Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Bring on your bows and arrows
Bring on your plagues and pharaohs
'Cause if you get lost in the shadows
There's a fire inside you
And you know that I'll find you…”
-Torches by X Ambassadors

Part I: When the World Ends

If you managed to disarm Cade Yeager, remove all his weapons including the Talisman that still was slinking around his bicep, if there were no overprotective Autobots nearby, and if you could over power an angry short guy who had spent the better part of five years rough housing with things made of alien metal that were two to three times his size…

If you could accomplish all that, and press the barrel of a gun to his temple and keep him pinned, and demand of him ‘Are you glad Cybertron is leaving?’

…actually, he might still lie just to spite you. He was just that kind of guy. Shitty but pretty damn loyal to the end.

But in his heart, in the deepest darkest pits where he could dream and be selfish and put himself before others…there would be a faint whisper. And it would ‘No.’ And perhaps, ‘They were my family.’

And even: ‘And, dammit, besides Tess? They were all I had left.’

Because Cybertron was leaving. He was, technically, losing everything that had given him a purpose the last five years, except he really truly wasn’t. He just didn’t know it yet. And he’d be damned if he admitted he teared up when the creepy dead planet actually started recoiling from where it had landed none to gently into the Earth’s crust. But there it went. Slowly, giant metal spider limb by giant metal spider limb, it started moving. Like something was calling it back, or some response had been triggered by the dead planet, a failsafe emergency exit button. Everyone that was conscious and still waiting there turned almost as one to watch the planet begin its strange actions.

And then Cade saw it, and his previously grieving heart soared almost high as the planet itself was.

Because apparently a trip into space on Cybertron was not on the plans, because no sooner had the dead planet started to creak and moan above the humans than Dragonstorm came streaking down from the sky with a metallic shriek that hurt the eardrums. The Autobot ship peeled after the flapping behemoth, rocketing through the atmosphere as it swung a smooth circle, lower and lower. Dragonstorm kept going, soaring eastward with some private destination in mind.

Not the Autobots, though. They ship was circling for a place to land.

Cade grabbed Izzy and hauled her backwards, then darted in and grabbed Vivian too, because of the three of them, he apparently seemed to be the only one with common sense when hanging around Transformers. Well…in truth, maybe it was more well honed instinct. When your family had several thousand pounds and feet on you, a guy had to look sharp and be wary.

The ship landed about nine feet from their previous loitering, the fresh smell of torn up Earth and the tang of iron filled their nostrils even from the distance. The engines idled and then died. Lennox and his men had set up a quick camp, dealing with wounds and calling in choppers to take everyone involved in the battle for Earth and Cybertron home.

The choppers weren’t here yet. But the Autobots were, suddenly.

Somewhere, far in the distance, another section of Cybertron suddenly rose up and loosened the rotted and wrecked planet further. If the chunks kept recoiling at this rate, the plant would be back in the sky by morning, early afternoon at the latest.

It was night, and the world was starved of light except for the little camp, except for the lights blazing off the Bot’s ship.

And then it was ‘except for the headlights of the Autobots’ because even in root mode they could use them to guide their way, and they were doing so right now.

He almost couldn’t breathe. Cade was gone from the girls’ side in the time it took for the gang plank to stop lowering, ignoring Vivian’s hissed yelp of his name or that Izzy was following him but a few paces away, as if shy and hesitant.

“—all I’m saying is maybe we shoulda stuck around fer a bit, might’a been sumthin’ on Cybertron we coulda used—“

“There was nothing, Crosshairs.” Drift’s gentle tone cuts in, the only voice besides Prime’s that Cade knows Cross won’t interrupt. “Our scans weren’t inconclusive, they were negative. The planet is obsolete.”

“Least on this dirt ball, we got our Energon mines. And nearby planets with more.  Rather take a trip to Neptune than go sailing on Cybertron and rust away, running inta Solus’ knows what.” Hound grunted in irritated agreement. “Can get patched up too, my aft is killin’ me…”

“Yeah,” Cross hummed, “Need Cade ta tweak my finger where that little creepy fragger broke it…don’t think it set right, feh…”

“Anybody seen my—blasted—door—!?” a spliced sentence came through, followed by a series of buzzes that Cade was positive were curse words.

“Oh fer Solus’sake Bumblebee—“

“Suck it!” A radio spit back at the sniper, but before a fight could break out, a deep tenor demanded:

“Are you all in that dire need of repairs?” The owner of the voice more worriedly confused than irritable. It still made Cade halt at the edge of the grass, staring up at his team as they trotted tiredly down the dropped walkway. Just hearing that rumbling voice made him feel at ease, like when thunder growled over the hills that somewhat sheltered the junk yard.

“Look Boss, we been through the Pit an’back these last cycles. And if there’s one thing we learned, it’s that we ain’t a Prime like you—“ Hound started casually.

“And when you need repairs: you get to Cade.” and Drift finished succinctly.

 And then the autobots halted almost as one unit, staring down with alert if tired optics because, before them stood said human.

“Speak a’the devil!” Cross snorted but his grin was unmistakable. “Miss us, eh Yeager?”

“Hey guys.” Cade breathed, drinking in the sight of them all and wondering why his chest squeezed so badly when he did so. Even like this, busted and beaten up, they were magnificent. Living machines with souls and hearts and personalities. Familiar to him as his own clothes, his own two hands. His teammates, his family.

“…ya’stayin’?” He managed, backing up even as they all followed him further into the grass.

“Got no choice,” Cross growled, but his ire wasn’t aimed at Cade, as seen by the way he plucked at some loose emerald plating and tossed a bullet shell. “We’re ain’t happy bout it but…”

“But survival is at least attemptable on this planet, unlike our Cybertron. Quintessa ruined what little was left before it all died.” Drift sighed, echoing his partner’s opinion but willing to explain at least a little more. Touchy subject, and Cade couldn’t blame them.

But they were staying. If only for a little while longer. Cade needed to make the most of it.

“Oh?” said Cade. “I’m sorry.” And that he did mean. “…c’mon, we can talk about this while I work. They got a camp over the hill there, in the field—“

“I hadda’nough human interaction fer a whole stellercycle, frag that.” The sniperbot waved his hands in disgust toward the dark arches of tents and little lights and campfires.

“What am I, a lizard?”

“You don’t count,” Cross reminded conversationally with a grunt. “Yer a medic, Yeager, you know that.”

Cade snorted, but noticed even friendly Bee was drooping with each step, and he kept shaking his door wings out and wincing and rubbing at his torso, trying to stretch pain away from the area. He was unhappy too, and Cade wasn’t about to force his family to do anything.

“Bee? You got my bag buddy?” The little scout had left in such a hurry neither of them had realized until later.

“You better believe it mister,” drawled John Wayne, making his heart relax further, “Or yer dead where ya stand.”

“Awesome, Bee, gunna need it. Izzy?” She was still behind him, eyes locked on the tallest and most impressive Transformer who stood at the back, still lingering on the sidelines and looking distracted as ever. Cade made a mental note to check on Optimus as soon as he could.

“Izzy, hey—“ Cade jostled her shoulder, “You gunna stay with Viv or what?

“What?” she startled, then shook her head. “You! I wanna stay with you.” Her hand grabbed his sleeve as if he had pushed her away instead of merely asked a question. “I can help.”

“I know you can.” Because she looked just as uneasy as the rest of the team. He let her cling for a second before saying, “But I need more than what Bee’s got. Go bully Lennox for some supplies. Whatever you can swipe that we can use to patch these guys up. Grab a blanket for yourself too, it’s freezing out here.” 

For once, she didn’t snark back, nor did she remark that by his own logic he’d need a blanket too. She left, hurrying to Viv and pointing toward the cluster where army was still settled, trying to figure their own mess out. Cade rounded back on the team, squinting in the dim light since their own lights were aimed at him and made them somewhat distinguishable shadows, a giant forest of moving trees come to life, constantly looming over him.

“Whose first? Any bleeders? Old bleeds that dried, anyway?” God, it was easy to fall back into medic mode. Almost comforting, even.  And right now, he could work without fear of Cons or the TRF dropping down on them. Hell, even if they did, he had a feeling that sword between Optimus’ shoulders would make quick work of any fools who dared threaten them.

“Drift’s third wing’s got a nasty slice in it. Better seal it quick,” Crosshairs commented, despite his previous bitching about a broken digit.

“I call second,” Hound puffed and the small red fire end of his cigar flared to brief life. “Took a mess of shrapnel in my flank, Cade. Bee should prolly be after me…keeps rattling like he’s gunna fall off his axels…”

Cade glances at the smallest shape that was limping toward him. They both shared a look, but said nothing.

Most of Bee’s damage was done by Optimus—erh, Nemesis Prime—and right now didn’t seem like the time to point that out. After all, Cade was a medic. The business of healing, right?

“Awright. Pick a spot, Drift. Crosshairs? Lights. I’m gunna need a lift too, can’t reach Drift’s back from down here…” He got used to his levels and high rises back in the junkyard.

“Yeah, yeah, comin’ Cade…” The green mech drawled and hit his highs on, crouching on one knee as Drift settled down in front of him and curled forward, exposing a section of chopper blade wing that was cracked. The blue goo of his Energon light up nearly white when it reflected off Cross’ high beams, and Cade hissed in sympathy as he caught his bag from Bee and hurried to Cross’s good hand, which rose him up about four feet. He winced as his own injuries and bruises pulled, but it was nothing more serious than a wing injury, not to Cade.

“Christ, Drift! This better look worse than it is. Ugh, lookit this…” Cade rambled even as his hands moved. His jacket was shed, his gloves yanked on. He began to wipe at the Energon streaks, easing the Transformer’s blood away to reveal the true fracture marks. “I know wing lines bleed more than average but dude, c’mon man…”

“I still have feeling in it, Cade,” Drift hummed, but he did twitch under the inventor’s careful swipes. He rolled his shoulder a few times, but let Cade continue unhindered.

“That’s good, I guess…lemme know if I hurt you too much, in that case…”

And so Transformer triage came together, right there on the grassy field beside the Autobot’s ship. Cade and Izzy worked well into the night, midnight coming and going. More of Cybertron going too, but soon the noises began to become the back drop to Cade’s concentration. Izzy had fallen asleep sometime around two in the morning, curled up against Crosshair’s side and then at some point, been placed inside Drift’s seat, blanket and all, hinting to Cade that his team had taken care of her just fine in his absence. Good. The kid had been through enough. She needed a family just as bad as he did.

And really, in Cade’s opinion, there was no better company than Transformers.

He worked beyond his exhaustion, beyond the pain of his own injures. His muscles ached, his hands throbbed, and he kept leaning closer and closer to his work. Thankfully the few soddering jobs were done early. However, no amount of coffee would undo the strain of a battle and the stress of emotional loss, as Cade had been enduring by himself for a while. So by the time he saw a stripe of light in the east, there were two Bee’s to work on no matter how hard he squinted. Damn.

“Look like shit,” Bee drawled, and Cade blinked when he couldn’t place the audio clip.

Because it wasn’t an audio clip. It was Bee’s voice.

“…oh…yeah? You too, mustang. Jesus,” Cade’s gripes melted into a tired chuckle as he leaned over the scout who settled out on the grass before him, one hand braced behind to lean casually on. “What hurts the most, buddy?”

There was a pause, and then a grey digit tapped at his center. Cade paused, sitting back and letting his own frame sag a little closer. He bent an arm under his chest and braced against Bee’s warmth, breathing softly as he eyed the glum little scout.

“…yeah. I bet it is hurting. That was…that Nemesis Prime was something.” Goddamn fucking terrifying, if you asked Cade. But nobody had, and he felt bad rubbing salt in a wound.

“Optimus is scared, Cade.” Bee said.

“Sure. I get that. I’d be scared to.” Cade fought a yawn so hard his jaw cracked. He held his breath, and shook his head to jostle his brain back toward Awake.

“Wait...where is the big guy anyway?” Cade blinked and sat back, his body creaked but he forced himself to peer around.

There, around the other side of their ship was the fuzzy shape of the massive, regal as ever Western Star, sitting in the dark shadow of the ship as the moon sat over head.

“Hnn,” Cade sighed, studying the truck. Even sitting silently in alt mode, the big guy just screamed miserable. Cade wasn’t sure if he was that tired that he was seeing things, or if he just knew Transformers well enough to read their moods across their many forms. Likely a combination of both, knowing him.

“You got a few good licks on him too, yanno. Held yer own pretty good against him.” Cade sighed, wishing for more energy. His eyes burned, his limbs were lead. He carefully got to work on the wounds, digging out bullets Bee’s body hadn’t pushed out yet, searching for broken lines that might cause major damage later, especially if Bee did was Bee was apt to do, which was race around in alt mode and push his engine to the limit and beyond for fun. He tightened down what he saw was loose, grumbling at Bee’s strange ability to just…come apart at the seams that he was growing into.

“I better…” Cade broke for a yawn harder than the last, “—ugh! Nhh, better check on him after you. He was in space for five fucken’ years, he’s gotta be feeling that plus what we just went through against Quintessa and Megatron.”

“You better recharge too, Cade.” Bumblebee pitched in, lifting his arm and stretching to allow Cade better access to a chunk of dented metal that needed to be pried free.

“Mmm,” said Cade sleepily.

He had to lean across Bee’s chest plating and torso to reach a line he wanted to divert and patch. But leaning meant resting, and then resting meant sagging, and then suddenly, all at once, the days of no sleep and little food and fighting for his life caught up to him. Cade felt swept under a current, like he was back on the rising Knight’s ship, the ocean pounding in his ears, and his vision hurting from the salt water biting into his sensitive eyes.

