Fic: A Universal Concept - Chapter 10
Title: A Universal Concept - Chapter 10
‘Verse: Post 2007 Movie
Rating: Mature for later chapters
Pairings: Jazz/Maggie Madsen, Ironhide/Sarah Lennox/Will Lennox, Prime/Ratchet, Bumblebee/Sam, Barricade/Mikaela
Summary: What is love? Is it an instinct? An emotion? Or an ability that can transcend species? After eons of conflict, the war-weary Autobots have a new home, a new life, and a chance for something more. And for a single Decepticon, a chance for salvation.
AU, based off of the 2007 Movie only, since I haven't read the books or comics.
Warnings: Mech/human sexual situations and mech slash in later chapters.
( Prologue )( Chapter One )( Chapter Two )( Chapter Three )( Chapter Four )( Chapter Five )( Chapter Six )( Chapter Seven )( Chapter Eight )( Chapter Nine )
A/N: To my betas, you are the best. Thank you!
~*~*~*~* Scene breaks
***** Denotes breaks within a scene
-------------------
~ Chapter 10 ~
Post-Meeting, Rec Room, Same Day
"Well. As staff meetings go, that was more exciting than it had any right to be."
"Indeed," Prime agreed, noting the weary tread and dulled armor as Ironhide followed after Sarah. "He doesn't look well, Ratchet."
"No, he doesn't." The medic shook his helm. "I would say removing him is the best option, but the child has developed a strong attachment to him. Ironhide would certainly resist the suggestion."
"With extreme prejudice, I would imagine," Prime added dryly.
Ratchet's huff was amused and exasperated. "Undoubtedly. At least for now we have the child, and Sarah, to thank for keeping him in line. He won't risk upsetting them." The medic finished off his energon, but remained sitting, fingerpads lightly tapping on the cube. An old habit of the medic's when he was formulating a plan, and Prime hid a fond smile, optics glowing softly as he watched his friend.
Fingerpads left off tapping and Ratchet made a dissatisfied sound, decision reached but one he wasn't happy with. "I'll check Sarah and Annabelle, but I'm not sure what else I can do for Ironhide. Sarah, I believe, is ignorant of the whole situation. I doubt very much Ironhide will be enlightening her anytime soon."
"That is a large part of the problem. He won't because he shouldn't have to."
"Agreed, and with one of our own, he wouldn't need to. Captain Lennox had a compelling reason to accept him as Guardian, Sarah does not. I believe a talk with her may be in order, but Ironhide is not a talker at the best of times." Ratchet's vents blew a frustrated whoosh of air.
"Jazz, perhaps?" Prime suggested. "I would volunteer, but I'm afraid she still finds me intimidating."
The medic waved him off, dispersing his cube and getting to his feet. "I'll do it. Ironhide can watch over Annabelle, I'll check Sarah last."
Prime nodded agreement and dispersed his own empty cube, moving to stand next to him. Ratchet's field prickled with awareness.
"Meet me on the target range later?" Optimus murmured, the sudden intimate brush of his energy field indicating that this invite had nothing to do with target practice.
"I can-" he began, the agreement springing up without thought, and his field was already extending in response when he was suddenly transfixed by one of those prescient moments out of time. Agree to this, and be trapped again, and how long had it taken to free himself last time? Nothing had changed, nothing would change, as long as things remained the same.
That peculiar feeling of time held suspended while Ratchet wavered on the edge of choice and change. From one fraction of a nanoclick to the next, and then he was free from the moment. He only just caught himself, snapping his field back so abruptly he was surprised there wasn't an audible crack of static, and it was with a sinking feeling that Ratchet chose the path he knew in his spark was likely to bring the most grief.
He didn't have to feign regret when he looked up at Optimus and refused his advance.
"...can't," he finished, more calmly than he felt, and inclined his head to Mikaela, trying to distract the wailing Annabelle. "She wants extra lessons. I promised my time to her tonight."
Optimus accepted the excuse without question, also regretful, and left for his office with Jazz close behind. Ratchet watched him go, experiencing a moment of deja vu so intense it was startling, and consoled himself that he had at least offered a valid excuse. For tonight.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"I'll take Annabelle first, please."
The medic stared as his directive was followed by confused milling. Mikaela was hovering, ready to assist, and reached for Annabelle, which flustered Sarah, who was about to hand her to Ironhide. Annabelle wanted nothing to do with Mikaela and proceeded to whimper and tear up and reach for Ironhide. Mikaela's efforts were met with an annoyed huff from Ironhide, and she scooted away like a startled rabbit. The weapons specialist glared at her before stooping down to retrieve Annabelle out of Sarah's arms and began soothing the little femme. Mikaela drifted back to stand near Sarah, which promptly earned her another death glare from Ironhide.
The sigh from Ratchet's vents was long-suffering.
::Ironhide, get your stubborn aft over here, and try to refrain from killing my student with your optics.::
::Then tell the slagging femme to stop interfering!::
Irascible, irritable, bristling with annoyance through the comm, yet so remarkably gentle with the tiny being he now held in his hands, and the tones Ironhide soothed her with carried not a hint of ill-temper.
Deterrent, indeed. Ratchet sent a curt acknowledgement to the black mech, and silent thanks to whoever had first initiated Guardian coding. He watched a frown settle over Mikaela's face as he issued instructions through her headset.
"Ratchet, I just did that-"
Another glare and huff from Ironhide stopped her in mid-protest. Mikaela prudently decided it was better to remove herself from the vicinity of the annoyed black mech, but not without a parting shot for the medic.
"Fine, I'll do another inventory. Again. "
Ratchet's mouthplates twitched. "Go. I promise an exciting new lesson later."
