A little Masterpiece drabble...
It had been a few cycles since the insanity of Hoover Dam, and things were getting worse by each astro-second. The Autobots had taken a crippling blow when the Allspark was destroyed, and it was only because that the Decepticons were scrambling to readjust and redefine their levels of power and control that the Autobots’ own disorganization was not being taken advantage of.
Megatron was dead, and had taken the Allspark with him.
But as he watched his brethren pick up the shattered pieces of their lives, some angry, some saddened, some resigned and others still in denial, he found that, strangely, the Allspark’s destruction weighed very little in his processor.
He did not have the luxury to mourn.
Optimus saw him come into the base, battle-mask still on and weapons still at the ready. He didn’t have to explain himself. Optimus knew what he had been doing-what he had been doing ever since Witwicky and Banes once again dropped off Autobot radar.
The Autobot leader came towards him, in an attempt, he knew, to get him to rest. He started to protest even before Optimus began speaking.
“We can’t leave them out there, sir,” he said. “The Decepticons are still out there-“
“We are not going to leave them,” Optimus put in gently. “However, you have not recharged in cycles.”
“What he means is,” Ironhide said gruffly, butting into the conversation. “You’re a wreck. What are you going to do when you have to face a ‘Con? Snore at them?”
He did not bother pointing out that their species did not have the physical capacity to snore. Ironhide was just making a point.
“Get some sleep, kid,” a human voice said, and he looked down, surprised that he had missed Lennox’s presence right beside Ironhide’s left foot. The human was covered in blood and ash, and his eyes were bright and grim. “We’ll get them eventually.”
Faced with these orders-and under pain of Ratchet-he finally went to his quarters.
But rest would not come to him.
They had gone to Hoover Dam, bringing almost the whole of the Autobot army-Cybertronian and human alike.
It was little wonder that they could never find the Allspark. The walls of Hoover Dam were impenetrable to their scans, and someone-he was willing to bet Witwicky or Banes, or both-had covered the place in traps. They could barely move an inch forwards without setting off a charge weapon.
And finally…finally, when they had gone through the test, Witwicky and Banes were there to greet them, sitting atop the Allspark.
The Autobots had stood, shocked still, for a good instant.
Then-as the humans put it-all hell broke loose.
The Decepticons-he didn’t know how, but they did-found out where the Allspark was. As their comrades outside Hoover Dam scrambled to intercept the invaders, the Autobots on the inside tried to evacuate the Allspark.
To his surprise, Witwicky and Banes stayed and…and fought alongside them.
The façade was dropped. The mocking, the condescension was no more. It was as though they were just another one of the Autobots’ human allies.
No longer were they enemies.
For that brief instant, they had shared a moment of understanding.
And he had realized that, in a lot of ways, Witwicky and Banes loved the Allspark too.
“I’m not leaving you,” Witwicky had told him.
“I’ll drive, you shoot,” Banes had said, fighting alongside him.
He remembered the steady resolve that was in Mikaela’s eyes, eyes that were no longer sharp and hungry. He remembered the warmth of Sam’s hands, trembling with actual human fear for once as he was entrusted with the Allspark, the marks no longer glistening.
For that brief instant, they were human again.
For that brief instant, the children he loved had returned to him.
And though the battle raged around them and though his legs had been blown off and though his spark had a good chance of being deactivated at any moment, he had felt-felt good. As if the world was finally getting to where it was supposed to be.
But then…but after their encounter with Megatron, an encounter that left the tyrant quite dead…Then they were gone again, swallowed by the façade that were Witwicky and Banes, special agents of Sector Seven.
But that brief instant melted away all the insane and lonely years. His resolve was renewed.
For as long as he continued to function, he would never give up. Not on humanity, not on peace, and certainly…certainly not on them.
He remembered the warmth of their hands. He remembered their eyes, their beautiful kind eyes. He remembered their laughter, back in those times when they laughed for joy, not for spite or malice. He remembered them. He remembered who they really were, and …and they were beautiful.
Memories of yesterday and hopes of tomorrow blended, and dreams finally claimed him.