He tried to ignore the comforting weight of the servo that settled on his spine. He really did. Bee’s fingers settled a tiny bit more, and for a brief instant Cade knew what the little shit was up to. Well it wasn’t gunna work.

Just a little longer…

But when his tool slipped from numb fingers, Cade’s only response was to loosen his shoulders, and close his eyes.

“Dumbass.” Bee muttered under his vents as he rose slowly, catching the side of Cade’s limp body and curling the man further into his front, adjusting him into a more comfortable position than the one he’d passed out in.

“Yeah, but he’s our dumbass,” Crosshairs snorted quietly from where he sat in alt mode, so close to Drift’s passenger not a piece of paper would fight between them. Drift was still, and silent, even his headlights were off—and it was likely he was as asleep as Izzy was within him.

“Bee.” muttered Hound suddenly, and when the scout turned his helm with a prick of his antenna, he followed Hound’s silent jerk toward the rear of their ship.

They watched the Western Star roll slowly, farther away, staying out of the path of the rising sun.

The few awake and aware Autobots that saw this said nothing, merely exchanged uneasy and unhappy glances.

Cade woke when his stomach growled at him. Even then, he tried rolling over, shoving his face stubbornly into the familiar and comforting leather upholstery of the ‘stang and shrinking himself down to avoid any and all awful light. Then his stomach gurgled again and it hurt, and he cracked open an eye. Even worse, over his shoulder a certain radio clicked to life, noticing his slight jerk to awareness and deciding to capitalize on it.

And be pester him to rise, and start the damn day.

“Sweetness,’ lamented Morrissey after the guitar intro, “Sweetness I was only joking…when I said I'd like to smash every tooth in your head…Sweetness, sweetness I was only joking—“

“….Bee?” He slurred. “Whassit’ with y’u? E’ry’ g’d’mn mornin’ the Smiths—“ He pushed himself to sit up. “Least now I can finally ask you why you little audiophile—“

The radio flicked off.

“Reminds me of an old friend.” Bumblebee answered contently, and then didn’t elaborate, because he was Bee and sometimes Bee was a little shit. “C’mon Cade, you gotta get up. Lennox says they’re moving out soon.”

“…good fer’ them.” Cade sighed, opened his mouth to give an order and then closed it. Right. New day, new pecking order. Meh, that was fine with him. Optimus was someone you didn’t mind following. He made you feel safe. “What’s uh…what’s our plan?”

“What?”Bee asked.

“Our moving out plan. Optimus’ prolly itching to get the hell out of here.” Cade wondered how he would let the Prime have his way but also settle for repairs. Last night’s talk flooded back to him. Optimus definitely needed some patch jobs, he was a Prime but the last day had been a goddamn all out war.

Cade had a brief recall of Optimus throwing himself physically through a load of falling debris, breaking it apart with his body and saving him and Vivi’s falling bodies when they first entered the Witch’s lair. It was then Bee spoke, and the scout didn’t sound happy.

“I don’t care where we end up, though I’d like to see Tess if the government isn’t gunna shoot me for it. Oh! And, uh, we better make a detour to the junkyard, grab whatever the Dinobot’s haven’t eaten, let the Cons we took in know Prime’s back. Hopefully Hound can haul my trailer —“ He became distinctly aware of Bee’s silence and blinked, stopping his groggy plans for the moment.

“Erh…well…Optimus hasn’t given us a game plan, Cade. He left last night, shortly after you fell asleep.”

That got Cade awake.

“Where’d he go?” But Bee didn’t have an answer. “Shit, we gotta find him, Bee! He doesn’t need to be out there by himself—he needs repairs, what the hell was he thinking?”

But as Cade scrambled out of Bee’s backseat, Vivian cut in front of him, looking no less tired than she had last night. He paused, hissing a bit as bruises and injuries bit back at him in protest, and he took a few breaths to keep them away. Ouch…okay, definitely needed some Advil or something. Holy fuck.

“Cade, we need to talk.”

“Not right now Viv, Optimus is—“

“No, right now,” and her tone was less rude and more uncertain and scared enough that it made Cade pause. “Please.”

“Fine, fine okay—Bee? Wait here, I’m gunna grab some coffee, and some more tools. I’ll be right back, then we go look for him.”

He started walking for the cluster of tents, which was only a couple of yards away. Vivian followed, but didn’t start talking until they were near the sad little table that held what looked to Cade like the world’s saddest coffee machine. Ah well, any port in a storm…

“What’s up?” He asked after a slug of molasses that slid out of the nozzle. It was luke warm, but did the job.

“It’s that…Transformer—the one with the weird—Hot Rod. ‘Ooht Ruhd.’ Or whatever his strange accent makes him say his name is—“

“The little racer we met? What about him?” Cade snorted, looking across the slope to see the black and orange mech was lingering closer to the human camp than his own team was. Unlike his grouchy and antisocial team, Hot Rod seemed at ease in the company of the humans, if nothing else he seemed perfectly content to acknowledge Izzy and cheerfully settle over her. Cade hid a smirk. Transformers and kids. He kind of loved how fascinated Transformers got with kids, and of course vice versa.

“He won’t leave me alone,” Vivian hissed, shoulders high and tense. “Even now, he’s staring at me, isn’t he? Watching me.”

Cade glanced over her shoulder, and waved. Hot Rod nodded back. Yeager tossed her his best shitty grin and shrugged.

“They’re staying for now, what’s so bad about that?” He demanded, wondering why he was here. Not metaphorically—that was easy. Physically, right now. Talking to this flustered and irritated woman. Still…Cade had to remember this was still her ‘first Transformer’ encounter. One helluva first date…

“You don’t want him?”

“This is not a question of—of course I don’t want a Transformer following me around but I mean, can’t he go with you, Cade? With his, his own kind or something?”

Cade hissed, “Yikes. Uh, insulting an entire culture of alien machines aside, no. I mean, I can ask him. He’d prolly come if not for you.” He eyed the young mech and chuckled when he leaned down to better hear Izzy, and then heard the two of them snicker and laugh together. That sight warmed him better than the shitty coffee grinds he was slurping.

“Me? Why me?”she demanded.

“Your father told him to look out for you. They take oaths like that seriously; they’re not like humans, Viv.” Cade shrugged and wiped his hands with a rag. “All we do is take and lie and cheat. I’m not saying these guys are perfect, but for them, honor is everything. If he had to, he’d die keeping you safe….believe me, I know.” He’d never forget that roar of his name from Optimus that day…

“Seems kinda rude to just ship him across the country just ‘cause you’re afraid of the poor guy—“

“I-I never said that,” the poor woman tried to snap, but Cade snorted and cut her off.

“You didn’t have to. I may not be much to you but I know these guys. And I know how people are around them. And you? You are freaked out still.” He sighed, then threw her a bone and an olive branch all in one. “Looik, I geddit.”

“…you do?”

“Sure. But give him a chance, because in this day and age? Friends are hard to come by. And a friend that drives himself and can keep you safe from any Cons or avoid a car wreck is just icing, right?”

Vivian lapsed into silence, but her gaze was heavy and sharp.

“Look, once you earn these guys’s trust, there is nothing they won’t do for you. I wasn’t kidding when I said what I said about Bee always having my back. Just…try, alright? S’not like your taking home Crosshairs, now he’d give you Hell—”

“Ah’heard that Cade, and same to you, slagger,” the sniper tossed down at him good naturedly as he strode by, but Cade only snickered at the friendly jab.

“Besides, I think he might be about Bee’s age.” The inventor remarked as he helped himself to second Styrofoam cup of joe.

“What does that even mean—and how can you just tell that from here? He looks like a robot.”

“Eh, body language, his posture, way he fights and way he engages with the other bots. He and Bee made a great team when we stormed that Witch’s lair. Usually Transformers stick to their own ages because it’s just easier out in the field. The old guys hate young bucks’ getting in the way, and the younglings have more energy to burn and adapt easier.” Cade rubbed at his stubble and hummed, studying the dark and orange mech thoughtfully. “Size isn’t a great indicator of age but sometimes it can be. Paint job is better, old ones tend to be monochrome, or one color only. Mostly just means he’s around our age bracket, like Bee is. Kind of. If that makes sense.”

“…It doesn’t.” She drawled, but she was staring at him with a new look in her clever, gorgeous eyes.

“Well. Transformers. Dunno what to tell ya. I’m just an inventor from Texas, right?” Cade winced and rubbed at his side, wincing when his ribs seemed to ache louder on him. The hell was that about? Probably just a pulled muscle.

Although her expression clearly said her opinions were changing, he politely ignored them and did his best not to gloat too much.

“…what about Cogman?” Vivian finally broached. “Do I have to keep him?”

“Can’t help ya with that one.” Cade grinned though. “Not my area of expertise. He’s what we call ‘a deviation model’ and technically belongs in a subgroup.”

“A what?”

“A Cybertronian life form that does not fall in the bigger, more common categories.” Drift had stepped closer and caught wind of their conversation. “Cassettes, minibots, droids, the like. Cade’s Talisman also qualifies.”

“Oh yeah, this guy too.” Cade pulled up his sleeve to tap the attached disk that pulsed once at his prod but remained stationary. “Uh, if you ask me, Cog’s been with human’s way longer than the average mech. Clearly off his nut beyond just that, so it’s prolly better if he does stick with you, sorry.”

“Cade,” Drift interrupted smoothly, “We need to go. Sensei has still not returned. I fear the worst.”

“Yeah, you usually do. Usually just means its gunna rain soon.” Cade sighed, then glanced at Vivi with a quirked brow. When she allowed him a tired nod, he strode toward the ‘stang rolling up the slope to him, the driver door falling open. Bee was listening to Duran Duran now, while he had waited for Cade.

“All the more reason to find Prime and leave, then.” Drift murmured down to him. ‘This wet and cold will only make us all miserable.”

“Yeah…” The pain in his side was blossoming back, more and more frequently. What was that about? How bad was that coffee? He winced, wishing he could hurry to Bee’s seat and hunker down and sleep for a little longer.

“…Cade?”

“H-huh?” A slow massage seemed to make it worse, and he exhaled slowly to relax himself. Leaving it alone helped. Fine by him. He had bigger wounds to check on.

“Nuthin’, Drift. Let’s roll.” Duty called. He collapsed into Bee’s seat with a hiss and let the door close itself.

The pain was probably just from yesterday’s scuffle. Nothing more, and nothing less. He’d let them give him a once over at the small aid station the army had tossed up, but he wasn’t nearly at ease with them enough to be carted off to a hospital, no way.

Besides, the aches and pains would go away. But the squeeze of his heart at the thought of whatever Optimus was going through, all alone out there? Yeah. Way worse for Cade.

Chapter Text

“He felt in his heart cruelty and cowardice, the things which made him brave and kind.” –T.H. White, The Once and Future King

Part II. These Things Take Time

The sky was battleship grey and the air was thick with rain. The sun, which had likely risen a few hours ago, was hidden wholly and utterly behind a cluster of clouds so heavy it was a wonder they didn’t fall from the sky, alarming certain chickens and causing more problems. But the didn’t, and the dull morning waned on, sleepy and unpleasantly cold.

With a great whining groan of ancient and dead metal, Cybertron lifted another chunk of itself and leaned back into space a little bit more. The few remnants of the government and some of TRF’s agents clustered together. Aftermaths of battles were good at making humans huddle together for warmth and comfort on their own kind. (Well, most humans, but Cade Yeager has always been the exception to the rule, hasn’t he?) With little complain, Hot Rod kept Izzy and Squeaks entertained and under his watchful optic, but also kept shooting furtive glances toward Vivian and Cogman. One of which was sat miserably in a tent as the former brought her a cup of tea and set it primly down on the tiny folding table.

“Milady.” Said Cogman, as if he’d been tending to her his entire life, or hers, whichever.

“Erh,” her brain kicked a neuron in gear, “Thank you, Cogman.”

The curt nod was her only reply. She sipped at the warming liquid and listened tiredly to the prickle-patter of rain begin to start up.

“Jolly old England,” she mumbled to herself, but in doing so caught Cogman’s attention. Still, it felt like the world was going to end yesterday. It had started to, hadn’t it? Being alive to see a little rain damper down seemed like a small miracle and a huge one, and she wasn’t quite sure why, but it did.

“Those brutish soldiers of the Prime’s shouldn’t be out in this.” Cogman remarked, seemingly off the cuff as he too studied the ran filtering across the encampment in lazy waves. No wind helped it, so it was a thin, drizzly downpour and manageable provided you were out of it and under some shelter. She hoped Cade was still in Bee, at any rate. The man was probably a horrible patient if he was a medic, which he seemed to be.

“A little rain bothers Transformers, does it?” She couldn’t help the little remark.

“Hardly.” The metal man sniffed. “But their tires will muck up the lawn and ruin the place. And frankly, if their leader doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be. Although…”

With little else to do but watch rain and worry about a looming future for herself, her new Transformer companion, and the poor little girl currently taking shelter in said companion’s alt mode, Vivian decided to direct her curiosity elsewhere.

“’Although’ what?” she prompted. Servants loved to gossip, and Vivian, frankly, loved gossiping with them. They’d certainly paid her more attention and love than her parents ever had.

Cogman inclined his head, the gears on his old body turning. Vivian remembered Cade’s words about color and age and made a mental note to ask about Cogman’s. Turns out, she didn’t have to.

