Chapter Text
“Smokescreen. Smokescreen. Get down.”
Smokescreen quickly ducked down behind the rock jutting out from the ground. He glanced over at Arcee, who was shooting daggers from her optics at him.
“Did they spot us? Are we going?” Smokescreen whispered, raising his servo and transforming it into his blaster as quietly as he could (which wasn’t quietly enough for Arcee, apparently, as her glare only intensified).
“They will if you keep sticking your helm out so far like a bolt-head,” she hissed. Smokescreen lowered his blaster.
“Aw, come on, Arcee, I thought we were gonna go at ‘em!” he huffed and peeked over the rock again. “How else am I supposed to see what’s going on? We’ve been sitting here for ages. Are we just gonna let them take all the energon for themselves?”
“Keep your helm low! We’ll go when Optimus says we go.” Arcee leaned slightly to catch a glimpse of the valley below as well. “You have to learn how to be patient. Missions aren’t always just shooting and running.”
Smokescreen rolled his optics but paused as he heard his comm crackle.
“Get ready to move in. Avoid lethal blows as much as possible; these are simply miner drones. All we must do is secure the deposit,” Optimus’ deep voice rumbled quietly in Smokescreen’s audial. Yes! Finally! He’d been on patrol around base and Optimus had even allowed him to join a few scouting missions, but there hadn’t been any real action in the two or so weeks since he’d crash landed and fought off the welcome party. Here was finally a chance to prove himself to the team, that he’s not just a dead weight or inexperienced rookie that’ll slow them down! Smokescreen’s spark spun in anticipation and Arcee transformed her own servos into thin blasters. A quiet moment went by. Then another. Then another…
Heavy pedesteps and a blast echoed through the small valley and Smokescreen leapt over his hiding spot to sprint towards the energon deposit, where miners had started backing up to get away from the intruders or charging up blasters to retaliate. Smokescreen shot a vehicon that was attempting to blast him but was scuffing the ground more than actually hitting him, then twisted around to fire at two others that were retreating into the small cave but still firing outwards. His pede suddenly caught on something and he tipped forwards, slamming against the ground and scrambling to stand back up, embarrassment heating his plating. What stupid idiot trips during a battle?! He had to focus! He couldn’t fail in front of the team!!
“Smokescreen, watch out!” Smokescreen’s humiliation only increased as Optimus’ yell came from behind him and a previously-hiding vehicon ahead that had been pointing a charged blaster at his helm crumpled from a bright-blue blaster shot. Smokescreen hurriedly got to his pedes as Optimus skidded to a stop beside him, expertly shooting down enemies and deftly dodging attacks. Smokescreen couldn’t believe he’d tripped in front of Optimus Prime and had to be saved. If it had been Arcee that saw, sure, she’d never let him forget it, but Optimus? Argh, he must be so disappointed!! Smokescreen channeled his frustration into firing at the vehicons surrounding them. He had initially thought there may have been five or six miners at the deposit from what he’d seen, but more kept pouring out of the cave.
“There’s way more than I thought there would be!” Smokescreen yelled at Optimus.
“Indeed,” Optimus replied tersely, keeping his optics on the vehicons. “We must- argh!” His words were cut short as multiple blasts hit his chassis in quick succession. He fell to his knees and Smokescreen jumped closer to protect him and whipped around to find whatever hidden vehicon had managed to get such accurate hits. Another shot whizzed far too close to his helm and Smokescreen saw a shadow separate from the cave mouth as Soundwave emerged, blaster trained on the two Autobots. What the frag was Soundwave doing here?! Smokescreen returned fire and Soundwave dodged and weaved gracefully like he was swimming through the air, tentacles whipping around, then turned towards Bumblebee, who was engaged in close combat with a ‘Con and hadn’t noticed the officer’s arrival. Frag, Bee was going to get ambushed!
“Hey, Soundwave! Over here, fragger!” Smokescreen shouted but was promptly ignored. Frag, he had to help Bee, but- Smokescreen rushed over to Optimus, who was still on his knees and holding onto a jutting rock for support. He was clutching his chassis, where multiple deep wounds were leaking bright energon onto his frame and the ground.
“I will be alright,” Optimus crackled out in a way that made Smokescreen disinclined to believe that statement. “Go secure the deposit. I am able to defend myself.”