With Mikaela out of the way of Ironhide's wrath, Ratchet turned to Annabelle, examining her as she sucked a tiny digit and blinked sleepily from her seat in Ironhide's hands. The child was in perfect health, and there was really nothing more he could say or do for Ironhide as he scanned the weapons specialist, other than to caution him about getting enough fuel and recharge. The large black mech only grunted at that, and frowned when the medic requested he leave and let him examine Sarah alone.
"Your fuel levels are low again. Go get some energon and take Annabelle with you, I'll comm you when I've finished," Ratchet urged, and Ironhide reluctantly grumbled an agreement, sparing a glance and a quiet word for Sarah before leaving the medbay.
Without Ironhide's constant presence and Annabelle in her arms, Sarah appeared vulnerable and lost, and seemed to feel it too. The medic knelt down, beginning his first set of scans on the small femme before him. She was not quite tucked into the corner by the door, but in far enough, with her arms crossed in front of her and her back to the wall, watching him as he worked. A frown creased her brow. She glanced to the door several times, anxious to leave, and the medic realized she might have an idea that there was some purpose to his sudden change in their routine order of examinations.
"I'm fine, Ratchet. Can I go now?"
The medic raised an optic ridge. "You are about as 'fine' as Ironhide is, Sarah, and that is to say, far from it."
A look of surprise crossed her face, followed by several others that flitted rapidly. Worry primarily, followed by dismay, a touch of panic, perhaps fear. Ratchet tilted his helm trying to decipher them until Sarah looked down, hiding her expression, only her tone giving away any of what she was feeling. Tight, higher pitched than usual, with a wavering edge that hinted at her distress.
"Is it true, what Mikaela said, that Prime will remove him as my Guardian?"
Ratchet continued his scans. "He's not your Guardian, femme. He's ready to be, but you are not, it seems. Without your agreement, he can do nothing, and Prime will remove him, rather than watch him continue to fight a losing battle."
"So this is all just- what, programming he's locked into? He's stuck in a loop? And 'Guardian', I think bodyguard, secret service, police, a giant alarm system for my house who happens to be wonderful with my daughter... hell, I don't know what to think anymore, about any of this."
Sarah floundered and gave up and Ratchet watched her arms tighten, a few alerts pinging on his scanners once more, the frustration in her voice perfectly clear.
That she was making an effort to understand was to her credit, but the sheer ignorance of the statements had the medic huffing softly. "Don't underestimate 'programming,' femme. Just because you cannot see the wiring and circuitry doesn't mean your species does not follow its own type of programming. Your scientists are just beginning to map out all the different ways it influences you.
"As protoforms we immediately look for camouflage, our alt-mode. Our young ones, those newly sparked, will instinctively seek out a Guardian. So will injured mechs. Guardians will offer their care and protection. It's what we are programmed to do, but we are more than the sum of our parts and programming. We go far beyond that. We have a choice, always."
The femme was listening intently now, stress levels dropping, and Ratchet had to mentally shake his helm, silently vowing to rewire the weapons specialist's mouthplates to get him to say more than three words at a time to her. He continued the impromptu lesson, beginning the last of his scans.
"Ironhide is a Guardian, not a watchdog, not some glorified babysitter. That means he will care for you, he will always put your needs above his own, even at the risk of his own life. But he chooses to do this, he is not compelled by blind instincts and programming. He sees something in you, an alien, that is worth his effort and protection. And he is stubborn enough to stay with you, even when you don't accept him. Prime, however, sees things otherwise."
A spike of adrenaline pinged on his scanners, Sarah's heart rate increased, and Ratchet hummed lightly in reassurance, noting the increased tension in her frame.
“What he wants is to be your Guardian. It's an important role, one Ironhide does not take lightly. Absent other Decepticons to fight, this is his priority now. Let him be that. Let him help you. He has systems and programming partially engaged, ready and waiting, and you shutting him out throws it all out of synch. We’re adaptable, but this is a constant stressor that he's not prepared to deal with for very long. If you can't accept him, Prime will remove him.”
Stated bluntly, but as kindly as he could, and Sarah was quiet for so long, Ratchet thought the conversation was over. He was finishing the last scans when she spoke again.
“I don’t know what he wants from me.”
Ratchet paused to look at her.
"You are both making this more difficult than it needs to be. Nevertheless, he's waiting on you. This is your choice, Sarah, stay or go, you decide, but tell Ironhide something. This has gone on long enough. If you can't make a decision, then Prime will make it for you."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The Rec Room was empty, save for two occupants, one large and reclining on the floor, the other small and curled up on a couch. They were both currently ignoring the movie that played out on the large mounted wall screen.
"I'd like to go along with you." Maggie's half-request was met by a regretful negative from Jazz.
"Someone's gotta be here ta monitor."
Jazz hid a smile at the disappointed pout and attempted to soothe with her favorite hobby. "And ta keep pokin' holes in 'Hide's security while I'm gone."
"Already on it." Maggie's grin was pure mischief and Jazz smirked in return.
"Great. Wanna finish the movie now?"
"Sure."
The movie was good, it really was, but Maggie stirred restlessly, unable to focus. She kept looking at Jazz, sitting on the floor right next to the couch, and so much more interesting than any movie could ever be. After two weeks of spending every night together, she still couldn't say she knew anything more about him, and other than some casual contact, he never touched her.
Teeth worried at a bottom lip and Maggie finally reached out and prodded his armor.
Mouthplates quirked in a smile, and Jazz's helm tilted down to watch as the small femme poked tentatively at a plate.
“Ouch.”
“Oh! I didn’t realize you could feel that!”