“I’ve been around a long time, Miss. Served the Witwiccans for seven centuries. Been interesting work. But—if I may I speak candidly?”

“….I encourage it.” Now she really was interested. “Please, go on Cogman.” She urged.

“That…young man, the Yeager fellow. He’s several generations too late. And I don’t mind saying it unnerves me to think about.”

“Unnerves you? About Cade?” She bit back a laugh, not wanting insult the temperamental machine. “You certainly don’t hold back your emotions when it comes to your distaste of him—“

“He’s crude and unkempt and should be taught differently.” The Headmaster answered with a clipped tone. Still, he looked at her with a slight flash of growing affection. “Nothing at all like the knights of yore that joined our regal Guardians in partnership.”

“Can hardly blame him for his appearance, since he was apparently living on the lamb for five years and—I’m sorry the knights of—? King Arthur’s—?”

“The very same. After defeating the Saxons the Guardians decided to join the Knights of Camelot. They protected the innocent, held the vile responsible for their crimes. Oh, those were the days Miss, grand that they were! Man and machine in harmony! Those Knights found such closeness with our Iacon Knights.” Cogman’s voice turned lower in volume, and slowed as he drawled,

“But…stories end, don’t they? Last page comes. Books close. Nothing left but dust on shelves and history that turns to fairy tales, isn’t that right?”

Realizing he was turning her own words back onto her, she flushed and hid her look with another sip.

“…it’s all just a lot to take in, Cogman. Aliens and magic and science…giant…metal machines with souls.” And then, remembering Cade’s gentle lecture to her, she spared a short glance toward the sleek black and orange car sitting contently in the soft shower of rain. Hot Rod’s paint job gleamed in spots like fire, a bolt of color among the washed out and grey world surrounding them. Inside, she could see Izzy curled up dozing, completely at peace and ease with the racer sheltering her. Against her mind, her heart warmed fiercely at the picture.

“…Cogman, what did you mean before?” She asked, her eyes still on Hot Rod and the young girl. “About Cade being ‘too late?’”

“You’ve remarked on it yourself, milady. How close he is with my kind versus his own species. Very odd, that.” Cogman admitted.

“…he reminds you of Camelot’s Knights with the Iacon ones.” The realization came like a thunderbolt and yet seemed so obvious the more she chewed it over in her mind. Oh. Oh.

“Clever girl.” And somehow, it didn’t seem condescending when he congratulated her with it. “It’s not so much that, it the one he apparently choose to bond with that chills this frame to its core.”

“…Bumblebee?” Didn’t make much sense. Like Cade said, he was so nice. And small. He’d rushed to help the scout attack that horrible corrupted Optimus, hadn’t he? Cade even slept in the mustang’s back seat last night. But something wasn’t adding up.

What would alarm Cogman so much over Cade Yeager and his bond to one of the Autobots?

Cogman hummed, but said nothing further. His look at her was keen and sharp, and he seemed to enjoy letting her puzzle this mystery about Cade and ‘his knight’ out for herself. She decided she liked that a great deal.

“When they return, because they will if Yeager asks, I urge you to watch him more closely. You’ll understand better why he suggested you allow Hot Rod to accompany you….he understands, you see.

Honor…until the end.”

The pain in his side had graduated with flying colors from twinge to pulsing surges of fire every time he sucked in air. It got so bad he considered briefly how important breathing really was, and then of course mentally slapped himself and had to suck in air. The process of the injury had sped along once he got out of Bee, who couldn’t fit through the cluster of trees in alt mode and so Cade had to get out and walk. Which he didn’t have a problem with two hours ago, only now things were starting to get difficult. Like keeping two eyes in the same socket and his breaths steady. Personally, Cade thought he was hiding it rather well, but he wasn’t sure if that was because he was a great actor or Bumblebee and the others were that distracted by Optimus’ little vanishing act.

Probably a mixture of both.

They continued on through the forest on foot, wincing when the distant sounds of a planet recoiling echoed across the atmosphere around them.

And then the rain began.

Cade shivered under it, grumbling when he remembered he’d left his jacket either at the camp or in Hound, who had taken another direction than them with Cross leading the way. At least it wasn’t a very icy rain, but it was colder than this Texan boy would have wished for frankly.

The low pulse overhead was a comforting noise, especially when it dropped lower and increased in a controlled, swooping circle. Cade fumbled for the walkie-talkie by his side (that brought another show of fireworks across his aching ribs) and depressed the channel button he’d painted in Drift’s new red.

“Seen’im?”

“Negative,” The bot answered via the line immediately. “But the foliage and weather is making it hard to see much of anything.”

“Well Bee and me are walking down a slope, so there’s some valleys in the way too…and you can’t exactly fight the tree line.” Cade made a frustrated noise and leaned on a tree thicker than his waist by at least three times. He thought hard, shoving aside pain and unease for himself and focused on their—his—commander. Optimus needed him more right now. He was fine, he could wait. Yeah.

“Okay. You go check on Hound and Crosshairs, Drift. Me and Bee’ll turn back in an hour if we don’t find anything to follow.” The triple’s soft thudding chopper beats swung westward and soon faded. Cade released the knob and stowed the walkie with a disgruntled wince. Goddamn, even doing nothing hurt now. What the hell was going on with him?

It was hard to believe someone as big as Optimus could move undetected through the woods, but here they were, and though it was a chilling concept, it was mostly just kind of awesome to Cade. Everything about Optimus was awesome.

Somewhere to Cade’s left, Bumblebee slunk around a log with equal ease, keeping himself along tree roots and rocks so the damp earth didn’t trip him up nor did he sink. Sometimes Cade forgot, and then other times he’d remember Optimus essentially raised Bumblebee along with the rest of his original team. Still, the clear teachings and lessons from the Prime were visible in nearly all of Bee’s movements, if one knew where to look.

“Why’d he run off, Bee?” Cade asked, blaming his worry on the tightness of his tone and trying to ignore the sweeping pulse of pain along his side. He felt the Talisman creeping along his right shoulder, but it wasn’t causing any discomfort, so it wasn’t to blame.

“Dunno.” Bumblebee sighed in his original voice, sounding just as worried as Cade felt. “We saw him head off last night, and I thought I could track him but…”

“Hard to follow the guy who taught you everything he knows, huh?”

Those antennas drooped and Bee buzzed with a sour, somewhat deflated nod. Cade chuckled despite the situation.

“We’ll find him buddy.” He soothed quickly, using the same warm voice Tessa and now Izzy got. “C’mon. I know it’s easier for me in here than you but the rain’s gunna slow us both down….but hopefully it’ll slow him down too.”

Off they went.

Splitting up was one of his more stupid ideas, Cade would admit that if he had to. Maybe not out loud though. He was too stubborn for that. 

Still, he had the walkie, in all its modified glory, and he thought maybe somewhere to his left he heard rock music lilting through the soggy, cold woods as he ventured.

Bee was at least in shouting distance, Cade was pretty sure.

Only…he was hearing a lot of things, mostly the throbbing pulse of his rib cage, and the rushing of angry, aggrieved blood in his ears as his heart pumped through the pain. He was probably imagining the music at this point. Which was scary. He forced a breath, which wasn’t as easy as it should have been. It felt like he was breathing with rocks in his belly, and god, it fucken hurt.

Cade peeled up his shirt, hissing at the sight of the livid purple and red bruise that swallowed up his entire side. Fuck. That hadn’t been there before…

He leant against a thick tree, and ignored the damp of the bark and the mossy softness and lulled his head back, trying to find comfort in whatever position he could. Mm. There was none left, his torso hurt too much. Awesome. He wasn’t getting up any time soon either. Double awesome.

He was vaguely aware of the Talisman, giving a long drag of its strange, fluid metal frame down his arm in a lazy spiral. Sleepily, Cade tried to follow it with his eyes, but his vision wasn’t really in great shape, just like the rest of him wasn’t neither. Yeager hummed, groped blindly where it was trying to go, and shaky fingers found the walkie.

Oh. Good thinking.

But even this state, his thumb hovered in hesitation over the six buttoned chunk of plastic. Single wave systems, each locked down to the private line of the corresponding autobot he’d want to talk to. He was pretty sure it was unhackable, at least by any mech except Soundwave, who was kind of known for that sort of thing, so Cade was pretty proud of the device’s modifications.

Green—Crosshairs. Red—Drift. Side by side, like always.

Brown—Hound. Yellow, Bee of course. His was the most faded, because he and Bee were the team leaders, and the little scout rarely let him down.

Black was home base, the only one that was a moveable, smaller device that was another walkie-talkie. He’d given it to Izzy, he was pretty sure.

The last button…

He pressed a cold thumb over the royal blue and gulped shakily.

‘I’m a goddamn idiot. I shoulda tried this earlier.’ He blamed the pain for his folly, but it didn’t make him feel better.

What if he didn’t pick up? The thought bit him deep, and for a second the pain in his side wasn’t the worst pain Cade felt.

‘Try, young heir.’ Whispered a little voice in his head, ageless and soft and most certainly not Cade’s mental voice.

Where had…?

Hallucinations were getting weirder, possibly worse. Triple awesome. The mechanic’s face stretched from its tight pain to something nearing fear and unease, and he pressed the button, lifting his hand and leaning forward to the speaker.

“Optimus…? It’s..uh…Cade…Cade Yeager.” He halted with a low moan, because talking and exhaling made white spots dance across his vision. He’s sure he sounded like he was dying, or something close to it. Cade tried to steady his voice, for all the good it did him. All it probably accomplished was making him speak in stilted, curt words to keep from throwing up or passing out.

“Uh—h-hey, big rig. Dunno if. If you can hear this…Bee gave me yer frequency when…you were in space. So…but yer—yer back now! F-fuck, ow…And I’m…uh..M’not doing so hot. Dunno, my side hurts like a motherfucker…maybe…yesterday medic’s missed…sumthin? This…Look…”

Cade licked his dry lips. Damn, this was hard to admit. But if anyone would understand…if you could be exposed to anyone in the universe, it’s Optimus-fucking-Prime. The big guy could make you feel so safe and protected.

“This is officially an SOS…” Save our shitty-medic? Yeah, sounded about right.

He kept his thumb depressing the button, and flicked a switch on the back, then let his hand drop with the device in his lap, energy spent and gone.

A wide ranged honing device. Any transformer could pick up on it, but plenty of Decepticons knew by now it was an Autobot’s, a slightly, carefully altered clone of Bee’s broadcast actually. Even if someone was skulking around, Cade felt safe enough to send it out. And, even if Optimus didn’t care or hadn’t heard it, the others knew the radio’s honing signal was rarely turned on except in emergencies.

So, hopefully, Bee or onna’em would be here sooner rather than later when they caught wind of it.

His eyes drooped closed against his will, feeling dizzy, and for a long while Cade laid there and listened to the miserable trickle of rain and the whisper of the forest around him.

England was kinda pretty, sure…but by now it’s getting old. He helped save the world twice now, with his family. Wasn’t that enough? Cade wanted to go home. First the junkyard, a quick road trip to Tessa, then home-home. Texas. See what state the farmhouse was in. Check up on the mechs they’d saved, the one who hadn’t joined the fight because they were too old or beat up to do so. Make sure Grim hadn’t eaten another fucken cop car, although Cade knew he had.

He wanted to…what was it he wanted to do? Damn…hard to think. Chest felt all heavy.

It had suddenly gotten hard for him to hear anything now, because everything in his middle hurt so badly and he was still so exhausted and just wanted to sleep, but somewhere to his right something shoved a towering evergreen aside with a softly startled rattle of pines bristles. Cade wanted to turn to the noise but couldn’t. He would inna second though…just needed to rest…

The earth quivered meekly in a slow, two-beat gait as whatever the hell it was strode toward him.

And without much fanfare, large but thoughtful metal fingers scooped him up from his slumped position against the tree. Cade’s body went up, past Bee’s diminutive height and well beyond any of the others. He moaned, because even out of it, his mind registered the agony of movement to his ribs and he whimpered too, the hand holding him curling tighter in reflex protectiveness.

Sharp optics eyed the crumpled man and against Cade’s shaking frame, machinery thrummed. The Talisman skated upwards over his bicep, avoiding the sizzling blue gaze and tucked itself quietly under the man’s thin, damp shirt. It’s job was done, and it needed rest too now.

Unconsciously, the medic curled up against the gleaming plating, uncaring for the sharpness apparently. This earned him another glance; one of flat confusion and a soft gentleness of realization, but nothing more could be questioned. Not yet, anyway.

Later, though.

Captain William Lennox had no goddamn idea what the hell was going on with Prime’s 2.o Team. A part of him worried and fretted at their odd actions, first their return and their pointed, angry distance, promptly followed by a quick departure but across the unfamiliar and foreign land. Yeager had shown up back at camp, drank some coffee, chatted with the Witwicky woman and then left in Bee—come to think of it; he hadn’t seen the Western Star of Prime’s alt mode when they’d left around dawn. Which meant Prime had already vanished. To where? And why?

Another part of him, frankly, didn’t care. Couldn’t care, because he didn’t have time.

And a very small, small, treacherous part of him, missed Ironhide like a limb. The big jerk wouldn’t have left without telling him why, if he left at all. Hide hated lazing around, sure, but he was a loyal sunvabitch and after a bad fight he always lingered around Lennox longer than usual.

“The last of the carriers are arriving in an hour, sir.”

