Transformers Prime - Sparked

Happy

            Arcee missed CliffJumper so much; she still remembered all the little things he’d done for her, all the little gestures. She remembered every time they’d sneak off in the dead of night just to be alone together. It was something she needed and loved, and now? Now she was like an addict without a drug, but her addiction would never truly go away.

            She still remembered the day he passed, how she’d found nothing but his horn on the empty ground. She remembered their failed attempt to rescue him at the energon mine. She remembered the explosion and the dark energon that had come from him and drained her energy. She remembered that small amount of hope she’d had that he was alive when his life signal had come online . . . but it had all been a trick.

            She recalled StarScream claiming for the first time that he had been the one to slay CliffJumper, and she had nearly lost her mind.

            She stared out at the night sky now, listening to the dead silence of lonely emptiness.

            “Cliff . . . you still love me, don’t you? Are you waiting for me in the Well of All Sparks?” She wished so badly he was, that there was still a chance for them to be together. Yet the lack of feeling in her spark where she should’ve felt CliffJumper made her hopes fall. “I still love you . . .”

            She looked down, almost ashamed to admit that she loved the dead. CliffJumper would’ve wanted her to be strong and move on with her life cycle, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t leave him behind like he was nothing. How could she even think of it? He was everything she’d wanted, though she’d never admit it.

            From the moment he and Bumblebee had rescued her from Airachnid, she’d known CliffJumper was different. She’d known he was something special. All the adventures they’d had just made it more obvious, and then when he’d said he loved her . . .

            Well she’d felt her spark stop each time he’d said those words. It didn’t matter how many times it happened, every time they kissed, touched, or said those three words, she’d fallen for him all over again.

            And he’d lavished her with care no one else had dared.

            He’d made her feel . . . happy.

            So it was no wonder she could come off as so bitter nowadays. In a way, it was kind of curious that no one had ever suspected them of their true relationship. They’d almost been caught a few times.

            They’d been in the training room that day, looking for a little time to themselves, seeing as how the Autobots were having a rare day where they were all at base. And because of their current lack of self control, they wanted some time to be alone. So they’d gone to the training room, which hadn’t been their best idea since it was so public, but they hadn’t bothered to think it through.

            Arcee smiled, recalling the memory. She and CliffJumper had actually been kissing quite steamily when the door had opened, and CliffJumper had done a quick improvisation to save their metal hides. He broke it off in an instant, and breathing heavily in a way that wasn’t entirely fake, said, “Pinned ya, Cee. Wanna go again?”

            She saw Bulkhead and Bumblebee walk in, and had quickly agree with him to diffuse suspicions. They pulled away and began sparring for real this time, sharing the room with Bulkhead and Bee.

            There were multiple situations like that, and somehow they’d gotten away each time. “You sure were the quick one, Cliff.” The blue femme smiled, remembering the feel of CliffJumper’s servos on hers, and the . . . other places they occasionally strayed to.

            CliffJumper had made Arcee feel special, and that was something she hadn’t felt before, not to the capacity he caused in her. And being without him . . . she couldn’t bear it some days, but she forced herself to.

            “Tell me you’re not really gone, Cliff. Tell me it’s just a dream. Tell me it’s just a nightmare I’ll still wake up from,” she pleaded quietly to the stars. “Please, Cliff, I’ll do anything.” She wished so much that somehow her pleas would actually make something happen, that they’d somehow cause CliffJumper to come back to her so that they could be together again in the way they were meant to be. Cliff was someone she couldn’t imagine her life cycle without, not after she’d been determined to spend it with him.

            “AllSpark save me from this insanity,” she mumbled, feeling the desperation she carried, made obvious by her words and pleas to no one in particular. But she couldn’t help herself, she felt lost when she had nothing to do to occupy her time. She felt lost without Cliff.

            And she couldn’t shake his memory for all that it was worth.

            And yet, somehow the memory itself brought a little bit of joy to her spark. It made her remember how joyous life cycles could be, even without him there, she could surely find happiness in something she cared for.

            She had Jack. She had her team. No one could replace CliffJumper, that was certain, but she still had those who cared. She had a family. And she would protect them with all her spark. She would face down every Con and every member of M.E.C.H. if it meant keeping them safe.

            She would give her spark for them, and more importantly for Cliff, if she ever had the chance. She smiled, remembering the days they’d shared, and when she’d finally realized that maybe Cliff wasn’t all that bad; that maybe he would be a good partner after all. What she didn’t realize was that their partnership would extend beyond the battlefield.

            But Arcee didn’t regret a second of it. “I would do it all again in a sparkbeat, Cliff. I can promise you that,” she said, and as the words left her, she felt a new strength flowing through her limbs; a new happiness flooded her spark. “I swear, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

            Then, she heard an unexpected and all-too-familiar voice behind her speak up. “That’s good, Cee, cause I wouldn’t want you to regret every time I annoyed you, even though I know you secretly loved it.”

            That vocalizer . . . it wasn’t, it couldn’t, and yet, when she turned around and saw his red form, fully intact with a total absence of dark energon, she nearly cried out. Her optics were wide and she wondered if it was a dream after all, but his translucent form spoke volumes.

            “Been too long, Cee, I missed you.”

            This was not CliffJumper. This was his spirit.