Maggie's surprise was comical and Jazz’s frame shook with a laugh. “Sure I can.” His visor shaded to a deep blue as he looked at her. “I’ll be able ta feel your slightest touch, everything ya do ta me.”
Jazz watched her face bloom into a riot of color as she blushed furiously. The large silver Autobot vibrated a tune, a crooning song, and she cocked her head at the sound of deep humming.
“Is that a language? What does it mean?”
"It's our most complete form of communication. That sound's how we offer comfort and reassurance, encouragement if it's needed. Other things, too. It kinda depends on the situation."
"Is that something I could learn?"
Jazz's smile was teasing. "What, right now? Instead of watchin' the movie?"
Maggie wrinkled her nose. "The movie's boring. I'd rather learn about you, and I thought that was the point of me being here." She laid a hand on the armored plating of his arm. "Jazz, talk to me. I don't know a thing about you, and it's going to be weird and hard enough when we do... umm- whatever it is we're going to do...."
She blew out an impatient breath and ran a hand through her hair, tucking stray wisps behind her ear. "What are we doing and when do we start?”
Ahh. One of those blunt statements she was so good at making. She'd made several of them over the last few weeks, and they never failed to take him by surprise, but this time Jazz was prepared.
"Are ya sayin' you're ready for me, Maggie? Right here and now?" Even sitting next to the small couch, he was still taller by several feet. He leaned forward, closer to her, and watched for the telltale flinch. Her body language would speak volumes, whether she realized it or not.
Jazz loomed, a ton of metal hovering over her, and Maggie stared up at alien features and an unreadable silver visor, unable to keep from shrinking away. "...N-no. I'm not ready yet." She hesitated only a moment before deciding that honesty was the only way her curiosity was ever going to be satisfied, even if it killed the cat while doing so.
"And stop intimidating me, please. All I'm asking for is information. I just want to know what's going on."
Jazz eased back, his visor finally coming alive with a shading of soft blue hues. "I'm not tryin' ta intimidate ya, but you're scared anyway, and that's my point. There's more than one reason we're goin' slow, and I'm askin' ya ta trust me on that."
Then Maggie surprised him again, a small brow arching up with a look that warned him he was caught. "More than one reason? Are you saying you're not ready either, Jazz?"
Slag, the femme was sharp, he had to give her that. Jazz barely restrained his own urge to pull away when she boldly reached out to place her small hand over the Autobot sigil on his chest plates.
"Please, Jazz. Don't leave me in the dark on this. I want to know."
She was still uncertain, he read that well enough in the small waver of her voice, but her eyes were determined, and Jazz was beginning to realize that this femme wasn't going to be happy waiting around with no explanations at all.
Maggie was looking for some kind of comfort zone where there was almost none to be had, and her request was legitimate, even if it had him shying away and ready to melt back into the shadows, unnoticed and unmarked like a good saboteur.
He had Ratchet's latest irate comments rolling around in his processors, too. She has questions and you're not talking. I know that's practically your job description, but she's not a science project, and you cannot disregard her feelings in this. Now start talking before I bolt you down, hand her a laser scalpel, and show her where to start cutting!
The medic was unusually touchy lately, and the warning was incentive enough to do what Maggie was asking, as was the insistence of his AI that he stay close to her for at least another hour.
Jazz finally raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, ya got me. I'm not ready either," and grinned at Maggie's cat with the cream smile. "So, before Ratch tears me a new one, or shows you how ta do it, here's what's goin' on."
Two holograms flickered and formed in front of the couch and Jazz pointed to them. "Ya know those scans Ratchet runs on us every day? Watch this now."
Featureless and black, but the size and shapes were clear. The large figure was Jazz, the small one, Maggie. As she watched, a light appeared around each of them, like an aura or halo, a bright blue glow around Jazz, and a dimmer white haze around her image.
"Those are energy fields. You have one, I have one, and everythin' starts with them. We need ta get ours hooked up and meshed together before we go further, and that's what's happenin' right now. The doc is helpin' oversee that."
Maggie glanced up. "It's not an automatic process?"
Jazz hummed pleasure. Sharp, intelligent, a quick grasp of the facts and able to extrapolate beyond them, he'd be hard pressed to find someone more suitable. "It is and it isn't. My field comes from spark energy, your field is bioenergy. I can control my field, extend it and get it ta do things with yours. You can't, so I'm doin' what I can ta compensate and if all goes ta plan, we get a good synch goin' and you'll be able ta feel what I do ta ya, with ya, everythin', and then it becomes automatic."
"So- it's not just touching? There's more to this?" Maggie's gaze was excited, frankly assessing and openly admiring, and Jazz was treated to a thorough once-over. It elicited a purr from the silver Autobot and a flare of armor plates that gleamed and caught the light in vivid display.
"Trust me, there's a lot more ta all this."
Maggie laughed. "That was a preen if I've ever seen one. You're preening, Jazz."
Jazz's visor flickered in a wink, mouthplates curving into that secretive smile she loved.
"Someone looks at me like you just did, Maggs, and ya better believe I'm gonna preen."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sarah's Journal
May
I'm an Army brat, from a long line of Army brats. My dad always told me I had steel bred into my spine. I've always been strong and capable and never needed to lean on anyone to handle just about any damn thing life threw at me. I don't know what happened, but I don't feel like that anymore. I just feel tired and weak and I hurt and I can't stop hurting.
Will's gone. I don't know if he'll be back. I found out today that Ironhide might be leaving too and now
Sarah's eyes squeezed shut against the overwhelming sense of panic. She trembled, struggling to draw in air, the sensation of drowning a heavy pressure on her chest. She was losing herself bit by bit, pieces being shredded away by too much change, too much loss, trying to go on without Will, utterly alone and nowhere to turn. The knowledge was like a small desperate voice that never stopped. It haunted her dreams and ran through every waking moment.