Lennox blinked. Right. Yes. Okay. Focus on work. ‘You grieve on your feet, solider.’ Ironhide’s best advice. Feel, but don’t ever let it stop you.

“Good. Get everyone who’s left ready. We don’t make return trips.” He felt like he was herding cats. Tired, exhausted humans shaken and healing, but cats nonetheless. The ones who hadn’t made it were being loaded up for a private flight back home. He’d have to inform family members. The injured ones who couldn’t travel were taken to the closest hospitals by now. The remaining, the battered and patched up, were resting and waiting. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a young looking scout model shake his frame out against the rain and chuckle when a little, dark skinned girl yipped below him and complained over the orange and black mech’s playful noises.

“Yessir.” And then the man paused, and Lennox sensed a question.

“If you’re worried about being ambushed, I wouldn’t.” Perhaps that was it. Lennox decided to assuage first and assume later. “With the Autobots around—with Optimus Prime around, namely—and with zero sign of Megatron, I’d say we’ve got some breathing room for a long while.”

“Erh, yessir.”  That wasn’t it, then.

“It’s alright, solider. What is it?”

“Some of the men were just—well, we all were trying to figure out how—if the autobots were—that is—when we get back to the states—” Soldiers. Gossipy as housewives. Somethings never changed. Will snorted.

“I have no idea what’s going to happen between us and the Autobots. One battle side by side doesn’t erase what the TRF did to them for five years. You think Yeager carries a grudge? We just better hope and pray he or Bumblebee don’t tattle to the big guy in charge.” He warned.

The man swallowed quietly, and Will knew instantly he and some others were going to consider an early retirement package.

It wasn’t far from Will’s thoughts either, truthfully.

He focused back on his shortening to-do list. And then looked up and over, settling his gaze on the roaring sound of engines.

“Optimus is back!” The little girl, Izzy maybe? Crowed, and ran toward the edge of the campsite. The orange mech trailed after her, turning over his shoulder to watch Mrs. Witwicky as she stepped up too.

Optimus was, indeed, back. And the rest of his team, and while they had left with concern rattling their frames, now they roared up the slope toward the encampment. The speed and size was enough to send prickles up a spine, and though Lennox’s instincts told him to turn and run, he fought them. Maybe Bee or Cade had told Prime after all, and maybe he’d turned around to come let out his rage on them all, or at least on whoever from TRF he could find.

Something seemed off, though. This wasn’t one of the normal battle formations the team would have taken. Bee was in the back for one thing, with Optimus was leading the procession. Drift was skating a wide circle above in the air, not hiding at all. And he seemed to be looking for enough room to land, and when he didn’t find it fast enough he folded from alt mode to root mode and simply dropped, chopper wings folded as he landed heavily far too close to the tents, which shuddered meekly. Bee’s horn was drowned out by the roar of Prime’s, making several people startle and some outright step back.

Something was wrong.

Bee was one thing, but a mech Optimus’ size didn’t hurry unless there was a reason to.

He looked frantically behind them at the forest’s line, but no battle-ready Megatron appeared, no gun fire cracked the air apart. And even if it was an attack, the autobots wouldn’t lead them back to a cluster of weary and tired humans, not even on their angriest days.

“Captain Lennox,” Drift’s lilting voice rang over the milling, confused crowd, and Will whipped around.

“Cade requires medical attention urgently. We hoped you still had a medical team here.” And Drift’s words made Will pale.

He’d just sent the last bus off, maybe twenty minutes ago.

“No,” and he hated saying it, because now they had a whole other problem on their hands.

‘They got one medic left. And if he dies on our watch…?’

Will eyed the steam billowing from Prime’s exhaust pipes that branched over his hood as he slowed to a warning halt. Every inch of the powerful machine rumbled with thinly stamped down anger.

“Cade got checked out by the EMTs!” Will felt the need to at least try to save his men’s asses, even as he sprinted across the clearing toward the semi. “He cleared!”

“I’m sure he fraggin’ did,” Crosshairs bit back as he skidded to a stop across the slick grass, his lights flashing angrily. “Cade woulda’ lied or not taken his injuries seriously too, just ta get back ta work on us!”

‘That’s why he was over with them last night. Duh,’ Will kicked himself mentally.

“He’s right there, Boss. Cade’s a good medic, and good medics make lousy patients.” Hound grunted, sounding less angry but certainly concerned.

Bumblebee whined, and rocked on his axles as he popped open his door, having stopped a few feet from Prime’s passenger side. Prime's door swung wide, and even from their height they could see Cade on his back, head tipped back and one arm dangling.

“Get him into Bumblebee.” Optimus’ voice snapped at Will. “Now!”

“Ohmygod, Cade—!!” That was the woman, her voice sharp and mirroring Will's own shock when they moved to Prime’s cab and saw the slumped and grey form of the bot’s medic, unresponsive and clammy as death.

Drift stooped down with them before Lennox had to ask, and with his help and arms full of Cade’s frame they did get the man somewhat gently loaded into the tense mustang. The ragged wheeze of the man’s breaths and his color didn’t help anyone’s anxiety.

“He dozz not look zoo gud,” Hot Rod warned in the weirdest approximation of a French accent that Will had ever heard. “Orderzz, commander?”

“Go with Bumblebee.” Prime replied with a snap, even as he unfolded right there on the grass. “Get him to the nearest hospital.”

“I’m coming too!” Izzy’s voice was small but just as fierce as Prime’s, and Lennox marveled at her courage. “Family sticks together!”

“Y-yes, yes I’m going as well.” Vivian’s softer tone was hesitant but seemed more so from shock and fear than anything else. She cast a wide eyed, shocked glance at Optimus as he rose to his full height.

Both hurried into Hot Rod’s front and the fiery tinted mech took off after Bee.

Despite’s Prime’s order telling only Hot Rod to follow his scout, the others stayed in alt mode—and in Drift’s case, he folded into his third form and rolled toward Crosshair’s flank. The three unlocked brakes and moved toward the scout’s trails, but lingered when they realized they weren’t being followed by their commander.

An awkward silence reigned.

“Ya…ya comin’, boss? Really think ya ought’to.” That was Hound, and the fact Hound had enough ball-bearings to broach something at Optimus Prime reminded Lennox enough of Ironhide he did a double take. Besides Ratchet and maybe Bee, Prime wasn’t exactly questioned among the autobots. Came with the title, let alone the authoritative, regal air Optimus carried, even now.

Prime wasn’t looking at him, at any of them.

“…no.” The word cut deep. “Go. The rest of you will suffice.”

Something was buried deep in those tight, low words, and Will stared upward in shock.

“Really?!” He blurted before he could stop himself.

Those optics swung down to glare at him, and he stood in the commander’s dominating scowl.

‘Might see you again sooner than I thought, ‘Hide.’

But Will had seen it. They all had. And he—like them—had never seen it before in the years he’d known Optimus. The big guy was a loner, a leader, and he never, ever took a human partner. He worked well with just about anyone, sure, it wasn’t that. And it wasn’t that he hadn’t had his fair share of humans to pick from in his time at NEST or even just from living on Earth for a handful of decades.

Until now. Until Cade Yeager.

“You just gunna leave your medic by himself for this, Prime?! Your human!?” Will shouted upwards, hating himself even as he knew it was right to do this. “Did five years in space knock your heart out of its chest!?”

Prime grumbled in warning, but within him, something that felt like Ironhide growled right back.

“That man gave your team everything these last years! It’s been five, in case you cared. While you were off in space, Cade became a medic! No, you know what? He didn’t just become a medic he became a commander—he led those idiots through just about everything. The government went after ‘em anyway, didja know that? Hunted all of them. Made me do it too.”

He had the behemoth’s full attention now.

“They tried capturing Cade to get your autobots. A lot. Thought he was the easiest target. Only he wasn’t. Know what happened anytime we signaled Yeager out? Bumblebee ran them down, Optimus. He didn’t even fucking hesitate! You just gunna give that up?”

Prime’s hand lifted up to his shoulder, fingers straying to the hilt of that gleaming broadsword the Prime wielded like it weighed nothing.

The threat of violence was new. It felt…forced, however. Prime was bluffing.

Will was pretty sure.

But things had changed. Why not Optimus with them? Everyone had a limit, even Gods.

And then beside Will, Hound’s engine idled. Drift joined him immediately, and though it took a second, a reluctant Crosshairs did too. Optimus eyed the remainder of his team sitting across from him, parked resolute and quiet around the captain. His own gesture met with a physical display of refusal and fierceness. Will was not alone.

‘Transformers.’ Lennox wanted to shake his head at the in-credulousness of it all, even as his heart swelled. At Prime’s team aligning himself with him in defense of Cade. ‘Yeager’s right. Their loyalty really is something else.’

“I saw the footage in Japan, Optimus.” Now or never. Lennox exhaled, steady and determined. “We recovered Attinger’s body…what was left of it.”

“He was going to kill Cade.” Prime rumbled out, deep tone rippling with something close to hate.

“But he didn’t. Because of you.” Will swallowed, realizing something. The final piece to a complex puzzle of Transformers and humans and loyalty and love.

Everything was deathly silent.

“You scared to lose him, is that it? Like Ratchet? And Ironhide? I lost them too, Optimus. You don’t see me turning my back on my men.” The man arched his spine. “Grieve on your feet. Cade needs you.”

The hand near his sword froze, and Prime actually leaned back. Ironhide’s advice flared between them all and silenced the commander into stunned shock.

“Solus…went a little far there, don’t ya think, human?” Crosshairs hissed, more in anxiety than distaste.

“He ain’t wrong.” Hound muttered in his immediate defense. “Good on you, kid.”

Lennox snorted. Kid? He was older than Cade.

Optimus didn’t say another word at him.

And somehow, Lennox knew that was actually a really good sign.

What the Prime did do, however, was step away and stalk into an opening, aiming himself as he collapsed roughly into alt mode. The Western Star sat facing the direction Bumblebee and Hot Rod had left.

“We are in your debt, Captain. Thank you.” Drift’s voice was a low purr, when they realized what was happening.

“Autobots—roll out!”

A weight escaped Will’s chest and he relaxed, even as the mechs around him instantly gunned their engines eagerly.

Yeah, things had changed. But not everything. Not the important stuff.

“Damn…you better make it, Yeager.” Lennox muttered as the bots’ got smaller on the horizon. “Think Optimus has lost enough to last anyone’s lifetime, let alone his.”

It was a sobering thought, but strangely it brought hope with it.

Because if Prime remained with Cade, he had a shot to keep his superiors happy and the autobots nearby.

High above, Cybertron’s ravaged remains sank deeper into space’s depth, cloud covering shifting as the planet began to fully remove itself from Earth’s atmosphere.

And something else too. The rain was stopping.

Chapter Text

“You see the patterns in the big sky?
Those constellations look like you and I,
That tiny planet and that bigger guy…” –Sting

Part III. What Are You Doing Tomorrow?

Cade had always been very fond of machines.

All sorts too, he didn’t have it in him to be too picky when it came to what it was or how it moved. The build, the style, the framework, the little artificial coding that dictated movements and responses. The year, the company, the model. Machines of all types, long as they worked. Hell, even the ones that didn’t were just fine, because then he had a perfectly reasonable excuse to take them apart, fix them, and put them back together.

Hospital machines though…now, those, he could live without. He knew that wasn’t a fair judgment, and he knew it wasn’t a nice thing to say, and so it wasn’t something he said often or at all. But it was how he felt. And he couldn’t change that.

A machine had found Emily’s cancer. Positive.

A machine had chosen their status for financial help. Denied.

A machine had helped the surgeon during surgery. Terminal.

And, of course, a machine had told him when her heart halted, and her brain activity slowed, and she stopped breathing on her own. The End.

He loved machines.

But sometimes, boy, it was hard to accept what they were used for.

One twilight, cool in the darkening evening as they wandered westward, a little ragtag band of autobots and one human out running the seasons…that was that Cade dreamed of for a while.

It was a nice memory to recall, and it felt warm and familiar, like a heavy blanket. Cade’s riddled, confused and aching mind settled happily into the memory, like when one sinks into a feather bed.

It was pitch black, a new moon because that was the best time to travel, nothing but Bee’s head lights illuminating the trail they blazed.

“I got a bad complication…I keep it to ma’self….I got some strange information…I can’t think of nothin’ else…” Bumblebee’s speakers pitched in volume, a sure sign the little scout recognized and enjoy the song he’d picked up along the airwaves. Cade could feel the soft bounce of the muscle car as the ‘stang skated forward on his tires, almost giddy as he roared up past 70 and pitched contently.

“Like this song, Bee?” Cade uncapped a sharpie with a smile, flipping to a clean page in his journal. He tapped the roof in the general direction of the overhead light, and was rewarded when Bee flicked on his inside lights so Cade could see what the hell he was doing.

The muscle car purred in warm delight, leaning to the slightly mellow beat as the song hit it’s refrain.

“Yeah, me too.” Cade chuckled. Well, really he only liked where the song was from, since Back to the Future had been one of Tess’ favorites as a kid. She wore out the VHS twice, the third was still stashed away somewhere. He had never heard the full version of this song, but Bee could make anyone like anything, he was so lively and cheerful over shit. And, really, the little fellow seemed stuck in the 80’s so much it amused Cade to know end.

“Cause I’mma lonely stranger, in this time bomb town…”

“Keep it under 88, Bee. Don’t need another cop on our ass,” Cade warned without looking up from his sketching.

He received a woeful buzzing hum and smiled when the little ‘stang released his gas and slowed to a more reasonable speed.

