TFA Fic - Last Rites, Epilogue

((Please read the artist's notes before reading this fic! If you don't, I'm not to blame for anything that happens!))

Epilogue: Dark and Winding Road

The room seemed stuffy since he had left it.  With all the thoughts going through Prowl's processor right now anyway, it was a wonder he could even truly focus on that much.  He stared at the tree, which had grown a bit unruly in the months he'd been away.  He would have to tend to it.  Perhaps he could find some tranquility in the action where it felt all had been lost in his life.

He could hear Jazz approaching from behind him, and felt the touch on his shoulder fins almost before the other cyberninja's fingers even landed.  “You've been spendin' a lot of time alone, Prowler,” he was commenting softly.  “You really should try to get back to talkin' with your team.  They miss you.  Much as it may not seem that way.”

“I don't even know where I would start,” Prowl sighed.  “None of this would've happened if not for--...”

“Lockdown,” Jazz interrupted, expression stern.  “I can't make you believe what I'm saying, mech, but I can try.  He used you.  Forced you to do what he wanted.  This – none of this – is your fault.”  He sighed, running a hand up and down one of the long black and gold fins.  “I know that's hard for you to believe or accept.  I know how difficult all of this is.  But you have to believe me.”

Prowl gave a sad smile... the same one he had given the day he had given his lifeforce to the Allspark to save the city.  “It isn't that I don't believe you, Jazz.  It's that sometimes, though the reality is much more kind... it's the fantasy we can't tear ourselves away from.”

Sighing, Jazz slipped around in front of his mate, resting their foreheads together for a long, trying moment.  “This is as hard for you as it is for any of us, Prowler.  Just don't let it consume you.  None of us would survive losin' you a second time.”

The smaller cyberninja gave a quiet sigh in response to that, his hands slipping up to frame Jazz's face for one long, needed moment.  “I'm not going anywhere this time, Jazz.  You've no need to worry about that.  Not even in the slightest.”

********************

Adjusting to the new height was only one of the many things Sari was fighting to overcome since her ordeal.  Bumblebee had been helpful, of course, but there was only so much he could do.  Her father had been uneasy about the whole thing, and though he was trying, she could tell the stress was hard on him.  There wasn't any real way for her to console him, either.  The general consensus at this point was that her human body, the one currently locked in suspended animation within the spark chamber of her new frame, was past any hope of ever being repaired fully.  The body she now inhabited was a permanent fixture.  Sure, she had always wondered what it was like to look like this, but now...

Curled up as she was on the couch in the living area, she normally would have noticed when Bumblebee slunk in, sitting down beside her in silence.  It took a while before he finally acted, reaching out to nervously place his arm around her shoulders.  “You gonna be okay, Sari?” he questioned softly.  “I asked before... but your answer was kinda off.”

“Tough question to answer.”  The girl did not look at him.  “I don't know what to do, Bumblebee.  A year ago, I was a normal little girl with the same problems normal little girls have.  And now?  Now anything I ever had that even vaguely resembled a normal life is gone and look at me!  I'm a giant robot!”  There was a terse pause before she shifted her glance over to him.  “I mean... no offense and all.  You guys are great and the best things that've ever happened to me, but...”

Bumblebee's browridge furrowed.  “But you're not sure if this is what you wanted.”

Sighing, Sari tucked her knees up further against her chestplate.  “How can anyone be sure about something like this?  It's not like I had a choice.  I don't hate Ratchet for it.  I can't.  I mean, I'd be dead now if he hadn't done this.  But what am I supposed to say?  How am I supposed to react?”

Silence fell after that, with both parties sitting and contemplating the situation, though Bumblebee honestly wished he had something he could say that was more comforting than a simple “it'll be okay.”  Finally, he sighed and looked at her solidly.  “Hey.  No one's saying you've gotta be comfortable with this, but no matter how long it takes, you know I'll... we'll... always be here to help you through it.  You're part of our family.  And this is what family does for each other, right?”

A small smile finally graced the girl's features, and Bumblebee grinned in response as she looked up and over at him.  “You really need to stop being so hard to frown around.”  She hadn't stopped smiling, though, and Bumblebee considered that a step in the right direction.  “Don't know what it is.  But for some reason, no matter how down I get... you're always there to pull me out of it.”

The silence that followed this time was more comfortable as Sari leaned to rest against Bumblebee's shoulder, her optics dimming out.  Everything was such a whirlwind of strange new situations and uncomfortable new things, but in the end, she was alive.  She would learn to get through this, both with her friends and with her family.

And she hoped everything would be okay.

********************

After the initial bustle and hurry of the repairs had passed, the medbay had fallen relatively still and silent.  Ratchet was sitting off to one side, looking at the mechs and femmes on makeshift berths, though his optics lingered longer than anyone else's might've on the frames of the two young mechs who had stayed so close to Peacekeeper the whole time.

Finally leaving Red Alert to doze quietly nestled against Inferno, the old femme moved over to plunk herself down next to Ratchet with a quiet sigh.  “I'm sure they would've been excited when I mentioned who we were coming to find, if Sunstreaker hadn't been so severely injured,” she was saying.  “They missed you.”

“I can't for the life of me figure out why,” Ratchet sighed in response.  “I abandoned them.  I abandoned Wheeljack, and for what?  Even when I saw him there, working on the Omega project... I knew he hadn't chosen that path for himself.  He couldn't have told me about it even if he'd wanted to.”  He paused.  “How is he, anyway?  I see he's not here, but the boys are.”