Please, no more. I've lost so much already. I can't stand to lose anything else, not one more thing. I just can't.
Her fingers slipped off the keyboard at the ping of an email alert. It was from Will, the first she'd heard from him in the two weeks since deploying, and Sarah snatched for it like a lifeline. Maybe he changed his mind, maybe he wanted them to come join him, maybe he still...
The hopeful maybe's died away as she read about the half-finished Base and Will's new command, training teams for the next mission, too much paperwork and the hellish heat, and that he was about to 'fall off the grid', his code to her for being out of touch and not to worry. It was only at the end that his note touched on the personal.
Gotta run, but do me a favor? I managed to leave my scarf behind. If you find it, send it to me. That thing's been with me so long it's like a rabbit's foot. And go talk to Ironhide for me, babe, and tell him thanks again for the help. Give Anna a hug and kiss for me. Love you, miss you both.
Will
The sentiment was perfunctory, it felt like an afterthought.
The part about Ironhide did not.
Sarah stared unseeing at the screen for a moment, before turning her head to look out the window at the night beyond, and the deeper patch of darkness near the large tree. What help had he given Will? How?
Her hand lifted to touch the green and black patterned scarf wrapped around her neck. It was wrinkled and worn in spots, still carrying the smells of dust, suntan lotion, aftershave, and an odor that was simply Will.
Sarah's fingers smoothed the fabric, caressing it gently, comforted by the scents and softness. The one thing she was sure of in all this, Will was not getting his scarf back.
***************
She thought at first he was asleep, Ironhide sat so still, his optics dimmed almost to black, until she was close enough to reach out and touch the armor of his leg. Then the great helm tilted and those dimly lit optics brightened as he looked down at her. One optic ridge lifted in silent query, and Sarah swallowed and looked away, uncertain of herself without Annabelle in her arms.
The giant mech before her stirred with a creak of shifting metal, leaning close and uttering a quiet question.
"Is there something you needed?"
I need to know, will you leave, will you stay, is Prime making you go, what do you want from me-
Sarah took a deep breath, trying to calm the wild tumble of thoughts. Will, start with Will.
"Will wanted me to talk to you. He said to tell you, thanks for your help."
There was a whirring sound from Ironhide as he inclined his head.
"Tell him to come back safely. That will be thanks enough."
"He said he's about to go on a mission. He'll be out of touch for at least a week or more, but I'll let him know." Sarah blinked away the sting of tears. "I- I always worry about him the most when I can't talk to him or hear from him."
"Understandable. But he is strong, a good soldier. I will make it a point to keep track of him, if that eases your fears."
"Please? That would help, very much."
"Certainly."
Ironhide shifted closer. "Is there something more you wanted?"
Here it was, her chance to question him, and Sarah took another deep breath, Ratchet's warning clear in her mind.
"Mikaela told me Prime might remove you. So did Ratchet. Is it true?"
"It is a possibility. It is also what Prime thinks I need. I'm more interested in what you need."
Sarah started to deny she needed anything at all and then gave up, a small tired sound escaping instead.
Ironhide waited, but when she remained silent, he took a different approach. "It's difficult to be separated from a mate," he remarked. "You have my sympathies, femme, but I can give you that without being your Guardian. So let me rephrase, what do you need from me, Sarah Lennox?"
"I don't need your help or your pity, and I don't need coddling," she snapped, flaring up at him like a small nova.
"If you had come to me for that, I would have told you to look elsewhere." Ironhide's tone was faintly amused, but he hummed approval. "I will offer none of those things, but even the strongest among us needs help at times. Someone to be strong when we're in pain and at our weakest, someone to remind us that we don't have to fight alone. Is your species any different?"
His words awoke that sharp ache in her chest, so unexpected that Sarah flinched and gasped, her hand rising to press against it in a useless attempt to soothe the pain.
Annabelle needs you, I need- Don't leave me alone...please, don't leave...
Ironhide made no move, only watched her with optics intense and deeply blue against dark metal. He felt he already had the Captain's measure, strong, brave, determined. Whatever their present difficulties, there was a reason William Lennox had claimed this femme as his mate, of that Ironhide had no doubts, just as the image of Sarah stubbornly challenging him to protect her child was one that refused to leave his processors.
"What do you need from me, Sarah?"
Ironhide leaned down, so close that she should be scared, terrified even, but she wasn't. A feeling of infinite patience was in his very stance. He was waiting for her. He would wait forever if he had to, and in his look the promise of someone to lean on, someone to lend their strength when she couldn't find her own. She didn't have to go on pretending to be strong while she slowly unraveled and fell apart inside.
Sarah found her gaze drawn again to that prominent scarring, clearly visible by the glow from his optics. He was alien, and they could not be more different, but if she knew nothing else about him, she knew from those scars that Ironhide had been wounded, and that he knew pain, and he would never, ever, judge her weak for the pain she was in now.
Sarah looked up at Ironhide. The slow run of tears felt hot on her cheeks.
"I - I need your promise, that you won't leave us."
"Accept me as your Guardian, and nothing in this universe will take me from you."
His voice was a low quiet rumble, but all the weight of an unbreakable oath was in his words, the promise of an ancient strength that would never falter or compromise or yield. He would go through hell and beyond and still never stop fighting for those he guarded. For Will, for Annabelle. For her.
Blinded by tears, all she could manage was a whispered, "Yes" before reaching out with shaking hands, and felt metal plates beneath her fingers as something wrapped closely around her.
Ironhide.