Smokescreen hesitated but jumped up at a warbled cry from Bumblebee. He sprinted as fast as he could towards the standoff, where Bee was attempting to fire at Soundwave at a close distance, limping backwards as the ‘Con dodged the blasts and thrust his tentacles forward at lightning speed to wrap one around his pedes and one around a blaster arm. Smokescreen yelled with anger as he ran up to the mechs, shooting at the ‘Con, and Soundwave jerked his helm towards Smokescreen before whipping one tentacle over at him to grab his arm and yank him to the side. Thrown off course and off balance, Smokescreen stumbled and tried to regain his bearings as Soundwave hissed air out of his vents as a splatter of blue energon suddenly appeared on his side. Smokescreen glanced to his left to see Arcee pointing her blaster at the ‘Con, standing not too far from Optimus, now slumped to the ground where Smokescreen had left him. Optimus! Frag, he shouldn’t have ran away! Smokescreen was distracted from his panic over the safety of his leader as Soundwave lunged and threw Bumblebee aside, the yellow mech tumbling and disappearing out of sight in the rocky terrain.
Sharp fear and anger swirling inside of Smokescreen as Soundwave turned to face him, and he jumped to the side as the tentacles whipped out maniacally to grab him. Smokescreen shot a few times at the creepy mech, every blast being sidestepped easily, then sprinted forward and spun to kick him square in the chassis. Soundwave stumbled backward as Smokescreen circled around to the other side.
Soundwave whipped around to hit Smokescreen with the flat part of his arm and it was his turn to stumble to the side, helm ringing from the impact. Shaking his helm and trying to raise his arms into a defensive position, Smokescreen braced for an impact that, surprisingly, didn’t come. He glanced up and saw Soundwave not looming in front of him but instead walking, almost casually (strolling through a battlefield- he really was… how had Ratchet put it? Ah, right, unique ) towards a ground bridge. Oh, no, no, no, not today, you creepy-as-slag ‘Con!! Smokescreen sprinted towards the mech, who turned at the rapidly approaching pedesteps but not fast enough to avoid the flurry of movement and absolutely top-notch leg sweep that toppled him to the ground.
“Hah! Thought you could get away so- woaahh!!” Smokescreen’s victorious declaration (not gloating, a warrior doesn’t gloat ) was cut short by the world suddenly turning itself upside down. Disoriented, he quickly swiveled his helm to figure out what in the pit was going on and, realizing he was being held by the pedes by Soundwave’s stupid tentacles, attempted to squirm out of their grasp. He almost yelped (almost) at the sudden appearance of a cracked visor in front of his optics, much too close for his liking, and his arm reacted almost by itself to bring the blaster flush to the side of Soundwave’s helm. He, like a reasonable mech who would prefer to not get their processor blown into smithereens, attempted to get the blaster away from his helm, but in a way Smokescreen very much didn’t appreciate (by dropping Smokescreen flat on the ground).
“Ow! Frag!” Smokecreen hissed and then immediately shouted with surprise as his pedes were grabbed tightly yet again and yanked to drag him behind Soundwave, still making his way to the bridge. Frag, frag, he was going to get trapped on the Nemesis!! Smokescreen desperately kicked his pedes and, after realizing that was doing frag-all, pointed his blaster at the tentacles instead and fired at them, hoping to hurt Soundwave enough to let him go. Soundwave reeled from the impacts of the blasts and the tentacles loosened enough for Smokescreen to kick them off and scramble upright, and the best course of action from there seemed to not let Soundwave near the bridge so he did what anyone, really, would have done in the situation: he barreled into the other mech full force to knock him down onto the ground (the Wreckers probably did that sort of stuff- he was like an honorary Wrecker at this point, honestly). Soundwave clearly wasn’t expecting the hug of death and suffering and Smokescreen was able to knock him forwards quite easily. They hit the ground hard and there was an audible crack as Soundwave’s helm hits a protruding rock or something, causing him to go slack for a moment underneath Smokescreen’s grasp. Smokescreen was about to incapacitate him in some cool way or another but the space bridge ahead suddenly blinked out in a way that he really didn’t think bridges were supposed to blink out (did they always stutter and shake like that?) and a flash of teal and white light caused Smokescreen to offline his optics. A really, really weird and unpleasant buzzing feeling vibrated all of his plating and a rush of wind and deafening noise buffeted his senses as he was yanked forward, thrown head over pedes- his tanks churned and he tried to call out but couldn't hear anything and the light was still everywhere and-
Smokescreen blinked. He could distantly feel solid, hard ground beneath him and something poking his side uncomfortably. His surroundings looked like a gray blur and… nope, different shades of gray blurs, actually. His optics cycled as he tried to focus. His audial systems kicked in, bringing the whistle of wind, and, yep, his pain sensors onlined too and ow , did literally everything ache. He must have been knocked into stasis while getting thrown around in whatever the frag he had been caught in if his systems were booting up like this, and the blank space in his recent memories confirmed that thought. He could actually discern where he was now (thank you, optics)- some kind of barren mountainside with a forest stretching to the horizon below. Okay, well, that didn’t clear up anything, actually. Seriously, what the frag just happened?!
