finally managing to grip one, he began to do his best to repair the femme just barely online.

         "Come on, let's show that son of glitch up one more time," he urged her to live, repairing the open wound that had already started to rust despite his efforts to keep it clean, though it didn't help that the placement was rather awkward, being where an unfortunate subspace had been... now open, and seemingly empty, just across her chassis, where Megatron had aimed.

     Once done, Smokescreen smiled at his work. It wasn't anything medical grade, but enough to keep her from bleeding out. He repaired a few other deep scrapes, ignoring his own wounds, though he didn't have many, at least, not as many as (Y/D) had. Once he found his work adequate, he picked the silver femme back up again, making sure the torn blue tarp stayed secure around her, dried energon chipping from the plastic, and newer energon finding its way onto his frame, though he was already covered in it from the femme. Deciding to continue forward, Smokescreen started for the only place he knew the others would go for: Jasper. He wanted to send a message, but that was suicide. The femme in his arms needed medical help, but that was impossible. He was low on energon, but not even a mine would be near for miles, if not entire states away.

         "Guess we're in a tight spot aren't we?" He asked the femme, only to earn the silence of her failing systems, and slight hum of the increasing wind, "I wish I did more..."

Smokescreen hated that he felt like he was a simple bystander.

     The shot rang out, and (Y/D) was seen going down, the Omega Lock keys dropping to the metal ground of Cybertron, picked up by the victorious leader of the Decepticons.

         "Autobots, Retreat!" Optimus called, and a space bridge was provided by Ratchet from Earth, Smokescreen being pulled and pushed through by the others, unknowing of the bleeding and pained femme following just behind. He watched as, one by one, the team was filtered through their separate groundbridges.

         "Wait, what about you?" He turned to Optimus, who had no room to speak as the rookie was pushed through the groundbridge by the femme he had watched fall by the servos of her own sire. He landed on his aft in the grass of a quiet forest.

     He listened. Nothing except the soft droning of a far off highway in the middle of the night. Scrambling up to his pedes, Smokescreen looked around.

         "Optimus?! (Y/D)?!" No answer, but why would he expect one? He debated on whether he should go, or wait where he was. (Y/D) would most likely find him, but staying in one spot would also lead the Decepticons right to him, "Scrap...both of you better live," he cursed, "Or at least one..."

Beginning his trek through the woods, the rookie made it to the edge of a clearing when a groundbridge materialized where his once was. He noted the purple and silver hues, as well as the femme that stumbled out, falling into the grass, unresponsive.

     Sighing, Smokescreen hefted (Y/D) back up, her weight enough to make him have to work, but he kept in mind that he was travelling up the side of a cliff. The two came to a cave, small, but big enough to protect the both of them from the oncoming storm, the clouds thundering up above them, and wind howling, a warning to the oncoming rain that had started to come down in small sprinkles. Smokescreen ducked, and set (Y/D) down on the rocky ground as he positioned himself to protect her from the hardening rain outside, brought in by the wind that grew in its seeming anger. Noting that her core temperature was dropping, the mech brought her closer to himself, hoping that what little heat he gave off was enough to keep her from ascending into the Allspark, though the cold of the storm did nothing to help.

         "Just a little longer," he looked to the closed optics of his Cybertronian charge, wishing he could see the emerald green light that they gave off with such luster, "A little longer..."

     The storm continued to rage just outside, the once dry rocks darkened by the pitter patter of relentless water that came from the darkness above, mimicking the mood of urgency perfectly, almost mockingly. Setting her upright, Smokescreen allowed the femme to lean against him, careful of her still healing wounds. An involuntary wince escaped her derma, proof of life, but the mech felt guilty that moving her caused pain. Freezing in place, Smokescreen waited a few seconds before moving her again, though being even more cautious than what he already was. When (Y/D) had been properly positioned to be more comfortable, the rookie sighed, leaning against the rock of the cave, and fell into recharge, though restless he was.

         By morning, the rain had stopped, allowing the pair to continue their journey, only one doing the work, but for a good reason. Smokescreen finally managed to carry the both of them to the top of the cliff, where he set the femme comfortably on the ground, away from it's edge, and he sat down in the slightly heavier dust from the still drying rain. Sighing, he looked to the unconscious femme, unresponsive, practically offlined, yet she still seems to persevere. Megatron's daughter indeed. The mech began to think. Where would the others be by now? Bumblebee, Arcee and Bulkhead have their charges, but they wouldn't slow them down to much. Ratchet would most likely be looking for Optimus... maybe, if the Prime made it out in time. The relics were lost to them, every one of them. Who knew if they would be able to gain them back. And if (Y/D) offlined before they could find help... Smokescreen didn't want to think of it, the prospect a scary one, a sad one. They haven't known each other long, yet... yet what?

         "Idiot," Smokescreen threw a rock across the cliff, watching as it slid then dropped out of sight.

     It became silent. No quips from (Y/D), no teasing jokes from Bumblebee, no chidings from Ratchet or Arcee. Just the hum of the afternoon sun, and... that should be it. Yet the droning of an engine can be heard not to far off, and getting closer. Up to his pedes in a flash, Smokescreen stood over the weakened and dieing femme, ready for a fight if one should arise, of which he had no doubt. The ship came in view. It wasn't the Nemesis, or a seeker.

It slowed, and began to hover.

The ship landed, and the belly seemed to fall as it opened up.

         "Optimus?" 

(I have more coming! Don't worry guys and gals! I also have a short story or two that'll go in Assorted Short Stories. A Jazzxreader and a Shattered Glass short story. May take awhile but I'll get it all up when I can! This was probably the longest cliffhanger I've left you all on though XD)