Sarah rested her head against him, sobbing out her relief against a large metal hand that was impossibly warm, comforting and safe.
tbc
~~~~
( Table of Contents )
‘Verse: Post 2007 Movie
Rating: Mature for later chapters
Pairings: Jazz/Maggie Madsen, Ironhide/Sarah Lennox/Will Lennox, Prime/Ratchet, Bumblebee/Sam, Barricade/Mikaela
Summary: What is love? Is it an instinct? An emotion? Or an ability that can transcend species? After eons of conflict, the war-weary Autobots have a new home, a new life, and a chance for something more. And for a single Decepticon, a chance for salvation.
AU, based off of the 2007 Movie only, since I haven't read the books or comics.
Warnings: Mech/human sexual situations and mech slash in later chapters.
( Prologue )( Chapter One )( Chapter Two )( Chapter Three )( Chapter Four )( Chapter Five )( Chapter Six )( Chapter Seven )( Chapter Eight )( Chapter Nine )
A/N: To my betas, you are the best. Thank you!
~*~*~*~* Scene breaks
***** Denotes breaks within a scene
-------------------
~ Chapter 10 ~
Post-Meeting, Rec Room, Same Day
"Well. As staff meetings go, that was more exciting than it had any right to be."
"Indeed," Prime agreed, noting the weary tread and dulled armor as Ironhide followed after Sarah. "He doesn't look well, Ratchet."
"No, he doesn't." The medic shook his helm. "I would say removing him is the best option, but the child has developed a strong attachment to him. Ironhide would certainly resist the suggestion."
"With extreme prejudice, I would imagine," Prime added dryly.
Ratchet's huff was amused and exasperated. "Undoubtedly. At least for now we have the child, and Sarah, to thank for keeping him in line. He won't risk upsetting them." The medic finished off his energon, but remained sitting, fingerpads lightly tapping on the cube. An old habit of the medic's when he was formulating a plan, and Prime hid a fond smile, optics glowing softly as he watched his friend.
Fingerpads left off tapping and Ratchet made a dissatisfied sound, decision reached but one he wasn't happy with. "I'll check Sarah and Annabelle, but I'm not sure what else I can do for Ironhide. Sarah, I believe, is ignorant of the whole situation. I doubt very much Ironhide will be enlightening her anytime soon."
"That is a large part of the problem. He won't because he shouldn't have to."
"Agreed, and with one of our own, he wouldn't need to. Captain Lennox had a compelling reason to accept him as Guardian, Sarah does not. I believe a talk with her may be in order, but Ironhide is not a talker at the best of times." Ratchet's vents blew a frustrated whoosh of air.
"Jazz, perhaps?" Prime suggested. "I would volunteer, but I'm afraid she still finds me intimidating."
The medic waved him off, dispersing his cube and getting to his feet. "I'll do it. Ironhide can watch over Annabelle, I'll check Sarah last."
Prime nodded agreement and dispersed his own empty cube, moving to stand next to him. Ratchet's field prickled with awareness.
"Meet me on the target range later?" Optimus murmured, the sudden intimate brush of his energy field indicating that this invite had nothing to do with target practice.
"I can-" he began, the agreement springing up without thought, and his field was already extending in response when he was suddenly transfixed by one of those prescient moments out of time. Agree to this, and be trapped again, and how long had it taken to free himself last time? Nothing had changed, nothing would change, as long as things remained the same.
That peculiar feeling of time held suspended while Ratchet wavered on the edge of choice and change. From one fraction of a nanoclick to the next, and then he was free from the moment. He only just caught himself, snapping his field back so abruptly he was surprised there wasn't an audible crack of static, and it was with a sinking feeling that Ratchet chose the path he knew in his spark was likely to bring the most grief.
He didn't have to feign regret when he looked up at Optimus and refused his advance.
"...can't," he finished, more calmly than he felt, and inclined his head to Mikaela, trying to distract the wailing Annabelle. "She wants extra lessons. I promised my time to her tonight."
Optimus accepted the excuse without question, also regretful, and left for his office with Jazz close behind. Ratchet watched him go, experiencing a moment of deja vu so intense it was startling, and consoled himself that he had at least offered a valid excuse. For tonight.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"I'll take Annabelle first, please."
The medic stared as his directive was followed by confused milling. Mikaela was hovering, ready to assist, and reached for Annabelle, which flustered Sarah, who was about to hand her to Ironhide. Annabelle wanted nothing to do with Mikaela and proceeded to whimper and tear up and reach for Ironhide. Mikaela's efforts were met with an annoyed huff from Ironhide, and she scooted away like a startled rabbit. The weapons specialist glared at her before stooping down to retrieve Annabelle out of Sarah's arms and began soothing the little femme. Mikaela drifted back to stand near Sarah, which promptly earned her another death glare from Ironhide.
The sigh from Ratchet's vents was long-suffering.
::Ironhide, get your stubborn aft over here, and try to refrain from killing my student with your optics.::
::Then tell the slagging femme to stop interfering!::
Irascible, irritable, bristling with annoyance through the comm, yet so remarkably gentle with the tiny being he now held in his hands, and the tones Ironhide soothed her with carried not a hint of ill-temper.
Deterrent, indeed. Ratchet sent a curt acknowledgement to the black mech, and silent thanks to whoever had first initiated Guardian coding. He watched a frown settle over Mikaela's face as he issued instructions through her headset.
"Ratchet, I just did that-"
Another glare and huff from Ironhide stopped her in mid-protest. Mikaela prudently decided it was better to remove herself from the vicinity of the annoyed black mech, but not without a parting shot for the medic.
"Fine, I'll do another inventory. Again. "
Ratchet's mouthplates twitched. "Go. I promise an exciting new lesson later."