Cade glanced in the rearview, sighing when he counted the head lights.

He wondered how long it’d take him to stop looking for a semi’s high beams.

And he wondered why it mattered that he did in the first place.

“Oh, there must be a million people…they’re all tryin’ ta make it down…cause they’re just lonely strangers in this time…bomb…town…”

He’s just hit his twenty first birthday, and it’s started with far too much fanfare when a small body collides with him in his and Em’s bed. Cade omphs sleepily, coming awake to hear a litany of tiny giggles and more distant, louder ones.

“Daddyyy!!” His baby girl wails, scolding and overjoyed as she scrambles herself over comforter and pillows to perch on his stomach, knocking the wind from him a second time. Em’s laughter heightens and he snickers too, pawing sleepily at his face. His eyes roll closed, heaving a sigh as he relaxes back into his warm and blessedly quiet bed.

This is not the right answer, apparently.

“Time to geddup!” Comes the crow of a little girl with some of her teeth and all of her mother’s gold-spun hair. They’d let it grow wild as the fields out back, and sometimes Cade called her Rapunzel, to which she demand he build her a tower so she could truly be Rapunzel. Maybe one day, when the bills were managed, and the inventions brought in the money he knew they’d make.

Maybe one day.

“M’up! M’up…g’mornin’…baby…”

“…yer not! Up!” Tessa pounces in place again, making him groan and swoop an arm up behind her little back, if only to ensure she doesn’t fall backwards and end the family line with a misplaced hop. Blessedly, Em’s voice says,

“Okay, Tessa, that’s enough, Daddy’s getting up.”

“Daddy’s gettin’ to old fer this,” Cade corrects with a weary chuckle.

“Cade,” Emily laughs, and Cade wonders if he can bottle her laugh to keep it always, “Twenty one is not old.”

“Maybe not fer you!” He protests, earning another snicker.

Cade rolls over after his daughter hops down, and feigns sleep even as he counts to five.

He’s tackled by them both this time, and he mock roars and burrows under the blankets to avoid them.

He’s somewhere east of Nevada, not the furthest he’s been from home but far enough.

And anyway, home wasn’t in Paris, Texas anymore.

Home was whatever shelter they could scrap together. The back of an old gas station, with no power but plenty of light thanks to the bot’s headlights. Or the back of one of the bot’s alt modes, his jacket for a pillow and the sun for his wake up call.

Cade stretches out onto his back, keeping a leg up so he doesn’t slid off Drift’s sleek car mode and studies the night sky.

“You think Optimus is one of those stars, Drift?” Stars were millions of light years away, and the black of space isn’t helping soothe Cade’s lingering fears. It is a damn gorgeous night though, and a rare one that is quiet and calm. Cade knows he needs to enjoy it while it lasts.

“I certainly think that if he is, he would be very proud at all you’ve accomplished. You have repaired us and others, and allowed us to remain free when we are living on a planet that would sooner see us in chains, or worse. You honor Optimus Prime with your actions, my friend. Never let go of that.”

“Yeah?” Cade isn’t as certain as his friend, but he remains silent and simply star gazes while Drift meditates or whatever the hell he calls it.

“Hope he comes back soon, Drift. We really need him.”

He doesn’t mean ‘we’, not entirely. Drift knows that, but Drift lets him save face and says nothing.

It’s afternoon, the sun baking and roaring above, not a cloud in the Texan sky.

But it’s cool in the barn, except for the oven behind Cade. Which is fine, he supposes.

…oven?

“Lemme see, Daddy, lemme see!” The excited coo distracts him and Cade’s smile returns.

“Okay, okay! Up we go!”

He takes hold of his six year old under her arms and hefts her onto her grandfather’s work bench, now repurposed and holding his most precious inventions and in progress nonsense things.

Tessa squeals in delight at the latest project, reaching tiny hands that Cade deftly redirects away from the sharp, pointy bits.

He answers all her questions dutifully—both sensical and non—but halts when Tessa turns with a bright, beaming smile and holds up something to show something up and behind Cade.

He pauses, giving her a confused smile until he is very, very aware that the ovens are moving. The heat lowers over him, and they are cast into the shadow of something humongous but controlled, inner workings tk-ing and whirr-ing softly. Whatever it is, it’s Alive, and responsive.

There’s a low rumble of amusement in reply to Tessa’s happy rambles, and Cade whips in place, staring with wide eyes up at the massive, living machine resting casually in the back of his lab.

Optimus Prime exhales again, a wuff of warm, almost friendly steam as he takes his intelligent optics from Tessa to rest them on her father.

Cade realizes he hasn’t breathed in a minute, so he gasps it out.

But…no. This is wrong. All of it.

Tessa was too young. Optimus never looked this polished, this gleaming. Not until after they escaped, until after his house and lab were trampled and blasted to bits. It’s wrong, but perhaps in the best of ways.

“I’m dreaming.” Cade breathes, but he cracks a smile anyway at the big fellow, reaching a shy hand up to touch, to greet.

Optimus bows his helm a little at his voice, and those ocean colored optics crinkle at him, gentle and almost loving.

A curled, metal digit moved forward to push against his palm in such a gentle trusting display, and Cade’s heart flew.

Cade had always been fond of machines. He was still getting used to machines returning the sentiment.

Cade woke up, and the first thing he did was wish he hadn’t.

Not because he hurt—far from it, actually, he felt pretty damn good. Must be in a hospital, must be on the good stuff—but because it meant he wasn’t dreaming anymore.

Tangled and twisted as they were, they’d been some damn good ones. Weird as fuck, and certainly a testament that whatever they had given him really must be the good stuff.

But awake he was, and he decided to try and make the most of it.

Cade took tired stock of all his limbs, his mouth, his fingers, his bones. He didn’t move his left arm much, afraid to wake Tessa who must have crawled into the bed with him when he…wait, what?

Cade cracked open an eye, choked on the tubing going down his throat, and wheezed as his tired brain tried to properly align the timelines of his current life, and untangle it from the foggy, honey-warm memories of his past.

Izzy sat up from his good side, startled and eyes wide and braid a mess. She looked like she hadn’t slept, and his heart ached in regret for scaring her so. Poor thing had been through enough, and Cade was nothing if not a father.

“Cade!” He winced at her volume and swung a hand up and down, ‘Keep it down,’ he mimed with a woeful look.

“Sorry,” she muttered, but sat up to shake Vivian awake, who was leaning at an awkward angle in her chair on the same side Izzy was.

Cade eyed the room he was in, pressing back to see the broad window his bed was set up across from. It was evening, but of what day and what time exactly he had no clue. The lights were on yet, and he could see well enough, even in the grey cloud cover.  

Figures, he’d be stuck on the first floor with a lovely view of the miserable…parking…lot.

‘Holy shit.’

Cade stared at the jeweled, flame-painted semi parked so close to the sidewalk it was a miracle its grill wasn’t touching the grass on the other side of the path. Even just sitting there, silent and lifeless it was a thing of power and pride and control. Immediately, Cade felt safer, felt more relaxed. Optimus was here. He was really here. That part hadn’t been a dream. 

Maybe it was the drugs, but he was pretty sure the big fella was staring back.

The little yellow and black mustang parked to the semi’s right flashed its headlights cutely at him, giving him his answer. Well, one of them was watching closely enough to notice he was sitting up slightly, and aware enough to be looking out his window.

Cade grinned around his feeding tube, and lifted an aching hand to wave back.

And then Vivi was talking to him, and a doctor was coming in, and Izzy was scolding him tearfully, and Cade laid there and tried not to tune them all out as he stared across the room.

Dreaming was nice, yeah. But waking up to find Optimus back definitely outweighed any fairytales and far off memories.

‘He was in surgery for a long time.’ Bumblebee’s young voice spoke across the group’s communication lines.

‘That’s Cade fer ya,’ Crosshairs sounded too sleepy to be a complete jackass, which was nice. ‘Never makes it easy, lil slagger. Damn if he ain’t a little unkillable.’ Even tired, the sniper put some admiration in his words.

‘He has a strong spark,’ came Drift’s more diplomatic purr. ‘No less would be accepted into our folds, hmm?’

‘I’m just glad he’s awake. Means I can get some shut eye without worrying bout him bitin’ it.’ Hound pitched in from his spot down the aisle.

‘Want me and Hot Rod to check the perimeter again, Optimus?’ Bee asked. ‘…Optimus?’

‘Apologies, Bumblebee. I was lost in thought. If you feel it is necessary, you may, but I’ve picked up nothing on my scanners in terms of a threat.’

While their usually stalwart and calculating commander giving a rather…wishy-washy answer was out of character, the little scout said nothing for a beat. The rest of the team certainly didn’t broach the subject. They’d already pushed Prime enough back at the little encampment, and Lennox wasn’t here to verbally combat Prime. 

‘I’ll stay here then. Hot Rod said he didn’t mind going solo.’

Optimus gave no reply.

While lacking eyes, Transformers carried plenty of other sensors, most beyond comparison to a human’s meager list of abilities. It would be obvious to any other mech where nearly 100% of Prime’s attention was aimed, and so Bee followed his leader’s unyielding gaze with a mental shrug.

Bee studied Cade’s peaceful, now sleeping form and realized something.

‘This is probably the best bed he’s slept in since last month.’

This comment was locked down to his and Prime’s private, shared airwave. When there was no comment made from the big Western Star, Bee spoke on, fearless and young as usual.

‘Cade hates hospitals, Optimus. We found that out the hard way. Think it’s something to do with him losing his sweetheart, but he’s never really said it outright. I’ll bet you my last red grade shard, the second he’s off the drugs and awake, he’ll be checking out. Even if the medic’s tell him no.’

A low grunt sounded beside him, and Bee bit back a chuckle.

‘Broke his arm once, I don’t think the plaster was dry before he was in Crosshairs and bitching to grab a burger. It healed alright but only because we made him take it easy.’

‘Cade Yeager is a stubborn individual.’ Prime uttered in his pragmatic, almost distant way. Bee chuckled at the understatement of one of their centuries. That was a lotta years, mind you.

‘Yeah, we always figured that was onna the things you liked most ‘bout him.’

 Bee knew that their history meant he was different in Prime’s optics. He knew he was more friend than weapon, more son than solider. And he knew he loved Optimus dearly, the same way Tessa adored Cade.

He also knew he had a wider boundary when it came to what he could say and get away with when speaking to the intimidating commander.

When your undersized egg cracks open in those mighty cupped hands, and his are the first optics to greet you into the world, and the first kind touch you feel is a huge thumb that rubs between the small nubs that would one day be your horns…why not take advantage of such a connection?

Bee had most definitely earned it.

‘Hey…Look, he’s gunna be okay, Optimus. Don’t push him away, no matter how much safer you think it’ll make him. Cade won’t understand it. You’ll only end up hurting him.’

‘…you speak so assuredly, young one.’ The rumble is a welcome change from the fury and fire that Bee had faced down earlier with Will. For a moment, it was almost like things were back to normal. Bee had heard what had happened after he and Hot Rod had sped Cade to the nearest emergency. Transformers were a gossipy lot, and Bee knew Ironhide would have been proud as a fledged seeker to know his human partner had stood up to Optimus, and kept him from making a very poor decision that would have hurt all of them, least of all Cade.

‘Because Lennox was right, Op. Cade’s not just a human, he’s one of us now. He’s a medic, and a pretty damn good commander. And anytime he stumbled or lost his way, he’d ask me what you would do.’ This was, sadly, the wrong thing to say. Bee didn’t realize it until too late.

‘I hope you gave him better advice than that. To follow in my steps would lead ruin to how many worlds? I believe I’ve doomed two by now? And their collective species?’

‘Optimus…’

But Prime would hear no more.

‘Enough. I appreciate your counsel, but I did not ask for it. Cade Yeager should return to his life and his home and he will be better for it. It is not my fault if he lacks the common sense to understand, or agree with my verdict, but I am the commander and my word is final.’ Optimus’ tone had darkened a great deal by the time he ended his little rant. And then, suddenly, he admitted a low and quiet:

‘…and at the very least, he will be alive to do so. That’s all that matters.’

Bumblebee understood then. He had been right along, and Cade hadn’t. But all good scouts know when to fall back, and the best racers knew when to lock the brakes and skid to a halt.

So he did, for now.

‘…okay, Optimus.’ Said Bee, in the familiar air that meant he was done but only for now. ‘You can think that. But, you know? It’s been a couple hundred years. No one would blame you for being selfish. Just this once.’

Bumblebee took himself from park, turned his engines and reversed. He knew if he stuck around any longer, things would only get worse. There was sometimes no talking to Optimus when he got into a mood like this.

As frustrating as it was, Bee didn’t have the spark in him to be mad at the old mech. After the pain Prime had been through, and grieving the loss of Cybertron twice now, he’d earned some moping.

His team’s previous accusations about Cade’s irrational habits over his well-being were right. He had a sneaking suspicion the man was currently trying to swing an escape from the hospital for the past day or so. His ribs had been bruised, and one had cracked. Over time the injury had worsened, no surprise there. Cade’s movements and walking had made the splintering rib bone slowly and surely head into his organs, where it pushed against the protective wall of ligament and tissue until it became too much to bare. Nothing had been punctured, Cade had not bled out (or in) and so he would be alright. Yet despite his injury and it’s severity, there he was, animatedly talking at the poor doctor or nurse or whoever. Prime watched with tired amusement.