Smokescreen propped himself up onto his elbows with a groan at the pounding helmache he apparently now had. Frag, everything really hurt. Granted, he did just fight with a bunch of ‘Cons, but getting tossed around probably contributed to the multitude of aches. Finally managing to stand up, he wobbled a bit but caught himself and took a few solid steps without anything creaking ominously. Good, nothing was broken. Standing gave him a bit of a wider view of his surroundings but that didn’t really help, either- it was the same view of the stretch of rocky incline slash cliffside behind him and more rock ahead of him before it dropped off sharply and was replaced by trees far below.
Well. No problem, all Smokescreen had to do was request a ground bridge and he was outta here. His comm crackled and static filled his audials before he could even say a single word.
“Scrap.” No, that’s fine. Maybe he could make his way back to base by himself…? No, two problems with that: one, he seriously didn’t know where he was, especially in relation to the base, and two, his surroundings looked drastically different from anything he’d seen in the dry, dusty Nevada landscape so he was probably nowhere near the base anyways. How did he even end up here?
Thinking back, Smokescreen could remember the ground bridge Soundwave had summoned blinking out right before he was thrown around, and he knew Soundwave could manipulate ground bridges and oh, oh, the lighting and buzzy feeling he had felt were super similar to passing through a ground bridge, just amplified to a hundred times more! So, logically thinking, Soundwave probably summoned a ground bridge right over him and popped Smokescreen to wherever this was. Ha ha, take that, Arcee, he can think things through.
Wait. By that logic, Soundwave himself would have to be around here somewhere and would be able to bridge back to where they just were. Smokescreen turned in a circle to potentially spot the ‘Con, but, nope, no weird looking black metal limbs in sight. He decided to check down the incline first but the lack of mechs and steep cutoff quickly left no doubt that even if Soundwave had landed safely downhill from Smokescreen, he was already long gone, laying somewhere in the forest below, so Smokescreen turned uphill instead and started clambering up the incline. Nothing but the cloudy sky, gray rock, and whistling wind stood out as he made his way up, occasionally struggling to get solid footholds on the loose pebbles, listening and searching all the while. However, as he took another small break and rested on a boulder (everything still ached and he was just worn out from the fight, okay?), he caught another sound among the unrelentless wind. Smokescreen strained his audials to make it out; it was so faint he wasn’t sure how he even noticed it in the first place. Listening in, however, it was pretty unmistakable: the sounds of heavy venting and barely perceptible moans.
Smokescreen cautiously stood and started slowly making his way to where he heard the sound coming from (or, approximately that direction- it was kind of hard to pinpoint among the wind). His initial guess seemed to be correct; the closer he got, the clearer it became that the noises were from a mech in pain. It… wasn’t pleasant, to say the least. The venting was ragged and fast and occasionally interrupted by a quiet but agonized moan or a static-ridden whine of pain. A glimpse past a boulder finally revealed the culprit: Soundwave, laying on his back, frame shaking and chassis heaving. A smear of blue indicated that he had already tried moving around but was, evidently, unsuccessful in getting far.
Smokescreen’s pede accidentally knocked a pebble loose and Soundwave whipped his helm in his direction. Smokescreen hastily ducked behind the large rock, praying the mech hadn’t noticed him. The pained sounds stopped and Smokescreen could barely hear the ragged venting of the other, but there was no other indication of Soundwave making an attempt to reveal Smokescreen’s hiding spot. After a bit, the venting became louder again and Smokescreen felt safe enough to vent out himself and cautiously back away.
Well. That was certainly unexpected. The last thing Smokescreen had expected was to find Soundwave leaking out next to a little alcove. Had Soundwave been injured that much in the fight? Arcee had shot him right before Smokescreen engaged with him… well, good riddance, he thought. At least that’s one positive to this mission: no more Soundwave. Smokescreen started climbing back to where he originally woke up.
Except…
Except Soundwave was the one that could summon ground bridges. And probably knew the location of many energon mines. And… frankly, Smokescreen couldn't get those awful sounds out of his processor. Was it really right to just… walk away and let him deactivate, alone, in a strange place on this alien planet?
No, no, what was he thinking?! This was Soundwave, master manipulator and cold-blooded killer, Soundwave, who had wiped out innumerable Autobot lives both directly and indirectly throughout the course of the war. Deactivating alone was just what he deserved. Smokescreen shook his helm and continued walking forward.