With Mikaela out of the way of Ironhide's wrath, Ratchet turned to Annabelle, examining her as she sucked a tiny digit and blinked sleepily from her seat in Ironhide's hands. The child was in perfect health, and there was really nothing more he could say or do for Ironhide as he scanned the weapons specialist, other than to caution him about getting enough fuel and recharge. The large black mech only grunted at that, and frowned when the medic requested he leave and let him examine Sarah alone.
"Your fuel levels are low again. Go get some energon and take Annabelle with you, I'll comm you when I've finished," Ratchet urged, and Ironhide reluctantly grumbled an agreement, sparing a glance and a quiet word for Sarah before leaving the medbay.
Without Ironhide's constant presence and Annabelle in her arms, Sarah appeared vulnerable and lost, and seemed to feel it too. The medic knelt down, beginning his first set of scans on the small femme before him. She was not quite tucked into the corner by the door, but in far enough, with her arms crossed in front of her and her back to the wall, watching him as he worked. A frown creased her brow. She glanced to the door several times, anxious to leave, and the medic realized she might have an idea that there was some purpose to his sudden change in their routine order of examinations.
"I'm fine, Ratchet. Can I go now?"
The medic raised an optic ridge. "You are about as 'fine' as Ironhide is, Sarah, and that is to say, far from it."
A look of surprise crossed her face, followed by several others that flitted rapidly. Worry primarily, followed by dismay, a touch of panic, perhaps fear. Ratchet tilted his helm trying to decipher them until Sarah looked down, hiding her expression, only her tone giving away any of what she was feeling. Tight, higher pitched than usual, with a wavering edge that hinted at her distress.
"Is it true, what Mikaela said, that Prime will remove him as my Guardian?"
Ratchet continued his scans. "He's not your Guardian, femme. He's ready to be, but you are not, it seems. Without your agreement, he can do nothing, and Prime will remove him, rather than watch him continue to fight a losing battle."
"So this is all just- what, programming he's locked into? He's stuck in a loop? And 'Guardian', I think bodyguard, secret service, police, a giant alarm system for my house who happens to be wonderful with my daughter... hell, I don't know what to think anymore, about any of this."
Sarah floundered and gave up and Ratchet watched her arms tighten, a few alerts pinging on his scanners once more, the frustration in her voice perfectly clear.
That she was making an effort to understand was to her credit, but the sheer ignorance of the statements had the medic huffing softly. "Don't underestimate 'programming,' femme. Just because you cannot see the wiring and circuitry doesn't mean your species does not follow its own type of programming. Your scientists are just beginning to map out all the different ways it influences you.
"As protoforms we immediately look for camouflage, our alt-mode. Our young ones, those newly sparked, will instinctively seek out a Guardian. So will injured mechs. Guardians will offer their care and protection. It's what we are programmed to do, but we are more than the sum of our parts and programming. We go far beyond that. We have a choice, always."
The femme was listening intently now, stress levels dropping, and Ratchet had to mentally shake his helm, silently vowing to rewire the weapons specialist's mouthplates to get him to say more than three words at a time to her. He continued the impromptu lesson, beginning the last of his scans.
"Ironhide is a Guardian, not a watchdog, not some glorified babysitter. That means he will care for you, he will always put your needs above his own, even at the risk of his own life. But he chooses to do this, he is not compelled by blind instincts and programming. He sees something in you, an alien, that is worth his effort and protection. And he is stubborn enough to stay with you, even when you don't accept him. Prime, however, sees things otherwise."
A spike of adrenaline pinged on his scanners, Sarah's heart rate increased, and Ratchet hummed lightly in reassurance, noting the increased tension in her frame.
“What he wants is to be your Guardian. It's an important role, one Ironhide does not take lightly. Absent other Decepticons to fight, this is his priority now. Let him be that. Let him help you. He has systems and programming partially engaged, ready and waiting, and you shutting him out throws it all out of synch. We’re adaptable, but this is a constant stressor that he's not prepared to deal with for very long. If you can't accept him, Prime will remove him.”
Stated bluntly, but as kindly as he could, and Sarah was quiet for so long, Ratchet thought the conversation was over. He was finishing the last scans when she spoke again.
“I don’t know what he wants from me.”
Ratchet paused to look at her.
"You are both making this more difficult than it needs to be. Nevertheless, he's waiting on you. This is your choice, Sarah, stay or go, you decide, but tell Ironhide something. This has gone on long enough. If you can't make a decision, then Prime will make it for you."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The Rec Room was empty, save for two occupants, one large and reclining on the floor, the other small and curled up on a couch. They were both currently ignoring the movie that played out on the large mounted wall screen.
"I'd like to go along with you." Maggie's half-request was met by a regretful negative from Jazz.
"Someone's gotta be here ta monitor."
Jazz hid a smile at the disappointed pout and attempted to soothe with her favorite hobby. "And ta keep pokin' holes in 'Hide's security while I'm gone."
"Already on it." Maggie's grin was pure mischief and Jazz smirked in return.
"Great. Wanna finish the movie now?"
"Sure."
The movie was good, it really was, but Maggie stirred restlessly, unable to focus. She kept looking at Jazz, sitting on the floor right next to the couch, and so much more interesting than any movie could ever be. After two weeks of spending every night together, she still couldn't say she knew anything more about him, and other than some casual contact, he never touched her.
Teeth worried at a bottom lip and Maggie finally reached out and prodded his armor.
Mouthplates quirked in a smile, and Jazz's helm tilted down to watch as the small femme poked tentatively at a plate.
“Ouch.”
“Oh! I didn’t realize you could feel that!”
Maggie's surprise was comical and Jazz’s frame shook with a laugh. “Sure I can.” His visor shaded to a deep blue as he looked at her. “I’ll be able ta feel your slightest touch, everything ya do ta me.”
