Nightstrike/Blizzard's reality and the Nexus. 'Nemesis' and the Black Dog bar. Wishes and dreams.
One would think that vorns of laying in stasis would leave one rested, but Blizzard groaned softly and rested one hand against an icy wall as she wandered down the Nemesis' recently wakened halls in search of a place to curl up and recharge where no one would step on her. She would have selected one of the repair tables in the medbay, except that Hook was being officious as he repaired Megatron's new mate and had evicted everyone but himself, the femme, and her anxious and pretending not to be lord and master. It seemed that the femme, Nightstrike, had taken heavy damage from Optimus Prime's forces during the last assault against The Fallen.
Who, surprisingly, had fallen.
Blizzard clamped down on a giddy and rest-deprived snerk at her mental joke, then sighed deeply as she spotted a dark cubical yawning open. Someone's office maybe, in times past. It would be hers now. And it even, she found, had a door lock that still worked. Soon she was stretched out on the dented desktop, her optics unseeing as they stared up at the ceiling.
Megatron had a mate.
After all his decrees forbidding any Decepticon to bond.
She scowled to herself and reached into a hidden recess of her processor to call up a holo image, then stared at the massive khaki mech with the broad, open face. Her thoughts twisted and turned in on themselves, full of 'what might have been'.
-If only you were here, Grinder,- she thought to her deceased word-mate. -This stupid war's taken us to another world, and now we've lost the point of it. I need a good hug, love.-
The image was unchanged. Grinder's smile continued, good-natured and caring, but only an echo of what had been and was no more. Blizzard could feel her chin trembling as she looked at it, and it continued before her even when her weary systems took her inactivity as permission to shut down everything but vitals and sent her into sleep mode as she recharged.
Then suddenly it seemed like Grinder's face was replaced by another. One that looked like that skidplate Bonecrusher except for the cobalt blue colouring and the benign expression in the crimson optics. And there was a strange feeling around this mech... like he was more alive than others, somehow. It was soothing, but....
-Who are you?- Blizzard shrank back in her dream.
"Scattor," he rumbled, his deep voice sending small vibrations through her frame. "You wished."
-I... what? What are you talking about?- She frowned.
He nodded toward her memories of Grinder, and in her dream state she forgot to wonder how he could see them. "Wish."
Her frown deepened. Yes, she had wished to be with Grinder, as she often did. But, this stranger seemed to mean that she should consciously do it? What would that accomplish?
"Wish," he repeated, relentless as stone.
-Oh fine.- She scowled to cover the surge of pain in her spark. -I wish I were with Grinder!-
The blue mech nodded approvingly. "Through there."
He nodded toward what she'd thought was a closet door, and then vanished.
Blizzard snapped awake and sat up to hug her legs, fighting and losing a battle against tears as she thought to herself that she'd finally lost it. But the dream promise about the closet nagged at her, and finally she growled and got up to open it, intent on dispelling all vestiges of the dream.
There was a bar on the other side of the door.
Blizzard blinked and stared, then ran a self diagnostic on herself before she finally frowned and stepped cautiously through. Her sensors said that she was fully awake, yet this bar, this assortment of strange beings- most of whom bore spark signatures- couldn't exist!
"Welcome to the Black Dog." A cyclopean drone stopped beside her, his hands and head held in non-threatening positions. "How may I serve you?"
"Ah... I'm only looking around yet," she said, feeling a bit of relief to realize that she even recognized the mechanoid's make and model. "But thank you."
"You are welcome. Call for me if you need anything. My designation is Bet."
"I'll do that, Bet." She watched him go, and then looked around again before heading for a smallish table that sat by itself in a corner. Her progress was arrested by a sudden and very impossible shout of joy.
"Blizzard!"
"What?" She felt herself going dizzy with shock. "No. That's not possible."
Massive arms scooped her up and pressed her to a broad chest, and tingling kisses landed on her helm as a deep voice spoke to her excitedly and tearfully.
"This isn't possible! It's NOT!" she flailed and tried to strike out, only to have the blow glance aside.
"Shhh. Shhhh. You're scaring her." Grinder spoke to himself sternly, then broke into a grin that clashed with the tears running down his broad face. "Yeah, it's not possible, Blizzy. But I'm here. And you're here!"
She stared up at him, grunting absently as he squeezed her again, and then shuttering her optics as he snuzzled the side of her helm. "Have I died or gone crazy? Because if I have I have to make sure somehow that that slagging Hook doesn't find me and repair me."
"You're alive," he rumbled, still cuddling and not caring that they were standing in the middle of a busy bar. "And you're not crazy. I'm here."