But…
Soundwave was also a warrior, like Smokescreen (okay, admittedly a lot more badass, like Miko would say, but, you know), and warriors deserved an honorable death, on the battlefield and at the hands of the enemy. Smokescreen paused again, rocked on his heels, clenched and unclenched his servos indecisively, grumbled in frustration, and then turned back.
Soundwave was, to no one’s surprise, still laying on his back, although his frame was more still and the only noise coming from him was the harsh venting. At Smokescreen’s appearance, however, Soundwave stiffened and scrambled to stand, tentacles writhing angrily and reaching out for him. Smokescreen quickly backed away and raised his servos placatingly.
“Hey, uh, mech, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Smokescreen called out. Soundwave managed to stand upright in a defensive position, and Smokescreen could clearly see the wound in his side leaking bright blue onto the rock.
“I know you don’t have any reason to trust me but, uh, I don’t think you’re really in any condition to fight even if I wanted to, which I don’t!” Smokescreen clarified hastily. Soundwave said nothing, but he swayed a little as his tentacles flitted indecisively around him. Without warning, he collapsed backwards but immediately tried to prop himself up again, a hiss escaping his vents. Smokescreen took a few steps towards him, servos still raised.
“Look. I don’t think either of us want to be here with each other, but we are, and I don’t know where this is and my comm’s broken so you’re kind of my only source of potential escape. And, I, uh,” Smokescreen glanced to the side awkwardly, “I kinda… feel… badjustleavingyouhere. Anyways, I can patch you up if you promise to help me get back to someplace I can actually maneuver from, okay? With your ground bridge control or whatever?”
Soundwave stared at him.
“Come on, what options do you really have? Would you seriously rather deactivate from energon loss or whatever than give me a bridge back to where we were?”
No response.
“Did you pass out or something?”
Soundwave finally moved, tilting his helm slightly as if considering the offer (come on mech, you’re actively leaking out, what’s there to consider).
“Fine,” barks Megatron’s voice. Megatron?! Smokescreen jumped and whipped around to see how the frag Megatron ended up here, too, but there was no one around except him and Soundwave. Soundwave… did Soundwave do that? Did he communicate with voice clips? That was incredibly strange. And felt kind of inefficient. Smokescreen frowned down at him. Soundwave didn’t react whatsoever. Primus, this was going to be infuriating.
“Okay, don’t move, I’ve only got a few first aid things as an emergency so I can’t waste anything,” Smokescreen muttered as he cautiously knelt down next to the ‘Con. Soundwave settled flat on his back and retracted the tentacles, still tense but allowing Smokescreen to reach the wound on his side. Smokescreen pulled out the little kit from his subspace (thank you, Ratchet, for forcing everyone to carry one of these) and took out the little clamps and patches.
“Okay, uh, I don’t have a welder, obviously, but I can clamp the big lines here, I think, and then try to stick a patch wherever else there’s leaking,” Smokescreen mumbled, more to himself than anything, but Soundwave seemed to acknowledge it with a shift of his helm. Smokescreen started working, and although he hadn’t really done anything like this before, he managed to stem most of the leaking energon dripping onto the rock. Soundwave tensed his plating a few times and hissed out air occasionally, but stayed silent and still as ever throughout the whole process. However, as Smokescreen was figuring out how best to put the last big patch to cover the exposed under-plating, Soundwave turned his helm towards him.
“Stupid Autobot,” Starscream’s voice hissed angrily. It sounded like a threat but Soundwave made no other movement or indication of hostility, so Smokescreen just shrugged.
“Yeah, heh, well, it’s not like I haven’t heard that one before.”
Soundwave tilted his helm. “Optimus Prime?” Megatron’s voice grumbled in frustration.
“No, no, not from Optimus ,” Smokescreen let out an amused ex-vent. “It’s- it’s another team member. Always criticizing me. Well, I kinda saved her aft today, so she better not say even a single word when I get back.”
Soundwave just laid his helm down again. What a riveting conversationalist. Smokescreen finished up the patch and stepped back.
“There. Okay, I patched you up. Can you summon me a ground bridge now? To… uh…” Scrap, wait, it couldn't be too close to the base or he’ll know where it is! What was another place that wasn’t too close… Oh, right, Canada was the thing above the country where Nevada is, maybe that’ll throw him off enough. Oh, frag, but he’ll know it’s on that continent! But… Smokescreen has to get back somehow. Fine, Canada it is. “To Canada. Can you bridge me there?”
Soundwave lifted his helm up at him and displayed something on his visor. Smokescreen leaned closer to see a visual of Soundwave’s energon levels.