Really, Optimus wasn’t surprised. He was sore himself, though, and tired. He’d gotten a little rest, dozing in and out while never really letting himself relax. He prided himself on being able to recharge anywhere, but right now…

No use for it. He was too on edge.

This happened sometimes, especially after a very deadly and hard-earned battle. Prime’s were not layabouts, and they certainly weren’t created to enjoy, or even entertain, boredom. They were made for war, for fights, and if you asked some, or even observed any bit of Cybertron’s long history, for tyranny and conquering and cruelty.

But he was tired. And he felt older than he had in years, and Optimus Prime, frankly, just wanted rest.

And he found himself longing for somewhere sheltered, and dark and quiet.

The back of a barn sprung to mind…

Bah. The commander forced himself from his light doze and swept the area with his long range scanners. Nothing, although Hot Rod and Bumblebee were getting antsy and were liable to get themselves into trouble if they waited here much longer. Typical of their model and their age, and they amused Prime more than irritated him.

Drift was gone, but on the very edge of his reach he felt the triple’s presence skating a loose circle. He was surprised Crosshairs hadn’t joined the triple, but noticed both he and Hound really were asleep, and deeply to boot.

Optimus watched the sun rise for a little while, and took note that more than half of Cybertron was gone, the planet hardly distinguishable through the atmosphere and the thick, New England weather that it was so famous for.

It was cold, and damp, and frankly, Optimus was miserable.

Somewhere dark, and quiet. And dry, with the sun warming the landscape, perhaps a cool breeze here or there. The back of the lab, listening and watching the young man invent and curse and create and wonder and learn.

…delivering Cade home and then leaving him—with proper shelter, food, and any other resources he might need of course—was going to be harder than he thought.

Optimus watched silently from his parking spot as the three humans exited the little building. Cade was between the two girls, both trying to help him and both being refused. Even though he was favoring on side and limping so baldy it was a wonder he didn’t have crutches, Cade made it the short walk round the curving path and toward the parked line of disguised autobots.

“Cade, I really think you ought to stay put a few more days, what would it hurt?” The last Witwiccan member was trying to talk Cade into returning to the hospital. Optimus bit back a snort. It seemed Cade had not changed much in his absence, and there was few things you could get Cade Yeager to do when he didn’t want to do them.

“He’s not gunna listen, he’s too stupid fer that,” The little girl snapped in reply, though it was clear it wasn’t Vivian she was upset with.

“I can hear you, just my ribs that were busted,” Cade griped, but when he lifted his head to eye them all his face lit up.

“Hey team! Miss me?”

“Like a rust rash,” drawled Crosshairs, “Lookit you, Cade, ya look like shit! Get the hell back in the medbay!”

“The hell I will, I’d die of starvation before I got healed enough for them uptight, pompous ba—”

“Yeager.” Vivian snapped, darting a firm look down to Izzy who was hugging his other side, and Optimus instantly liked her.

“… dedicated workers who saved my miserable ass.” Cade elected to finish with a grunt, but he smirked when Izzy giggled.

Although he saw where Cade was angled, Optimus unlocked his door and let it fall open invitingly.

Everyone paused then, but the little arch to the inventor’s spine and the spark in his warm hazel eyes made even Optimus gentle.

“Welcome back, Cade Yeager. I…ought to have said that sooner. But so much has been happening lately…”

“I geddit, big rig. Don’t gotta apologize to me.” Cade soothed so quickly he couldn’t have been anything but honest, and Prime softened further.

‘Primus, give me strength. How do I cut ties with a soul that makes mine sing in ways I haven’t felt since…since I was a young Orion?’

How indeed.

“Cade—I’m not sure if you should—” When she was tossed a growing scowl from the normally easy going man, Vivian held up her hands in defense. “The height! The doctor’s said to be careful about strenuous activities! And he—Optimus is very big, Cade!”

Hound snorted in amusement, and even Bee trilled under his dash.

“Awh, this doesn’t count. Well—this is different, I mean! C’mon Iz.” Cade waved her with him, hobbling to the semi’s gleaming side with the young girl’s help. He looked delighted to just approach the looming vehicle, like a youngling racer on a new track, and Prime was pleased when Cade gave into whimsy and stroked his hand along his wheel well for a beat. The soft touch had picked up some new calluses, but it was the same fond pat Optimus remembered receiving all those years ago. That same had that had touched and pushed and tested the precious metal that sealed his spark inside its casing. He was glad Cade was no another Transformer, for he had never had someone work on him in such an intimate place, with exception to Ratchet, who didn’t count due to their deep bond.

But Cade was a human, and he would always be human.

‘So much has changed. Cade Yeager has not.’ How could such a statement be so comforting? Why wasn’t Cade mad at him? He—Nemesis—had nearly ended Cade’s planet, his life, and the lives of his species and the human’s!

But instead of hurt and anger and bitter-words, Cade seemed all too eager to welcome him back to the way things were, to hand over leadership of the team and…do what, exactly? He would still be their medic, wouldn’t he? If Optimus choose to keep him close, that is.

If…

His team had no one else for repairs, by their very own admission. Medics were rare as femmes these days, and that wasn’t good.

“The big guy wouldn’t let me fall, right Optimus?” With a laugh, and so unaware of the semi’s plans it was almost comical, the inventor carefully and slowly boosted his injured body up into the cab. And for a moment, Prime could say nothing, rendered speechless for a beat.

“No, Cade Yeager.” He rumbled finally, words slow and cherry picked carefully. “I would never let anything happen to you.”

Bumblebee’s attention was wholly and soundly ignored, no matter how much it burned into his bumper on the drive back to the camp.

"Hey, big rig? Can we swing by a McDonald's or somethin' real quick? I'm starved, and so's the kid."

Chapter Text

“If you do not consider yourself
a testament to the impossible
let me help you understand…”

Part IV. We’ll Figure It Out Tomorrow

Cade eased himself out of the semi, snorting in amusement when the side of the rig actually dipped down in time with his careful scoot. This gesture kept him from completely eating shit onto the slick grass below, and he was grateful. He hummed, letting his hand cling to the door edge just a bit longer than necessary. Beside him, several horses lowered to a manageable rumble, and it almost sound pleased at Cade’s quiet little cling.

“Almost ready to head home, big rig?” Cade said, righting himself and giving a few careful stretches. “Ow, fuck, okay. Nope, not doin’ that again…”

“Be more careful.” Came an immediate warning grouse from Prime, who closed his door and released his brakes. The semi didn’t move though, because Izzy was milling about the right side of his gleaming grill and Hot Rod was playfully stalking her, using the much larger bot’s body as a shield. Hot Rod slid close in on the grass as he dared, bumped her with his nose softly and reversed with a cackle when she shrieked and turned to swat him. She broke out into a run after him, much to his delight. The only things racers enjoyed more than chasing was being chased—it meant something fun and freeing for them.

Optimus sighed, tired of youngling antics but let them be. Like Bumblebee, Hot Rod had to grow up quickly as well, and he loathed how often he had to ask so much of them. A little nonsense now and then was acceptable.

Cade laughed, perhaps at Prime, perhaps at the two kids. Hot Rod was certainly…entertaining when he wasn’t being too much of a spitfire. Cade had talked with Izzy while they’d munched their food, and he was surprised when she agreed that staying with Vivian and Hot Rod would be safer.

‘Once the house is back up, you’re moving in though, right?’ Cade knew how to offer something to a kid to make them feel important. ‘I won’t let it take long, I promise kiddo.’

‘Duh.’ She rolled her eyes and sucked down her milkshake. ‘We’re family….but I like Vi. And Hot Rod and Squeaks get along.’

‘Don’t you mean Ooht, Rood?’ And Cade laughed until his side hurt, which didn’t take very long but was worth it, especially when Prime’s engines rolled in concern for him.

“Bad as Bee is,” Cade admonished to the looming Western Star, watching with fondness as the two scampered off, “C’mon, let’s find Lennox.”

He eyed the smaller than before encampment, only a few vehicles left and none of them Autobot, but all manmade. “Shouldn’t be too hard, everyone’s split except a couple guys, it looks like.”

“He is Eastward. Up that slope.” Optimus informed, and watched with amusement as Cade squinted at the thinly visible sun and turned in his estimate of the direction. Humans. What strange little organic wonders they were, with their inner skills and habits. Transformers could read stars as well as the next living sentient metal being that was born with an inner electrical mass designed to tell them where they were among the stars. But humans seemed to do it all on their own, lacking certain tools. In the absence of such tools, they created. They simply had to, to survive. So many Transformers were innately born with their systems and instincts and battle lust, to say nothing of their weapons.

Prime liked that remarkable trait. When humans made instead of destroyed.

For that matter, he used to like it when Cybertronians did the same thing.

‘Gone are those days, I suppose.’ Prime swept the bitter thought away, into the depths of his processors.

‘Grieve on your feet, solider.’

Cade made it three steps before his body protested, and though he swallowed a yelp he still overbalanced. He would have fallen, if not for the flamed flank that swept sideways, only a little bit awkwardly. Cade had the good sense to brace himself that way and he huffed, wincing as he uprighted his sore spine and very angry ribcage as much as he dared. But he stayed rooted beside Optimus, side stepping even closer so the semi could realign his axles and actually roll forward to even out from his sharp turn inward.

They stood for a moment, man clinging to machine. Optimus marveled at the sound of his tiny heartbeat. His engines idled. He waited with patience, listening to the little human and drinking in the sheer trust Cade Yeager placed in him.

He’d been on Earth so many years. Cade was one of the first of his species to act so…natural with him. As a dear friend, not just a towering, glittering titan that ruled his species.

“Thanks, Optimus.” Cade puffed out another whisper of gratitude, and perhaps relief, as the two moved walked together, navigating the grassy slope. “It’s easier for me to walk on flat ground right now, but obviously here…”

“Perhaps you should stay inside my cab until then.” Prime offered before he realized he was doing it. He wondered what others would say, then decided that didn’t matter a bit to him. Cade’s safety was priority, just as anyone of his team member’s would be. It was why he’d let Cade work on them all the last day or so.

It was why he was feeling so protective now, over the young medic. He got the same way over Ratchet…at least, he used to.

No one would dare deny a Prime anything, let alone the simple companionship of Cade, his medic. Prime wondered why he was going to deny himself of the joy, and hated himself further.

Oblivious, Cade spoke on.

“Nawh, there’s work to do. I’m gunna do what I can to help out, bud.” His hand patted the wheel well with a touch that was both fond and strict, as if daring to scold the Prime. “You are first on my list when we get on the ship, mister. You favored your far back axel and tire the whole way here. That thing blows out then what do we do? Huh? It’ll take four of these guys to haul you!”

“I sure as hell can’t do it.” Hound agreed good naturedly, making even Prime snort.

Optimus would never figure out how Cade could make someone feel as if Ratchet himself had leant from his medbay and threatened your safety over repairs. For Solus’ sake the man didn’t even wield a wrench and he managed it!

“Very well, Cade.” He grunted lightly, unable to hide his humor.

“I heard that rattle in your engine too. I got enough in me to do repairs but the second we’re at home base you’re going up on the lift.” Cade rambled on conversationally, tone airy and light even as he hid the pain on his face that simply walking caused. Optimus didn’t even want to picture the stress of bending and twisting and reaching that would ignite Cade’s already enflamed injuries. Little fool.

“You repaired the barn then?” Prime tried to keep the eagerness from his tone, but he wasn’t sure how well he did it. That cool, dark building was still tempting him from his memory banks.

“What? Oh, no,” and the laugh was tired and old, making Prime frown internally. “Lab’s in ruins still. House is demolished. Great, right? We made it home, five years ago. I got Tess and Lucky Charm sent off to safety. Then it was just me. Except because someone was hiding ‘fugitive alien war machines’ the brand new TRF chased innocent little ole’ me out.”

Cade tossed him a lopsided, familiar smile of daring and stubbornness that Prime remembered well.

“They woulda left ya alone if ya gave us up,” Crosshairs reminded with a jab of his sword as he strode by. “Makin’ it sound like yer so guiltless.”

“Suck a lugnut, Cross.” Cade replied breezily.

None of this made total sense, but as Optimus listened to his team, the story unraveled.

Joyce’s promise of help had come through. But only in the sense that it had bought them a little time. A little money to sneak by with. The rest was left up to Cade and Bumblebee, who gathered what they needed to survive and hightailed it out of the state. Being chased by his own kind hadn’t softened any of Cade’s opinions on humans, though he reluctantly agreed midway through the story that Lennox and some of the men played cat and mouse on purpose. They had let Cade and his team get away a scant handful of times. They didn’t agree with their government, and though NEST was long disbanded, Prime was a touch grateful to know that some of humans still sided with their kind.

Loyalties weren’t tested when peace reigned, but when wartime did.

For five Earth years, Cade and the Autobots hopscotched across the countryside. Through snow and sleet and rain and mud and gunfire. Never letting roots spread, but seeking allies. Chasing, hunting, being chased, being hunted. Repairing Transformers that promised loyalty—not Autobots, Prime noticed the wording and was caught with a bolt of surprise, then wondered why that surprised him at all—a medic helped anyone in need after all. That was Ratchet’s creed back then and it was Cade Yeager’s to carry now. He seemed to do so proudly. Optimus had never told the man about the creed, but perhaps Bumblebee had passed on the morale code.

Not for the first time, Optimus wondered what Ratchet would have thought of the man leaning on him, so familiar and trusting but stubborn as hell. Prime decided Ratchet would have liked the man, even if he could hear their arguments now, echoing across time in another, perhaps sweeter, dimension.