Jazz watched her face bloom into a riot of color as she blushed furiously. The large silver Autobot vibrated a tune, a crooning song, and she cocked her head at the sound of deep humming.
“Is that a language? What does it mean?”
"It's our most complete form of communication. That sound's how we offer comfort and reassurance, encouragement if it's needed. Other things, too. It kinda depends on the situation."
"Is that something I could learn?"
Jazz's smile was teasing. "What, right now? Instead of watchin' the movie?"
Maggie wrinkled her nose. "The movie's boring. I'd rather learn about you, and I thought that was the point of me being here." She laid a hand on the armored plating of his arm. "Jazz, talk to me. I don't know a thing about you, and it's going to be weird and hard enough when we do... umm- whatever it is we're going to do...."
She blew out an impatient breath and ran a hand through her hair, tucking stray wisps behind her ear. "What are we doing and when do we start?”
Ahh. One of those blunt statements she was so good at making. She'd made several of them over the last few weeks, and they never failed to take him by surprise, but this time Jazz was prepared.
"Are ya sayin' you're ready for me, Maggie? Right here and now?" Even sitting next to the small couch, he was still taller by several feet. He leaned forward, closer to her, and watched for the telltale flinch. Her body language would speak volumes, whether she realized it or not.
Jazz loomed, a ton of metal hovering over her, and Maggie stared up at alien features and an unreadable silver visor, unable to keep from shrinking away. "...N-no. I'm not ready yet." She hesitated only a moment before deciding that honesty was the only way her curiosity was ever going to be satisfied, even if it killed the cat while doing so.
"And stop intimidating me, please. All I'm asking for is information. I just want to know what's going on."
Jazz eased back, his visor finally coming alive with a shading of soft blue hues. "I'm not tryin' ta intimidate ya, but you're scared anyway, and that's my point. There's more than one reason we're goin' slow, and I'm askin' ya ta trust me on that."
Then Maggie surprised him again, a small brow arching up with a look that warned him he was caught. "More than one reason? Are you saying you're not ready either, Jazz?"
Slag, the femme was sharp, he had to give her that. Jazz barely restrained his own urge to pull away when she boldly reached out to place her small hand over the Autobot sigil on his chest plates.
"Please, Jazz. Don't leave me in the dark on this. I want to know."
She was still uncertain, he read that well enough in the small waver of her voice, but her eyes were determined, and Jazz was beginning to realize that this femme wasn't going to be happy waiting around with no explanations at all.
Maggie was looking for some kind of comfort zone where there was almost none to be had, and her request was legitimate, even if it had him shying away and ready to melt back into the shadows, unnoticed and unmarked like a good saboteur.
He had Ratchet's latest irate comments rolling around in his processors, too. She has questions and you're not talking. I know that's practically your job description, but she's not a science project, and you cannot disregard her feelings in this. Now start talking before I bolt you down, hand her a laser scalpel, and show her where to start cutting!
The medic was unusually touchy lately, and the warning was incentive enough to do what Maggie was asking, as was the insistence of his AI that he stay close to her for at least another hour.
Jazz finally raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, ya got me. I'm not ready either," and grinned at Maggie's cat with the cream smile. "So, before Ratch tears me a new one, or shows you how ta do it, here's what's goin' on."
Two holograms flickered and formed in front of the couch and Jazz pointed to them. "Ya know those scans Ratchet runs on us every day? Watch this now."
Featureless and black, but the size and shapes were clear. The large figure was Jazz, the small one, Maggie. As she watched, a light appeared around each of them, like an aura or halo, a bright blue glow around Jazz, and a dimmer white haze around her image.
"Those are energy fields. You have one, I have one, and everythin' starts with them. We need ta get ours hooked up and meshed together before we go further, and that's what's happenin' right now. The doc is helpin' oversee that."
Maggie glanced up. "It's not an automatic process?"
Jazz hummed pleasure. Sharp, intelligent, a quick grasp of the facts and able to extrapolate beyond them, he'd be hard pressed to find someone more suitable. "It is and it isn't. My field comes from spark energy, your field is bioenergy. I can control my field, extend it and get it ta do things with yours. You can't, so I'm doin' what I can ta compensate and if all goes ta plan, we get a good synch goin' and you'll be able ta feel what I do ta ya, with ya, everythin', and then it becomes automatic."
"So- it's not just touching? There's more to this?" Maggie's gaze was excited, frankly assessing and openly admiring, and Jazz was treated to a thorough once-over. It elicited a purr from the silver Autobot and a flare of armor plates that gleamed and caught the light in vivid display.
"Trust me, there's a lot more ta all this."
Maggie laughed. "That was a preen if I've ever seen one. You're preening, Jazz."
Jazz's visor flickered in a wink, mouthplates curving into that secretive smile she loved.
"Someone looks at me like you just did, Maggs, and ya better believe I'm gonna preen."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sarah's Journal
May
I'm an Army brat, from a long line of Army brats. My dad always told me I had steel bred into my spine. I've always been strong and capable and never needed to lean on anyone to handle just about any damn thing life threw at me. I don't know what happened, but I don't feel like that anymore. I just feel tired and weak and I hurt and I can't stop hurting.
Will's gone. I don't know if he'll be back. I found out today that Ironhide might be leaving too and now
Sarah's eyes squeezed shut against the overwhelming sense of panic. She trembled, struggling to draw in air, the sensation of drowning a heavy pressure on her chest. She was losing herself bit by bit, pieces being shredded away by too much change, too much loss, trying to go on without Will, utterly alone and nowhere to turn. The knowledge was like a small desperate voice that never stopped. It haunted her dreams and ran through every waking moment.