“What? What do you want me to do with that information? Is it- oh, do you not have enough energy to summon a bridge?”
Soundwave nodded. Smokescreen did have an emergency cube for these kinds of situations, although he had been hoping to save it for himself for the drive back, but… what use would it be to him if he couldn't even get close to the base in the first place? He vented out and took it out of his subspace.
“Here.”
Soundwave reached out a tentacle and snatched the cube from Smokescreen’s servo.
“Woah! Hey, okay, it wouldn’t kill you to be a bit more polite,” he grumbled in response. Soundwave shuffled himself up with visible effort and turned his back to Smokescreen. What was he doing? Smokescreen curiously leaned to the side.
“Stop.” Megatron growled menacingly and Soundwave swiveled his helm to look at Smokescreen over his shoulder. “Stay there,” Starscream bit out.
“Okay, I got it, I’m staying.” Primus, that voice clip stuff was creepy as frag. Soundwave took the energon cube out of Smokescreen’s sight and… drank it? Could he drink through his visor or something?! No, that’s stupid. It must retract, then, for him to be able to drink. Smokescreen realizes he hadn’t been sure if Soundwave even had a face, really, but this seemed like confirmation that he did, indeed, have one. It made Soundwave seem a little less creepy, really, knowing there was just another mech underneath that impenetrable black abyss of a visor.
Soundwave finished drinking and turned back to Smokescreen, visor in place as usual. He set aside the cube and looked at Smokescreen again. Or, he was pretty sure he looked at him. His helm was angled towards Smokescreen and it was hard to tell anything more than that with this mech, to be honest.
“Where to?” A jovial voice Smokescreen doesn’t recognize asked. Soundwave’s actually keeping his end of the deal?! Yes! Let’s fragging go!!
“Canada, if you would be so kind,” Smokescreen tilted his helm at Soundwave in response. Nothing happened.
“Large area of space,” Starscream declared. “More specifically?” Another smooth voice Smokescreen didn’t recognize.
“Oh.” He hadn’t thought that through. He… didn’t actually know anything about Canada, only that it was, well, there. “I dunno. Anywhere, really. I’m not too picky.”
Soundwave shifted his helm to look ahead of him. A few seconds went by and nothing happened. Smokescreen glanced at Soundwave, who was sitting still. Another few seconds went by.
“So, uh, are you gonna do the bridge thing?”
Soundwave held up a servo. Another few seconds of silence.
“Soundwave-”
Soundwave hissed air out of his vents and shook his helm. “Comms are down,” Starscream growled in frustration. “No connection- to the Nemesis.”
Smokescreen blinked at him. “What, you’re saying you can’t summon a bridge?!”
Soundwave shook his helm. Smokescreen stared at him then started pacing in frustration. “What the frag! I use my first aid and give you my spare energon and now you can’t even hold up your end of our deal? What the absolute frag!! Now I’m stuck here in the middle of Primus-knows-where with no energon and- and- ugghh, frag it all!!”
Soundwave just watched the ranting until Smokescreen eventually tired out yelling at the sky and sat, venting heavily. A small ping brought his attention back to Soundwave’s visor.
“What. Oh, hold on, is that a map? Wait- you know where we are?!” Smokescreen scrambled closer to peer at the visor. It showed a little dot with Finland displayed next to it. Okay, great, that didn’t clear up anything at all.
“Yeah, I don’t actually know where that is so it’s not super helpful.” Smokescreen shuffled away again. “But, uh. Thanks. I guess.” A thought popped up in his mind. “Wait, if you know where we are, why don’t you just… fly over to the Nemesis?”
Soundwave tilted his helm (he really likes doing that, huh). “Comms are down,” he repeated in Starscream’s voice. “Navigation- offline.”
“Oh.” That made sense. The Nemesis was a ship, after all, not bound to a single location. “But… why are you sitting here with me? Don’t you ‘Cons, like, hate all of our guts?”
Soundwave hesitated before poking a tentacle at his right leg. Now that Smokescreen looked a little closer at it, the weird digitigrade leg did look like it was bent differently from the other.
“Did it get hurt or something?”
“I fell,” A smooth voice filled with derision came as a reply. The tentacle pointed up over Smokescreen’s helm to a ledge high above.
“Woah, you fell from there? When you woke up?”
Soundwave gave a small jerky nod.
“Oh. Wow. Sorry.”
Soundwave tilted his helm.
“What is it this time?” Smokescreen was getting annoyed by the silence.
“Sorry,” Soundwave repeated in his voice.
“Woah. That is so creepy. Don’t do that again.” Smokescreen shook himself. “I still don’t know what you mean, mech.”