But that wasn’t his Reality. This was.

Optimus let himself remain silent, listening and missing and learning.

“The TRF broke apart when we got you back, though. I guess there’s something to be said for that.” Cade shrugged, then winced at the gesture and leaned further into Prime’s cool side.

“Bah, ah don’t trust ‘em.” Cross muttered under his breath, then spotted Lennox standing near him, just staring up with a flat expression. Cross glared, his faceplating scrunching as he demanded a cold,

“What? Think one battle against the big bad erases the slag you put us through? You lil vermin always aim fer the wings, think Drift likes that? How bout the time yer team tried holding Cade here to lure us in?” Cross jabbed a finger down at the human leaning on Prime’s side.

That caught the listening Prime’s interest, and Will had the common sense to step back and huff, tilting his head to Optimus’ obvious stare at the man. Cade, still leaning on the semi’s flank, was oddly silent now, but his grip was tight and it made a bolt of protectiveness flare inside the Prime.

Perhaps the memory wasn’t a fond one, and Optimus didn’t blame him.

Betrayal was one thing, but having to learn you were a weakness to your team simply by being you was a harsh lesson.

“We…we did do that, Optimus. It wasn’t my idea.” Will shook his head, “Some bigshot trying to prove something called that mission. It was stupid. Reckless. You know I’d never pull shit like that. I know that doesn’t make it any better, but…”

“What happened?” Prime asked. He had a good idea but wanted to hear it for himself, frankly.

Bumblebee played a sound byte of a familiar, horrible metallic roar that Optimus hadn’t heard in five years.

“Grimlock happened.” Hound grunted. “They nicked Cade in the middle of the night at an old base, cold cocked and all. Grimlock picked up the scent and that was it. Flattened the entire base and torched what was left. They’re a noisy buncha idiots, but them Dinobots came in handy over the years.”

“Then there was the time Bee and your medic—” Lennox jerked his hand to Cade as he said this, making Prime’s engines rumble in pride, “Snuck into our security base in Nevada and freed some Transformers.”

“Hey, I gave Scrapper a new claw. Scrapper gave us good intel. We got five autobots that day, Optimus.” Cade splayed his free hand to prove such a feat, his smugness bleeding back into him.

Now that really caught his interest, filing the rest of the news away for later.

“Scrapper? The—The Decepticon Constructicon?” Optimus demanded. This man. He was going to be the death of Prime from sheer nerves alone it seemed. Of course, Cade and the others had said as much. ‘We help any Transformers that need us.’

There’d never been a truly marked difference in factions. Of course not. Plenty of the medics would sneak behind lines or send signals out for trades—repairs for Energon, or supplies. Tempting offers from both sides. It got you and your team another day, and both Leaders acknowledged it happening while simultaneously ignoring it. But Optimus often had wondered…what if it was like that all the time? That both sides could finally trust each other? Not just once in a blue moon?

Had that happened, then? In some small way, in the little junkyard in the states? Prime knows it’s happened before, on small, aggressive planets where Transformers’ need for survival outweighed a civil war that many could not remember the cause for.

But to know it was happening on Earth, on a planet with far better resources and space to roam and to share with the local fauna…

Oh, it was an entertaining, wistful thought.

“Yeah. We found him, big yellow guy. He’s pretty smart, he was their mechanic too, I think.” Cade answered, lightly, as if he weren’t talking about one of Devestator’s hands, both literally and figuratively.

“Ain’t no more.” Hound sounded pleased as punch to relay this gossip. “Got left fer dead and we found ‘im in the junkyard before our current one. Cade got him up and running. Let ‘im stay, but he comes and goes as he pleases.”

“Little slagger’s not too bad.” For even Crosshairs to begrudge that, then Scrapper must have truly been staying under the radar, or even earning his keep and then some.

“You’ve all been quite busy.” Optimus finally angled for tired, bewildered diplomacy. It seemed the easiest solution, because he didn’t feel mad but he didn’t feel happy either. He felt…he wasn’t sure how he felt.

“Optimus, about NEST…” Will choose to speak up then. Unfortunately it was the wrong moment. Optimus stood between two worlds, the disbanded NEST whose remaining members either turned into TRF or abandoned them, and the concept of a small safe haven of a junkyard, where all were welcome and choose peace out of necessity and survival, not because they were chained up or forced.

The choice was an obvious one, to Optimus Prime.

“I’m sorry, Lennox, but that is not on the table for discussion right now.” Now that? That he did know exactly how to feel about. The growing sizzling spark of anger flourished along his center and he grunted.

Will looked startled, perhaps a bit alarmed. It occurred to Prime that he was not speaking to the head of the US Military, and therefore Lennox would have to answer for whatever happened in the next few minutes.

He wished no ill will on the man, on Ironhide’s old friend and partner.

But he refused to bow down anymore, and entertain the notion that he could pretend to trust this government.

“With Cybertron gone, there is much to clean up in its wake. Its coming here was my fault. I acknowledge that. My autobots and I will take account for our actions. But until your own kind do as well, I will not linger and wait on hooks for their commands. I did that and I lost good friends, who were older than your own moon. Friends who died for your people, for your cause. I lost my freedom, and the apparent rights to my own genetic making because of humanity’s choices.”

His door opened. He felt a bolt of affection flood his angry edges when Cade, without a word, began to climb into his seat. The simple act of trust and support washed over Optimus like a sink into a hot oil bath. His team folded into alt mode without command, just as insync with him as Cade was.

His resolved hardened to steel, empowered.

“Optimus, this isn’t like that. It’s just—”

(“We don’t need you anymore.”)

“You do not need us.” The word sliced the air like one of Drift’s razor sharp blades, and even Bee whurred softly, remembering the horrible words from that stupid little bald man so long ago…

 “Don’t deserve you, neither.” Cade muttered from the window, sighing as he relaxed. “Bee, connect a line to Will’s gear.”

“Where are going?” Lennox asked quietly, understanding and acceptance filling his frame and tone.

“Where we are welcome. Back to our base.” Prime answered, sour and warning. “We will be in touch when we are ready. Do not contact or approach the Yeager property until then. You are not welcome in my territory, and tell your government I will defend my family to the Death.”

“And if Prime won’t, the King of the Dinbots will.” Crosshairs added in snidely, with a cruel wink down at the silent and tense Lennox. “Not great odds, I’d wager.”

“Oof,” Cade muttered, smirking when even Izzy made a noise as she clamored into Hot Rod’s seat.

“Autobots, to the ship!” Prime ordered with a final call. And for Optimus Prime, that was the end of the England Incident.

The ship drifted past Cybertron’s ever retracting limbs. Only a scant few remained clinging, and those would soon be gone, releasing even as some snapped mid pull. Although they were no longer anchored to their home planet, they released Earth as well and their heavy weight pulled them lazily up into the atmosphere. It was almost dizzying to think about the three long days that Optimus had been back for. It was equally surreal to realize Cybertron had moved away from Earth slower than it had first arrived, a husk of a relic now aimless and empty.

Their home had no home, and was no home of its own.

He tried not to think about all that, although arguably it was easier some moments than others.

This was one of the easier times.

Mostly because it was night, the moon hiding as the clouds yawned and blotted out stars with clumsy gouges. The team was asleep, settled in the center cock pit together as the Autopilot traced its pattern home through the sky.

Optimus sat at the helm, unnecessary but a placement borne of habit and inability to relax himself, even when the threat of War wasn’t breathing down their necks. He glanced once or twice over his regal pauldron, one optic casting its gaze on the nearby Camaro, who was dead asleep, not even his radio playing. Cade’s cap was barely visible, pulled over his face behind the windshield.

He checked on the two more than once during their flight home. He was glad no one was awake to notice or in Bumblebee’s case, call him out on it.

The ship soared toward the marked destination. Ocean turned to beaches, turned to grassland, turned to mountains. The sun stumbled over the horizon but stuck the landing, washing the world below in a harsh light that the tired desert brushed off completely. When color returned to the landscape, Optimus noticed it was dusty, too. A thin sheen of haze was blanketing the whole place.

Cars upon cars, junkers with their hoods up, lined in acres upon acres. By now most of the team was awake, and although Prime listened, none of them bothered to speak much lower despite the sleeping Cade. Bee was awake, a flash of his headlights giving him away when he spotted Prime’s glance. The little scout rolled forward, giving an amused chitter even as he showed Cade was still comfortably asleep, deep and healing. The closed windows and blessed a/c, Bee whispered, seemed to do the trick. As did the long, slow, instrumental music lilting from the scout’s stereo.

Plus, Cade had years of practice sleeping during the bot’s usual activities and fights. He had trouble sleeping when things were too quiet, in fact, Bee informed Prime over their private airwave. Optimus snorted to himself, and shook his helm.

And soon, the ship was landing.

It was a descent too rough for even exhausted Cade to sleep through. Optimus noticed the man clumsily rousing, groping for the door handle even as he spilled from Bee’s front bench.

“Hate to admit it, but it’s good to be back. Even if it is compromised…” Crosshairs lamented as he shook his shoulders out and watched the gang plank drop down to offer an exit. “Ain’t raining so slaggin’ much.”

“You heard Prime,” Hound grunted as he stowed his cigar and ammunition he was fiddling with the last few miles of the trip. “Ain’t no one in their right drives coming out here.”

“It is a good idea to return to Cade’s land in Texas.” Drift murmured as he studied the landscape with his typical cautious passiveness. “This place is…not safe. Nor livable. We will have space there at least, and little human contact.”

Hot Rod replied something in French, earning a bitchy reply from Crosshairs. The two started to argue, for even a night of rest wasn’t enough to iron out the kinks and exhaustion everyone felt from that fight for their lives. Bumblebee rose from his crouched position, rolling a door wing into place as he marched over to intercept the spat.

Optimus had a mind to intervene as well, but unlike the other Autobots, he had no idea what to expect when he saw the junkyard up close and personal. To them, it was a type of Home. To him, it was foreign. It was the mere sight that caught him a bit off guard, and he simply stood and watched and processed it all.

It was unassuming, and dusty, and dry and terribly warm. The air seemed devoid of all moisture, which meant no threat of rust but also could be itchy. Especially when you were large and could not reach in some places under plating, where a sensitive protoform would lie.

Cade limped down the gang plank, ignoring the argument and letting Bumblebee deal with it. Drift tagged behind the human, bending down to ask him something that made Cade pause and then groan.

“Good point. Shit, I hope he didn’t wreck the place…” And no sooner had Cade’s boots hit dirt when he cupped both hands and shouted,

“AYO…GRIMLOCK!” And uttered a shrill whistle that made him blanche after from the effort of it.

“Goddamn that hurts,” and then Cade’s quiet little curses were drowned out, as the earth rumbled.

There was a metallic roar, deep and archaic. Optimus listened, judging it to be one of calling, interested answer. The rumble picked up. Grimlock turned a corner on his thick hind legs, tail swinging up high to counterbalance his immense weight. His ruby optics gleamed and he roared joyfully down at Cade, lumbering forward with a quick pace considering his immense size.

Swoop followed by method of his namesake, diving lazily to circle, spinning once to peck happily at Bee, who leant up and broke away from Crosshairs to greet his friend with delighted buzzes and noises from that Jurassic Park movie he loved so. Slug glanced over with a perfunctory air, then yawned and decided to leave the welcoming committee to his leader. He lingered over some scrap metal and sleepily munched at it, watching and waiting for orders from either of them.  

Grimlock was more in view now, stomping a clear path straight for Cade, who perked up instead of turning and running like most humans would.

“There he is, there’s our big junkyard protector~” Cade praised, and Optimus snorted at the way the man pretended not to be in pain and actually walked up to Grimlock’s intimidating, approaching frame.

The Dinobot tipped his head up, replying with a throaty rumble that trailed off as he lowered in, metal nostrils flaring as he began to snuffle and scent the unbothered human.

“There’s our big bruiser. Tell me, you been good while I been gone? Eh? Mr. King of the Dinobots kept the peace like you gotta? Tell you what, I find out you ate another police cruiser, I’m cutting off the red grade. See how you like that—ow, ow take it easy,” but Cade laughed, pressing his palms flat to Grimlock’s wide muzzle and leaning with the same level of fearlessness as he displayed to Optimus on the other side of the world.  

Cade Yeager was certainly something else.

Grimlock rumbled and snorted, apparently satisfied with checking over the human.

“I missed you too, ya old bastard. Almost bought it during the last fight,” Cade shrugged when Grimlock growled, apparently not pleased at this news. “Eh, I made it out alive, don’t I always? Besides, look whose back!”

Grimlock raised his gaze but not his head, boring his scarlet optics into the Prime’s.

He huffed a hot burst of air, right down onto Cade, and the display was clear even as his tail crooked in moderate contemplation.

<PRIME BACK.> Grimlock sounded almost bored, then appeared to shrug. <FINE WITH GRIMLOCK. DINOBOTS STILL MINE. AUTOBOTS STILL PRIMES. …MEDIC WE SHARE. SMALL, BUT GOOD MEDIC. YES?>

The question was a mere formality, and braced like one. Grimlock’s cold reptilian stare was a warning all its own. He was refraining himself from provoking a fight, and Optimus knew it.

< I appreciate you protecting my Autobots and my medic in my absence. …Cade Yeager is our medic, and I have no problems sharing resources or help, so long as your Dinobots pull their weight.>

Grimlock made a throaty noise, chuffing at the end of his exhale. He lifted his head and bobbed it once, a stalwart nod.

