Armada-'verse. Cyberton. Wishes in the night.

[random_xtras]

Nightwish blinks as she comes back online, and then quirks a slight grin as she realizes that she's laying on the floor in her quarters, in her favorite place partially underneath her berth. -I made it home. Bonus

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[random_xtras]

Nightwish can feel him all around her, forbidding her to go, but despite everything she can feel herself slipping. Frustration wells up alongside the pain and illness as she thinks bitterly that she doesn't seem to have a choice.

[backupbots]

The sense of refusal from Thunderclash increases: if she can't choose he will. But even if he wasn't addle-headed from the feedback, he has no idea what he could do - aside from upping her motivation...

Meanwhile Makeshift has commandeered a truck-former; Firebot and Prowl help him lift Thunderclash, Nightwish and all, on. The medic's still trying to help, but he knows he'll need better equipment. Not that he's going to waste time heading for his own repair bay when he knows one closer.

[random_xtras]

-M'I... worth it?- The thought's nearly too faint to hear.

[backupbots]

Slag it all.

He pulls back a moment, and then starts feeding memories to her. He lets her see weeks of being ignored, dodging careless swipes and collapsing rubble; he shows her a hundred memories of mistreatment, punishment, contempt; the feeling of years of despisal - and later, moments of desperate respect, patronising liking or film-thin flattery from the Decepticons (and even the Minicons) around him, moments where he hovered on the edge of the firing line, knowing their good treatment depended on not knowing... anything.

Then he thinks of encountering her, and realising how she felt about him. He picks out one sensation from that memory, peels it clean of all the other emotions before he passes it to her, and lets Nightwish experience the pure novelty of being genuinely loved.

Never before, he thinks, flipping through the pleasant memories that followed. That's all thanks to you.

[random_xtras]

If she had optics she'd blink, and the wondering, unspoken thought comes that she hadn't thought he cared about that.

[backupbots]

He manages to convey the sound of laughter, though not the feeling. I told you, you don't know what you're worth.

[random_xtras]

Wry humor and affection make their way past the pain and nausea, and then she's sparking apology as she convulses, her senses scattering every which way.

[backupbots]

Hold on! he commands, gripping as hard as he can. After the way he's just exposed himself, it has to count for something.

[random_xtras]

Her spark song rises to an agonized keen as she struggles against the maelstrom, and then she slips, her panic ripping across their senses like lightening.

-Primus....- It's a memory of a whisper.

And then her spark sinks into his and goes still.

[backupbots]

The shock of emotions not his own send Thunderclash's mind reeling. But it's the final confusion that tips him over the edge. Unable to understand what's just happened, disoriented and exhausted, he slips into stasis lock.

Makeshift notes the change with a worried gaze, then looks up as they draw up to the repair lab he plans to steal.

[random_xtras]

"Doc?" The truck bot's voice is uneasy as he senses the sudden silence of his cargo.

[backupbots]

"Nothing to worry about." Makeshift looks up and nods to his team-mates, riding beside him. "We'll get them unloaded-"

Thunderclash stirs for a minute, trying to regain awareness. His sensors flail again, and he voids his fuel roughly from a hatch in his side.

"What's he been drinking?" Prowl wonders at the smell.

[random_xtras]

"Ugh!" The truck swerves slightly. "There was a reason I gave up hauling organic livestock!"

[backupbots]

Firebot chuckles and slaps a hand on the Bulk's armour, then hops off the . "Damaged bots aren't too pretty either."

Thunderclash is shaking, only hazily aware of what's going on. Makeshift scans him as Prowl follows Firebot down. Together the three of them lift their patient off the soiled truck bed.