“What you mean- sorry,” Soundwave repeated with his words.
“I said don’t do that! You… you don’t know what sorry means?”
Soundwave shook his helm. “Why- sorry?” He spliced Smokescreen’s word with another.
“Why am I sorry?” Smokescreen blinked at the other mech. “I- I dunno, that’s just… that’s just a normal response to something bad happening, it’s not like I caused it, but, you know. I’m showing sympathy for your situation, I guess?”
Soundwave didn’t react. Smokescreen scoffed in frustration and looked away.
“Yeah, you know what, maybe I shouldn’t be showing any sympathy for you. I don’t even know why I helped you! You’re probably just gonna stab me in the back while I’m recharging, anyways.”
Smokescreen wasn’t sure if the lack of a reply was a good or bad sign. He vented out sharply.
“Well, seeing as there’s literally nothing else to do, I’m going to go see what’s around here. Maybe a road or something that’ll lead… somewhere. I don’t know. I’m going.” He stood and climbed up with no opposition from Soundwave.
He spent the next hour or so climbing and walking around, nearly falling from a narrow ledge once and tripping over a rock unpleasantly close to a cliff face soon after. His searching proved fruitless- there was literally nothing around except a few organic creatures Smokescreen spooked with his approaching pedesteps and some scraggly, withered plants. The forest below stretched in all directions he could see, and there were some lakes in the distance to the north but no trace of human settlements or roads anywhere. The lack of literally anything anywhere only solidified the fact the Soundwave remained Smokescreen's only hope for returning to the Autobots, or, at least, his only hope as long as his comms weren’t working. As much as he hated that, Smokescreen couldn’t think of anything else he could do except… well, at least stick close to the ‘Con in case his ground-bridging powers suddenly returned. A sickening thought suddenly struck him: what if Soundwave had figured out how to bridge back already and had left him here?
The next two hours were spent hurriedly trying to get back to where Soundwave had been. After the first half hour of searching, the worry was growing and started to distract him. Although Smokescreen had been sure he remembered which way to go, the rocks started to look exactly the same wherever he turned. After he hit the one-hour mark, he was starting to panic, and after another twenty-five minutes he had to sit down for a break (to rest and most definitely not because his shaking frame made it hard to walk or because it felt like his spark was spinning out of his chassis or because his plating rippled with nausea at the thought of being left here alone). After a completely reasonable amount of time to rest and clear his processor, however, it took him only ten minutes to spot a glint of sun against obsidian glass in a dip ahead of him (he most definitely did not spend another five minutes calming down and wiping coolant from his optics that had sprung a leak from overwhelming relief).
Soundwave didn’t react as Smokescreen clambered down into the recess. The lanky mech had laid down in the spot where Smokescreen had left him and had splayed his limbs out in a strange position. The only indications that he hadn’t offlined were the occasional slight ripple of his plating and barely perceptible deep vents.
“Soundwave?” Smokescreen asked quietly. No reply. He could just be ignoring him. Smokescreen ever-so-carefully crouched and reached out to poke Soundwave’s arm. No reaction. Okay, he had to be recharging. Good, that meant Smokescreen didn’t have to be on edge from a ‘Con sitting ten feet away and observing him constantly.
Smokescreen settled down on the side of the recess furthest away from the downwards incline, leaning his back against the cliff face. What were the others doing, he wondered? Had they realized what had happened or did they have no clue? Could… could they track him? His spark jumped at the slight hope. They might be tracking him right now! But… if they were, why hadn’t they bridged over here already? It had been multiple hours since Smokescreen had disappeared through the bridge, plenty of time for the Autobots to regroup. The hope fizzled out as quickly as it had appeared. His spark spun at the memory of Optimus collapsing; was he alright? Argh, if only Smokescreen had been quicker to notice Soundwave then…
Smokescreen glared at the still frame ahead of him. Soundwave might have killed Optimus. Optimus Prime, who had worked under the same mentor as Smokescreen, who had welcomed him into the team, who had made sure he felt comfortable throughout his adjustment to the changed world around him. Soundwave might have taken that from him. Anger bubbled up inside Smokescreen and he shot to his pedes. The anger threatened to overtake his processor and he took a step towards the recharging mech in front of him. It would be so easy to throw him off the ledge, or to point his blaster at the fragging visor, and-
Smokescreen clenched his servos. No, no, what was he thinking?! Soundwave was his only way out. He couldn’t let his anger overtake him- his recklessness and poor control had gotten him reprimanded plenty of times with the Elite Guard. Smokescreen gritted his denta and stomped away, clambering up the side of the recess and blindly storming away from the stupid Decepticon and his own stupid impulses. Once he had walked a distance away, he picked up a chunk of rock off of the ground, swung his arm back, and flung it off of the ledge, letting out a long, frustrated yell into the open air that crackled out at the end. He spun on his heel and walked over to the nearest cliff wall, dropping heavily onto the ground and burying his face in his knees.