Please, no more. I've lost so much already. I can't stand to lose anything else, not one more thing. I just can't.
Her fingers slipped off the keyboard at the ping of an email alert. It was from Will, the first she'd heard from him in the two weeks since deploying, and Sarah snatched for it like a lifeline. Maybe he changed his mind, maybe he wanted them to come join him, maybe he still...
The hopeful maybe's died away as she read about the half-finished Base and Will's new command, training teams for the next mission, too much paperwork and the hellish heat, and that he was about to 'fall off the grid', his code to her for being out of touch and not to worry. It was only at the end that his note touched on the personal.
Gotta run, but do me a favor? I managed to leave my scarf behind. If you find it, send it to me. That thing's been with me so long it's like a rabbit's foot. And go talk to Ironhide for me, babe, and tell him thanks again for the help. Give Anna a hug and kiss for me. Love you, miss you both.
Will
The sentiment was perfunctory, it felt like an afterthought.
The part about Ironhide did not.
Sarah stared unseeing at the screen for a moment, before turning her head to look out the window at the night beyond, and the deeper patch of darkness near the large tree. What help had he given Will? How?
Her hand lifted to touch the green and black patterned scarf wrapped around her neck. It was wrinkled and worn in spots, still carrying the smells of dust, suntan lotion, aftershave, and an odor that was simply Will.
Sarah's fingers smoothed the fabric, caressing it gently, comforted by the scents and softness. The one thing she was sure of in all this, Will was not getting his scarf back.
***************
She thought at first he was asleep, Ironhide sat so still, his optics dimmed almost to black, until she was close enough to reach out and touch the armor of his leg. Then the great helm tilted and those dimly lit optics brightened as he looked down at her. One optic ridge lifted in silent query, and Sarah swallowed and looked away, uncertain of herself without Annabelle in her arms.
The giant mech before her stirred with a creak of shifting metal, leaning close and uttering a quiet question.
"Is there something you needed?"
I need to know, will you leave, will you stay, is Prime making you go, what do you want from me-
Sarah took a deep breath, trying to calm the wild tumble of thoughts. Will, start with Will.
"Will wanted me to talk to you. He said to tell you, thanks for your help."
There was a whirring sound from Ironhide as he inclined his head.
"Tell him to come back safely. That will be thanks enough."
"He said he's about to go on a mission. He'll be out of touch for at least a week or more, but I'll let him know." Sarah blinked away the sting of tears. "I- I always worry about him the most when I can't talk to him or hear from him."
"Understandable. But he is strong, a good soldier. I will make it a point to keep track of him, if that eases your fears."
"Please? That would help, very much."
"Certainly."
Ironhide shifted closer. "Is there something more you wanted?"
Here it was, her chance to question him, and Sarah took another deep breath, Ratchet's warning clear in her mind.
"Mikaela told me Prime might remove you. So did Ratchet. Is it true?"
"It is a possibility. It is also what Prime thinks I need. I'm more interested in what you need."
Sarah started to deny she needed anything at all and then gave up, a small tired sound escaping instead.
Ironhide waited, but when she remained silent, he took a different approach. "It's difficult to be separated from a mate," he remarked. "You have my sympathies, femme, but I can give you that without being your Guardian. So let me rephrase, what do you need from me, Sarah Lennox?"
"I don't need your help or your pity, and I don't need coddling," she snapped, flaring up at him like a small nova.
"If you had come to me for that, I would have told you to look elsewhere." Ironhide's tone was faintly amused, but he hummed approval. "I will offer none of those things, but even the strongest among us needs help at times. Someone to be strong when we're in pain and at our weakest, someone to remind us that we don't have to fight alone. Is your species any different?"
His words awoke that sharp ache in her chest, so unexpected that Sarah flinched and gasped, her hand rising to press against it in a useless attempt to soothe the pain.
Annabelle needs you, I need- Don't leave me alone...please, don't leave...
Ironhide made no move, only watched her with optics intense and deeply blue against dark metal. He felt he already had the Captain's measure, strong, brave, determined. Whatever their present difficulties, there was a reason William Lennox had claimed this femme as his mate, of that Ironhide had no doubts, just as the image of Sarah stubbornly challenging him to protect her child was one that refused to leave his processors.
"What do you need from me, Sarah?"
Ironhide leaned down, so close that she should be scared, terrified even, but she wasn't. A feeling of infinite patience was in his very stance. He was waiting for her. He would wait forever if he had to, and in his look the promise of someone to lean on, someone to lend their strength when she couldn't find her own. She didn't have to go on pretending to be strong while she slowly unraveled and fell apart inside.
Sarah found her gaze drawn again to that prominent scarring, clearly visible by the glow from his optics. He was alien, and they could not be more different, but if she knew nothing else about him, she knew from those scars that Ironhide had been wounded, and that he knew pain, and he would never, ever, judge her weak for the pain she was in now.
Sarah looked up at Ironhide. The slow run of tears felt hot on her cheeks.
"I - I need your promise, that you won't leave us."
"Accept me as your Guardian, and nothing in this universe will take me from you."
His voice was a low quiet rumble, but all the weight of an unbreakable oath was in his words, the promise of an ancient strength that would never falter or compromise or yield. He would go through hell and beyond and still never stop fighting for those he guarded. For Will, for Annabelle. For her.
Blinded by tears, all she could manage was a whispered, "Yes" before reaching out with shaking hands, and felt metal plates beneath her fingers as something wrapped closely around her.
Ironhide.
Sarah rested her head against him, sobbing out her relief against a large metal hand that was impossibly warm, comforting and safe.
tbc
~~~~
( Table of Contents )