Peacekeeper shrugged absently, rolling a stiff shoulder.  “After you left, he started burying himself further and further into his work.  Perceptor did his best to keep him busy.  But he just couldn't focus on the boys as much as he felt he ought to, and I was getting ready to leave Iacon anyway.  So he asked me to look after them.”

“They needed their creators to be there for them.”  Ratchet's tone was quiet and distant, but his words held weight.  He and Wheeljack were not the actual creators of the twin Autobots dozing peacefully on the table nearby, but they had raised them as their own after their single spark and protoform had split into two during a time when spark-split twins were considered a terrible omen.  Perhaps that was why Wheeljack had felt such a connection working on Jetstorm and Jetfire.  “And we weren't.  We let them down.”

Sighing, the medic femme leaned back in the seat she'd taken.  “You know, I don't think they've ever once thought that.  You and Wheeljack are the world to them.  It's always been obvious.”  A smile crossed her face.  “You did good, you know... saving that organic kid's life.  You seem pretty close to her.”

Ratchet just shrugged right back at her.  “I guess I superimposed all my guilt about leaving my boys behind onto her... and took care of her accordingly.  Tried not to.  But I guess I just got a soft spot for kids.”  The old mech pushed to his feet at that, walking over to where Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had somehow managed to curl themselves into one lump of red and yellow armor, helms touching, optics offline.  One hand on each helm, he smiled a little.  “But it's good to have them home again.  I'd been worrying.  It's good to see them both in good condition.”

“And this time,” Peacekeeper stated calmly, “I doubt they'll be willing to go anywhere without you.  Now all you need is Wheeljack to complete the set.”

Chuckling, Ratchet lifted his head to look at her, unaware that the boys had powered on their optics to watch him quietly.  “If he wants to find me, you know I wouldn't turn him down.  I've missed him fiercely.  Wherever he is, I hope he's doing well.  Maybe someday... he'll find it in himself to forgive me.”

********************

Sitting by himself was a practice Optimus had avoided for some time.  He did not like to hear the sound of his own thoughts, or focus on the things that were bothering him and him alone.  He didn't want to sit and consider for too long the ramifications of his actions... especially not those of earlier that week.  Sentinel would come down hard after this, but in his mind, it was worth it.

Wasn't it?

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, trying to focus on anything but the ramifications of his actions and how they would affect his team.  Which had grown, hadn't it?  It wasn't just a handful of mechs thrown together by circumstance, but instead, they now had some actual trained warriors joining them.  He didn't know any of the Wreckers well, but they were all willing to lend a servo wherever it was needed... especially in turning the old factory into an actual base of operations.

But how long could this peace last?  He had come to discover, since his youth, that nothing was ever easy.  He was younger brother to one of the most powerful mechs on Cybertron... a fact so few knew.  Never once had he played favorites, and it was that same relation that had stripped him of his honors when he had stood by and allowed Sentinel to lie through his dental plating about the truth behind Elita-1's loss.  Perhaps it was because he couldn't face the one mech who had always believed in him with the fact that he had failed.

And now, after all this?  How could he even consider facing Ultra Magnus again?

His expression tightened.  He could not let himself get caught up in this.  If what Springer had told them was any indication, Chaar was lost and now they had to focus on the bigger problem: a planet full of Decepticon war criminals ready and willing to restart the Great Wars.  Cybertron was in no state to handle this again... and Earth did not deserve to take the brunt of Megatron's ire.  Something had to be done.  It was just figuring out what, exactly, that was the problem.

Standing, the young commander made his way back inside the base, passing Springer as he went.  “Hey, Optimus” the big green mech greeted.  He had rather taken to the young Prime, if only because he seemed considerably more personable and outgoing than Sentinel ever had.  “You look like you've got a lot on your processor.”

“Understatement of the century,” Optimus returned, expression as rueful as his tone.  “Your team settling in okay?”

Springer shrugged.  “Decent enough, given the circumstances.  Quickswitch is having difficulty getting used to having quarters that size, but he'll manage.  That chrysaline form he has can recharge curled into a ball.”  A smile crossed his face, giving him a look that was much more friendly than most mechs would have given him credit for.  “I really want to thank you for letting us stay.  We've been drifters for so long... it's nice to have a place to call home.”

The thought of a home for any of the mechs present did finally make Optimus smile, and he glanced at the Wrecker commander.  “Well, you're more than welcome here.”

“Glad for that.”  After a moment of silence that followed, Springer sighed.  “Megatron's not gonna stop now that he has control of Chaar.  He has a bigger army under him... and he's gonna come gunning for you.  At least, that's what it sounded like to me.  So what do we do now?”

Optimus's optics narrowed sharply.  “We prepare.”

********************

In a science lab stationed in the heart of Metroplex, somewhere near the outskirts of Iacon, a lone mech was working quietly on the examination of the husked out shell of a body before him.  Starscream had once been among the most feared warriors in the galaxy... and now, here he lay, broken and battered, with nothing left of him but his empty husk.  “Alas, Starscream,” Perceptor's electronic voice buzzed out.  “It would seem your days truly were numbered.”

He turned his back, distracted by some readings on the levels of Allspark energy from the body, and in doing so, he missed the faint movement from Starscream's frame.  His fingers twitched and his wings shifted.

Blood red optics powered on, but only briefly.

It was only the beginning.

End