The anger that had consumed his spark faded a bit and despair reached up to replace it. Why, why had he let his guard down? Why had he not reacted quicker to get Optimus to safety? Would he even be able to return to them, or was he doomed to starve here with only a ‘Con to keep him company? No, this couldn’t be his destiny. He refused to give into such thoughts. His optics, however, did not share that sentiment, and coolant was streaking down his face and dripping onto his frame before he could stop it. His frame shook from sobs he tried to silence and he wrapped his arms around his legs tightly, clutching onto himself like his frame was the last beacon of light amidst the hurricane of emotions he found himself in.
He was able to calm himself down after a while and just watched the clouds above his helm slide across the sky for some time. He could feel exhaustion creeping in from the fight and his recent explorations, and the emotional turmoil he had experienced did not help in fighting off the want for recharge. As much as he loathed the idea of recharging next a ‘Con (unconscious, open, vulnerable ), he dragged his tired frame back to where Soundwave still lay and curled up as far away as he could from the other mech. He set his audial and vibration sensitivity to the max to make sure any movement, Cybertronian or otherwise, would immediately wake him up, and he tried to keep his optics open as long as possible to watch for anything suspicious from Soundwave, but the exhaustion pulled him down into recharge quickly.
.
.
.
Ratchet tapped his pede anxiously as he stared at the display in front of him. His optics flitted between the various comm signals, energon readings, and coordinates of the mine. The rational part of his processor insisted they were simply busy with the battle, of course they couldn’t just comm in to report while fighting an enemy, but the other part of him frantically flailed and panicked around at the lack of any communication.
“Ratch, come on, just let me in there, I swear I’ll go light.”
Bulkhead certainly wasn’t helping. The tall mech sat next to the console, frustration and worry echoing through his frame as he itched to jump into the fray, the tension only serving to increase Ratchet’s own concern.
“Bulkhead,” Ratchet vented out angrily, “how many times do I have to repeat that you are going absolutely nowhere? You must rest or your frame will never recover.”
“I know, but-” Bulkhead shook his helm. “What if something happens and I could’ve prevented it?”
“I think you’re overestimating yourself,” Ratchet scoffed but softened his tone at Bulkhead’s dejected slump. “What I’m trying to say is that they can handle themselves. The best support you can provide to the team is resting and healing your overtaxed systems. You’re nearly fit to return to duty, but I want to be completely sure you are recovered.”
“Ratchet, do you copy?” came Arcee’s voice through the comm. Ratchet immediately turned his full attention to the monitor.
“Loud and clear, Arcee.”
“I need a ground bridge. The ‘Cons are retreating. We’re all okay but Optimus is hurt.” Ratchet’s spark sank at her poorly concealed worry and ragged venting.
“Locking in to your location,” he replied and hastily punched in the coordinates of Arcee’s signature, bringing a gust of wind into the base with the opening of the bridge. Without pause he ran through to find himself in a rocky valley, Arcee holding her blue-stained servos to a wound on Optimus’ chassis. At the sight of the medic, Arcee vented out with relief and Optimus’ frame untensed minutely.
“Thank Primus, Ratchet. Soundwave snuck up on us, he got some shots on Optimus.”
“Soundwave?” Ratchet crouched down next to Arcee to examine Optimus. “Well, it’s a good thing this is the extent of your injuries if that was the case.”
Arcee frowned. “He got distracted by Smokescreen running circles around him. Reckless idiot, he doesn’t understand how dangerous that mech is.”
Ratchet glanced around him. “Where are the others?”
“Where’s Smokescreen?” As if on cue, Bumblebee approached from behind Ratchet. Arcee stood from her spot next to Optimus.
“What do you mean? Is he not over there?”
“No- I thought he came over to you guys!”
Ratchet turned his attention back to Optimus while the other two figured out where Smokescreen was hiding. “Come on, Optimus, let’s get you back to base.”
“Ratchet, I am fine. Bumblebee was hurt as well, you must-”
“Ehp ep ep, you stop that right now. You’re hurt and you know it. Can you walk?”
Optimus nodded. Ratchet swung Optimus’ arm over his shoulders and carefully guided him to stand. Within the first few steps the tall mech’s optics flickered and he swayed, leaning into Ratchet, but continued to walk with resolve through the bridge.