"But you died."
"Yeah. But I didn't stay in the Well. I became an Exile and a Traveler instead." His engine purred softly with contentment as she managed to wriggle around in his arms and hug him.
"What does that mean?" She shuttered her optics, her head tucked under his chin as she listened to the familiar and beloved song of his spark.
"It means I'm alive. But that I can never go back to our reality. I help fix things across the Multiverse. Or I will. I haven't been back for very long yet." His big hand gently rubbed her back beneath her doorwings. "I couldn't settle down without you there. So they sent me back, and then Scattor said he'd help me find a way to let you know I was here."
Blizzard broke then, her static filled sobs overwhelming her as Grinder hurried her out of the bar. The next few time units were only a blur as she wept nearly hysterically with relief and release. When she came to herself again Grinder was sitting in the corner of what she would later learn was called a couch, holding her against him as she clung to his chestplates with what had to have been a painful grip.
"S... sorry." She let go and once more hugged him instead.
"It's okay," he rumbled softly. "I know you're kind of attached to me."
She snorted and sputtered, then snuzzled her face against his chest. "What now?"
"Now we sit here and catch up," he said, shifting his weight a little to be more comfortable for her to lay against. "And we can take all the time we want to, because Scattor says he made your portal the kind that'll take you back to the time you left."
Blizzard stiffened. "But I don't want to leave. I just found you!"
"Not forever." He rubbed his cheek against her helm. "Just till the next time you come."
"Oh." She relaxed slightly, though fear of losing him again kept her grip firm.
"Blizzard?" he asked softly, his deep voice shy.
"Hmmm?" She cocked an optic up toward him, wondering at the deeper note to his spark that said he was a little frightened of something.
"Will you be my bond mate?"
"Now?"
"We have time. And I've got enough fuel on hand to tide us over till we come out of the funk." His intakes went still as he 'held his breath' and waited for her reply.
And then he squeaked comically and nearly fell backward over the couch arm as she jumped up, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him till his head spun.
The next few days were a peaceful blur. After awhile they got tired of sleeping on the couch and moved over to Grinder's berth, but mostly they just snuggled and slept while their sparks settled down and figured out who ended where. It was a deep bond, and Blizzard often caught herself answering Grinder's questions before he vocalized them and having him do the same to her, or feeling his emotions as a soft not quite echo of her own.
When Blizzard returned to the Nemesis even the lack of lighting in the cold and shattered halls couldn't conceal the bounce in her step and the light in her optics. This world, this whole war, could go to the pit if it wished. Her world was complete, and her greatest treasure was safe. She could face anything now with composure, knowing that peace and haven were only a short step away.
Who, surprisingly, had fallen.
Blizzard clamped down on a giddy and rest-deprived snerk at her mental joke, then sighed deeply as she spotted a dark cubical yawning open. Someone's office maybe, in times past. It would be hers now. And it even, she found, had a door lock that still worked. Soon she was stretched out on the dented desktop, her optics unseeing as they stared up at the ceiling.
Megatron had a mate.
After all his decrees forbidding any Decepticon to bond.
She scowled to herself and reached into a hidden recess of her processor to call up a holo image, then stared at the massive khaki mech with the broad, open face. Her thoughts twisted and turned in on themselves, full of 'what might have been'.
-If only you were here, Grinder,- she thought to her deceased word-mate. -This stupid war's taken us to another world, and now we've lost the point of it. I need a good hug, love.-
The image was unchanged. Grinder's smile continued, good-natured and caring, but only an echo of what had been and was no more. Blizzard could feel her chin trembling as she looked at it, and it continued before her even when her weary systems took her inactivity as permission to shut down everything but vitals and sent her into sleep mode as she recharged.
Then suddenly it seemed like Grinder's face was replaced by another. One that looked like that skidplate Bonecrusher except for the cobalt blue colouring and the benign expression in the crimson optics. And there was a strange feeling around this mech... like he was more alive than others, somehow. It was soothing, but....
-Who are you?- Blizzard shrank back in her dream.
"Scattor," he rumbled, his deep voice sending small vibrations through her frame. "You wished."
-I... what? What are you talking about?- She frowned.
He nodded toward her memories of Grinder, and in her dream state she forgot to wonder how he could see them. "Wish."
Her frown deepened. Yes, she had wished to be with Grinder, as she often did. But, this stranger seemed to mean that she should consciously do it? What would that accomplish?
"Wish," he repeated, relentless as stone.
-Oh fine.- She scowled to cover the surge of pain in her spark. -I wish I were with Grinder!-
The blue mech nodded approvingly. "Through there."