<ME, GRIMLOCK AGREE TO THIS. WE DINOBOTS STRONG, FIERCE. WHEN MEDIC SAYS, I BURN. YOU, PRIME, DO NOT LEAVE AGAIN. BAD TIME. WE ARE HUNGRY. MEDIC SMELLS SAD. TIME FOR NEW HUNTING GROUNDS.>

Optimus nodded at the end, gaze studying Cade’s back quietly as the little male swatted Grimlock’s nosy sniffs away, with an under tone of laughter. Cade was limping by the time he made it to the center heart of the compound, but he moved with steady stubbornness and dropped into a leaning lawn chair with relief.

“Okay Bee, time to pack up. I guess we can forget the trailer…” Cade looked over his shoulder at the flattened wreckage that, at one point, must have been a trailer. “…not exactly much good now.”

“There’s no place like home!” Bee bemoaned from the Wizard of OZ, to the tune of Cade’s tired noise that might have been a chuckle, but in his state was a wheeze.

“Give us two days and we’ll be good to go, Cade.” Crosshairs called. “Half of that is just finding the weapons cache we buried round here…fraggit, where’d I put the big red one?”

“Take Slug and sniff them out then, don’t wait for me.” Cade tried rising then, as if a two minute rest in a plastic lawn chair among the rubble was enough for him. He blinked when Optimus strode over and grumbled at him, his shadow enough to pin the little human in surprise.

“You should be resting, Cade Yeager.” He demanded, expecting to at least be obeyed in some sense.

Seeing the team immediately launch into their duties to pick up and sort without his command was humbling to say the least. And yet as much as it stung, it was rather comforting to witness.

They had been alright.

Or at least, they had survived.

Sometimes survival is all one can hope for.

“Awh, big rig, I’m fine,” lied Cade through his little square human teeth.

Even Grimlock sneezed at that, then dipped back down to dig into a hole as he and Slug sought after whatever precious items they had hidden and wanted to travel with. Knowing the Dinobots, something shiny and ultimately useless.

Bumblebee buzzed in reply before Optimus could even retort anything, and with the two of them dogging him, Cade Yeager’s resolve actually softened a fraction.

They got him to rest and dictate, but by the end of the night he was back on his feet and trying to help.

<If you ask for repairs, Cade will stop everything he’s doing and focus on you, Optimus.> Bumblebee’s original voice was startling in the moment, and Prime realized then perhaps he was more tired than he initially let on.

<He will, will he?> Prime muttered back, turning to glance over the dark and poorly lit junk yard. Stacks of weapons and parts they couldn’t live without were gathered by the already small ship. It was clear by the time things were done, one mech would fly the ship and the rest would travel by land. They had plenty for Optimus to haul, but no air tight container, merely a flat bed. It was old and rickety, but Cade had found a solid trailer hitch and he knew Optimus would pull it with as much intelligence as any human that would ordinarily be driving him.

<Yeah. Just give him something to repair. You both need it.> And Bee strode off, arms full of Energon and what appeared to be one third of a synth-maker that Optimus recognized from Ratchet’s old blueprints.

And that was apparently that.

Optimus ignored the eyes of his team on his shoulders as he stepped toward the heart of the junkyard, noting the slab that Cade likely had the Bots lay out on was far to small for someone of his girth.

Well, perhaps that was for the better. It was…easier…to accept repairs when he was in alt mode.

Cade actually poked his head out when he heard the sounds of Optimus shifting down into his earth form, landing heavily on his tires and unable to fight the drawn out shudder that ran through him, like when a human’s ankles fail them and they must favor one side for a beat.

“Fuck, big rig,” And Cade Yeager is beside his flank in the minutes it takes for Prime to regain his senses beyond the stinging pain. “We gotta lift round the back, it can take you, just gotta power ‘er up. Can you get around the trailer?”

“I can, Cade.” Prime replied, trying to find a reason to be irritated at the assumption of his weakness but finding it empty.

Cade’s concern was heartfelt and deep, and he only broke off from Prime to grab some tools that had avoided being packed by the others.

“Hound! Gimmie a hand here, I’m gunna get Optimus fixed and then we can hit the road.”

“Sure thing, Cade. Drift’ll be back soon, might be easier to work on the boss with his skinny little digits.”

“Yeah, but there’s no rush. I gotta swap out some parts anyway, so when you’re done with the lift can you haul that Freightliner we found. Grimlock dragged it to the west side.”

“Don’t want that other one? The Ken-whatever?”

“Nah, I thought I needed it but we don’t have time, and I don’t have energy. I’d rather wait for better parts…should start blackmailin’ Joyce…”

Optimus sat through most of the conversation, listening even as he killed his engine, locked his brakes and felt himself heaved upward to give Cade enough space to move about under him. The old system shuddered as it lifted him, then held. And when Optimus scanned it, he found several bits and pieces were heavily reinforced to allow for heavier and heavier vehicles to be worked on, metal from Cybertron, retrofitted and reapplied for a new purpose.

“You have semis here?” He found himself asking, more so the air than one of them specifically.

Cade was quiet, ducking down to adjust some flood lamps on extension cords, but Hound tattled with a cheerful tone.

“Our medic wanted spares for you at a moment’s notice, Boss. Course, we left a few good ones behind over the years, but this one’s a beauty. Should patch you up nice, and with a little R&R you’ll be back in fighting shape in a few weeks!” Hound informed as he lumbered westward to fetch the semi they’d be picking clean like a vulture.

For most Transformers, those that wouldn’t simply succumb to Prime’s wounds, it would take months to a year. Even scanning a new vehicle used a huge allotment of Energon, and was out of the question unless and until Prime got his energy back up, and he found a suitable replacement to shift into.

But for him, mere weeks. And he didn’t have to be laid up during that time either. Prime knew that was mostly his own lineage and the Matrix, but he also knew if he didn’t have access to replacement parts, he wouldn’t make it very far for very long without having to hole up and lick his wounds.

Even now, Cade Yeager was still refusing to see common sense, and was still so determined to repair whatever he could.

Prime let himself get lost in thought.

Cade, meanwhile, stood under Optimus and roamed his chassis with a flashlight. He poked, prodded, and craned his head.

“Your suspension ain’t as bad as it looks or sounds, Optimus. I mean, maybe don’t go dropping hundreds of thousands of feet again and landing on yer tires but…”

“If I recall, it was either that or let you and Miss Vivian plummet to your deaths into the field.” Prime rumbled, feeling a flicker of amusement at the little male’s audacity in calling him out.

Cade groused, ears turning pink at being called out, then wandered to Prime’s rear axels and got to work.

Hound came and left. Bee did as well, fetching supplies, lifting beams and rolling tires out of Cade’s way. Drift showed up around dawn, and once he was there to seal and tweak the finer details, the repairs went smoother than Prime expected.

When he was back on the new to him tires, he settled heavily into place and rocked a few times, testing the repairs and feeling his systems begin to thread into the new, soddered metal.

“You feel okay, big guy?” Cade called, face smeared in grease and dirt and sweat, but grin a dazzling display of teeth and eyes alight with pride and an inner fire that Prime sorely missed.

“More than okay, Cade Yeager. My deepest thanks.” He couldn’t keep the purr of gratitude from his tone, and politely ignored the way Cade coughed and turned, pretending the words didn’t hit him as much as they clearly did.

Prime glanced casually across the yard, pleased to see how much his team had done to clean up and pack. What Crosshairs said was two days was down to one and a half, and they could leave this early afternoon with any luck.

Seeing no reason to switch from alt mode, Prime found the trailer he was set to haul and reversed to it, feeling out behind himself and hitching up with ease. The trailer was barely road legal, but Prime figured he could make up for it. Besides, he would feel it begin to fail behind him before any drive would, even a skilled one, and would pull over if need be.

Many tended to see only him, and even with a thin layer of dust and some dents and bullet holes, he knew his shimmering hide distracted many humans from seeing beyond the visual of his might on the road.

“How we gunna get the Dinobots home?” Crosshairs finally asked of the group.”They sure as hell ain’t fittin’ on the ship.”

“And as funny as it would be to see them on I-95, we don’t need that kind of publicity either.” Cade reminded as he stood beside Bee, arms crossed.

“And I’m cruising these back roads on the out skirts of town—“ Bumblebee said suddenly, pointing to the south.

“That will be their best bet.” Prime called over in agreement. “Drift, provide cover for them and lead them back to Texas. Take whatever route will provide the least amount of human interaction, forests and rivers being the preferred.”

“We will be like the wind in the leave, Sensei,” Drift bowed, sward across his chassis briefly.

“I call the ship, my aft’s killin’ me.” Hound said.

“Awh, why do you getta to fly?” Crosshairs griped.

“Cause you ain’t got wings attached, sniper.” Hound shot back. “Sides, I ain’t moving fast on my best day. You and Bee take Prime’s front and rear, keep them human drivers off his aft so they don’t dog ‘im.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Cade agreed, looking up at Bee. “We good, Bee?”

The scout bumped his chest and flashed a peace sign, and without waiting for Cade he marched to the exit of the junkyard and folded into his Camaro alt mode.

Drift’s chopperblades thumpa-thumped as he skated a wide circle overhead and dipped west ward toward the forest. Grimlock roared up at him and began to stomp after. Swoop took to the skies and coasted beside Drift. The rest of the Dinobots pushed into a lope behind their leader. The mini’s were clinging to the backs of their parents, cheeping and shrieking and wide little glass eyes on the new world they were being lead into.

Hound vanished into the ship and it raised to duck up into the cloud cover, coordinates given and no need to linger too low and be spotted by spookish humans who remembered the Tokyo incident and all the others the Transformers had taken part in.

Cade frowned but glanced almost shyly at the sound of metal and hosing shifting behind him so close, and glanced to see the massive Western Star had its driver door open. Waiting.

“Guess Bee doesn’t want me slowing him down,” Cade joked but there was something grateful and hopeful in the depth of his eyes as he crawled gingerly into Prime’s cabin.

“You are still healing, Cade Yeager.” Prime reminded, trying to think of the last time he saw Cade sit and take a moment for himself and his own injuries. “Rest easy. I will shoulder the weight of leadership again.”

“Appreciate that big rig, but don’t think you gotta do it all by yourself anymore. Bee’s not a little kid, and…I maybe a human but I dunno, I think I’m an okay medic…”

“You are an excellent medic.” Almost as good as Ratchet, and his sheer years of experience in war time had crafted most of the old Autobot’s skill and reaction time.

“Just remember…I’m here, too? Awright?” And it was said so soft and raw, as if Cade was laying himself open for Optimus to either accept or strike down with a single word. As if Optimus hadn’t already had to do that, back in a dusty barn four years ago when he had to trust a human to repair his spark casing or instead choose a slow and painful termination.

The semi was silent as everyone began to roll out, simply unsure how to say what was on his mind.

Where would he even begin?

Would he begin with Orion Pax, the young archivist with the world laid before him and dreams and passions bigger than himself?

Would he begin with Optimus Prime, taking the Matrix from Nova Prime and trying to lead an already crumbling civilization on the brink of civil war?

Would he begin with Ratchet, Jazz, Ironhide? The friends he’d loved and lost and could never see again? Sentinel Prime’s betrayal, Megatron’s odd disappearance?

…the worry and realization that Nemesis Prime was somewhere still inside, lurking and curling in tiny whispers of Rage and Power?

And that was nothing close to half of his lifetime, and all he’d seen and all he’d done and the reasons why.

Cade relaxed against his bench, reaching a tired hand out and stroking the side of his thumb against the Autobot symbol set in the center of the warm leather.

Optimus settled on the view before him, Bumblebee’s taillights as he bolted forward, young and eager and willing to push forward despite all he’d seen over his own lifetime.

And he settled on the feel off the dirt road with his new tires, savoring the change to smooth tarmac as the road melted from back, worn and weather savaged to eventually man-made and man-kept. Soon they would be on a stretch of even better kept highway, and as the sun drifted from their left to their right, they would find themselves back in Texas, where a safe haven would be created once again.

Optimus, listening to the sounds of the ragtag group of Autobots that endured on a planet that would sooner see them dead, and decided perhaps the answer was not in the past, recent or ages ago or otherwise.

Perhaps it lay forward, instead.

So in reply to Cade’s earlier comment, Optimus Prime rumbled calmly,

“What are you doing tomorrow, Cade Yeager?”

“Eh.” The human shrugged, “Probably something stupid. Other than that…I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

Cade, clever, human Cade, seemed to understand him without words. Prime savored the realization that made the young man’s grin return.

“You in?” Cade asked of the Autobot commander, wanting to share the load equally.

“…I am.” Optimus agreed, and allowed himself a low smirk as he picked up speed, hauling the load with effortless ease.

“Someone has to keep you out of trouble.”

And Cade barked a laugh at the gentle jab, and the noise sent fireworks sprinting through the Prime’s spark casing, making him chuckle too. Cade turned Prime’s station to a country station and settled back, hat tugged over face to shield from the coming sun, and let himself be taken by the rock of the semi as they traveled.

Above and beyond, Cybertron fully abandoned Earth and drifted into the wide, open landscape of Space.

It would not be easy, and it would not happen overnight, but moving forward into the future on Earth was their best bet at survival. And perhaps, one day, with humans like Cade Yeager by his side, perhaps survival could turn into thriving.

It was certainly worth it to try, Prime decided.

“You are an assortment of atoms
carving out its very own fate
with your stardust powered hands…”

‘The Theory of You’ –Nikita Gill