“Stubborn aft. The only reason I’m not carrying you is because you’re bigger than me,” Ratchet grumbled and Optimus let out an amused ex-vent. Bulkhead’s concerned field washed over Ratchet as he and Optimus entered the base. Bulkhead was watching the monitor but turned at the sound of pedesteps.
“Uh, Ratchet,” Bulkhead called out as Ratchet helped Optimus lay down on a berth. “I think something’s up with the monitor.”
“Why is that, Bulkhead?” Ratchet groaned inwardly at the thought of more fried circuitry for him to repair. This technology couldn’t go two days without shorting out.
“It’s not showing Smokescreen’s signature.”
Dread swept through Ratchet. He paused as he reached for the welder and clamps to the side of the berth. “What do you mean? His comm signal’s out?”
“No, the dot on the map is gone.” Bulkhead shuffled on his pedes. “That’s gotta be the monitor, right? Arcee said Smokescreen was fine.”
Ratchet hastily worked to weld Optimus’ broken lines as the Prime looked over at Bulkhead with worry in his field. Ratchet heard more pedesteps appear through the bridge.
“Hi, Bulkhead, did Smokescreen come back here already?” Bumblebee chirped behind Ratchet.
“No, isn’t he out there with you guys?” Bulkhead’s voice filled with worry. “Arcee, you said everyone was fine.”
“I- I guess I assumed, the ‘Cons were pretty much gone and I was focused on Optimus,” Arcee said. “Bumblebee and Smokescreen were with each other, I thought they would be okay together-”
“I got knocked away, but I did see Smokescreen with Soundwave,” Bumblebee chirped anxiously. “I think Soundwave was trying to retreat and Smokescreen was pursuing-”
“That fragging idiot!” Ratchet growled as he welded Optimus’ shoulder. “Why in the Allspark did no one stop him from going after Soundwave alone?!”
“The thing is, I don’t know what happened, I got thrown into a crevice or something and didn’t have a visual.” Bumblebee anxiously glanced around at all the mechs watching him. “My pede was hurt, by the time I made it over there no one was there, so I assumed Smokescreen had returned to you guys.”
While Bumblebee was talking, Ratchet quickly finished patched up Optimus, scrubbed his servos clean of energon, and rushed over to the monitor, pushing through the small congregation that had accumulated around it.
“Go sit on the berth if your pede is hurt,” Ratchet barked at Bumblebee as he enlarged the map. The console map translated the unique field vibration and frequency of Cybertronians and displayed them as signatures, or dots. Ratchet searched the map display of the coordinates to where the bridge was connected to (somewhere in Montana), but no signatures were showing up. He punched in a request to ping any signatures in a fifty-mile radius of the bridge, even though he knew the signature should ping from anywhere in the world even without the extra search. Nothing. He clicked back to the base’s location, searching for any errant signatures away from the group clustered in the middle. Nothing yet again. Smokescreen’s signature reading and comm signal to the side showed up dark as well. Ratchet shook his helm slowly, trying to keep his field contained to not let the others feel his overwhelming dread. “I don’t see Smokescreen’s signature.”
“Okay, but could it just be the monitor?” Bulkhead asked nervously.
“...No, no, everything is working fine.”
“Ratchet, you said the signature only disappears if…” Bumblebee hesitated.
“It can be hidden by advanced cloaking mechanisms,” Ratchet said as calmly as he could. “Soundwave may have taken Smokescreen back to the Nemesis and the console isn’t picking his signature up because of that. Besides, you didn’t find his frame, did you?”
Arcee and Bumblebee shook their heads. “We checked the entire area,” Arcee said.
“See? Nothing to worry about, the kid’s just gotten himself stuck with the ‘Cons.”
The tension around him dissipated slightly. Ratchet himself let out a small ex-vent. “We’ll just have to hope Smokescreen can keep himself in check until we’re able to reach the Nemesis somehow.”
“We will find a way to rescue Smokescreen.” Ratchet turned towards Optimus, who was still laying on the berth but had been observing the entire situation. “For now, let us rest and recover, then collect the energon once we have our strength back. The deposit will provide much-needed fuel for us.”
Ratchet nodded. “Come on, Bumblebee, you heard Optimus, go and get on the berth so I can fix your pede. Arcee, you too, chop chop.” The two grumbled and beeped good-naturedly about taking care of Optimus first but obeyed anyways. Ratchet busied himself with tending to their injuries, but Smokescreen wasn’t far from his mind. Ratchet was sure the young mech would be able to fend for himself; it was only a matter of if the team would be fast enough to help him before anything worse could happen.