He nodded toward what she'd thought was a closet door, and then vanished.
Blizzard snapped awake and sat up to hug her legs, fighting and losing a battle against tears as she thought to herself that she'd finally lost it. But the dream promise about the closet nagged at her, and finally she growled and got up to open it, intent on dispelling all vestiges of the dream.
There was a bar on the other side of the door.
Blizzard blinked and stared, then ran a self diagnostic on herself before she finally frowned and stepped cautiously through. Her sensors said that she was fully awake, yet this bar, this assortment of strange beings- most of whom bore spark signatures- couldn't exist!
"Welcome to the Black Dog." A cyclopean drone stopped beside her, his hands and head held in non-threatening positions. "How may I serve you?"
"Ah... I'm only looking around yet," she said, feeling a bit of relief to realize that she even recognized the mechanoid's make and model. "But thank you."
"You are welcome. Call for me if you need anything. My designation is Bet."
"I'll do that, Bet." She watched him go, and then looked around again before heading for a smallish table that sat by itself in a corner. Her progress was arrested by a sudden and very impossible shout of joy.
"Blizzard!"
"What?" She felt herself going dizzy with shock. "No. That's not possible."
Massive arms scooped her up and pressed her to a broad chest, and tingling kisses landed on her helm as a deep voice spoke to her excitedly and tearfully.
"This isn't possible! It's NOT!" she flailed and tried to strike out, only to have the blow glance aside.
"Shhh. Shhhh. You're scaring her." Grinder spoke to himself sternly, then broke into a grin that clashed with the tears running down his broad face. "Yeah, it's not possible, Blizzy. But I'm here. And you're here!"
She stared up at him, grunting absently as he squeezed her again, and then shuttering her optics as he snuzzled the side of her helm. "Have I died or gone crazy? Because if I have I have to make sure somehow that that slagging Hook doesn't find me and repair me."
"You're alive," he rumbled, still cuddling and not caring that they were standing in the middle of a busy bar. "And you're not crazy. I'm here."
"But you died."
"Yeah. But I didn't stay in the Well. I became an Exile and a Traveler instead." His engine purred softly with contentment as she managed to wriggle around in his arms and hug him.
"What does that mean?" She shuttered her optics, her head tucked under his chin as she listened to the familiar and beloved song of his spark.
"It means I'm alive. But that I can never go back to our reality. I help fix things across the Multiverse. Or I will. I haven't been back for very long yet." His big hand gently rubbed her back beneath her doorwings. "I couldn't settle down without you there. So they sent me back, and then Scattor said he'd help me find a way to let you know I was here."
Blizzard broke then, her static filled sobs overwhelming her as Grinder hurried her out of the bar. The next few time units were only a blur as she wept nearly hysterically with relief and release. When she came to herself again Grinder was sitting in the corner of what she would later learn was called a couch, holding her against him as she clung to his chestplates with what had to have been a painful grip.
"S... sorry." She let go and once more hugged him instead.
"It's okay," he rumbled softly. "I know you're kind of attached to me."
She snorted and sputtered, then snuzzled her face against his chest. "What now?"
"Now we sit here and catch up," he said, shifting his weight a little to be more comfortable for her to lay against. "And we can take all the time we want to, because Scattor says he made your portal the kind that'll take you back to the time you left."
Blizzard stiffened. "But I don't want to leave. I just found you!"
"Not forever." He rubbed his cheek against her helm. "Just till the next time you come."
"Oh." She relaxed slightly, though fear of losing him again kept her grip firm.
"Blizzard?" he asked softly, his deep voice shy.
"Hmmm?" She cocked an optic up toward him, wondering at the deeper note to his spark that said he was a little frightened of something.
"Will you be my bond mate?"
"Now?"
"We have time. And I've got enough fuel on hand to tide us over till we come out of the funk." His intakes went still as he 'held his breath' and waited for her reply.
And then he squeaked comically and nearly fell backward over the couch arm as she jumped up, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him till his head spun.
The next few days were a peaceful blur. After awhile they got tired of sleeping on the couch and moved over to Grinder's berth, but mostly they just snuggled and slept while their sparks settled down and figured out who ended where. It was a deep bond, and Blizzard often caught herself answering Grinder's questions before he vocalized them and having him do the same to her, or feeling his emotions as a soft not quite echo of her own.
When Blizzard returned to the Nemesis even the lack of lighting in the cold and shattered halls couldn't conceal the bounce in her step and the light in her optics. This world, this whole war, could go to the pit if it wished. Her world was complete, and her greatest treasure was safe. She could face anything now with composure, knowing that peace and haven were only a short step away.