Wattpad hates youtube still, so here's the link to the song to play: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7FDAkpQSJVA
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Sam didn’t realize he was moving until he fell beside his friend and shook her shoulders, crying out to her. She did not move, though. She did not even make a sound as he screamed and screamed while his eyes burned behind a stream of tears. He didn’t want to, but he had to pull away as the putrid stench of burned flesh caused him to wretch. Nothing came up and he forced himself to turn back to her. He cupped her face this time, still calling out her name, but the young woman’s eyes were dull and lifeless, the eyelids half-closed and burned. She still did not move, and he had to turn away a second time when the smell made him gag again. He did not let her go, though, and his eyes looked to the main battle field, which had finally begun to calm with the last of the Decepticons being defeated.
“Help! Please!” he hollered. “Lennox! Epps! Somebody! Help!”
Somehow, the two men heard and turned their heads. They were battered, bruised, and bloodied, but they did not hesitate to drop everything and run. They didn’t even need the young man to ask why he needed it; they instinctively knew, and their eyes went wide with fear. Three more joined the two in their mad sprint, and they skidded down beside Sam. A string of “no” poured from the Lennox’s mouth as he brushed the young man’s hands away to lightly tap at the young woman’s face. When he got no response, his hands moved to her chest where they began to press down in rapid succession. However, the only response they received was the small gush of blood through the gashing wound that had formed above her breast.
“Stop! Stop! Stop!” Sam howled as he brushed Lennox away, and then tore off both his backpack and jacket. He bundled the latter it up and tired to stop the blood, but it only served to break the charred skin further, and he threw away the cloth with disgust. His tears came faster down as he looked upon his friend while Epps called for a medic. He could barely stand the sight of her; her suit was burned and frayed and torn apart by the explosion. Her pale skin was blackened in areas where it had been seared, and he could see the pink flesh and white bond where the explosion had slashed through her collar. Her hands were worse off, the flesh completely black or red and hardly resembling a hand at all. Only her face remained mostly intact, but even that bore burns and cuts, and her eyes still gazed upon them without the slimmest traces of life.
Sam knew then his fears were true, but he wanted desperately to not accept it. Yet, there was no denying it.
Catherine was dead.
“No—it can’t be! Don’t do this to us!” Anthony cried out as he stood behind Lennox, his hands latched to his face as he tried to comprehend it all. Next to him, Epps cursed and shouted and cursed some more as he again called for a medic and, at last, others came towards them. Jackson was silent as he crouched at Catherine’s feet, his eyes hard and dark as he rocked back and forth. Lennox, too, was silent as he sat back on his knees, his stare blank and empty; lost. Fig was the only to really move, and he did so by wringing Sam up to his feet by his collar, bringing the young man’s face dangerously close to his. His eyes were blazing with pain and anger, and Sam did not blame him.
“What the fuck happened!?” he snarled through grit teeth.
The young man sputtered, “S-she did it to save us. She destroyed the Pillar.”
The Mexican man’s grip tightened briefly, as if he intended to hit the young man, but, in the end, he threw him back roughly and turned away, cursing. Sam spared Fig a moment’s glance before looking back to Catherine. He felt the need to wretch a third time at the sight of her ruined flesh, but he held it back and looked upon her face instead. Unfortunately, that, too, made his stomach clench; never had he seen her so lifeless, so lacking of the luster he had known to be a part of her for so long. It was like she wasn’t even the best friend he knew anymore. It was like she was just another casualty, and the thought made the bile rise in his throat.
“God,” he breathed and collapsed on his knees next to her, his hand reaching out to hers. He flinched away when he touched the blackened skin. It felt rough and brittle; as if it might break at just the thought of holding her hand. The tears were even hotter now, and he did not bother to wipe them away. A loud sniff, curse, and choked sob told him he was not the only one. The men she called family were trying their hardest to hold back the tears, but only a few of them succeeded.
"No,” a new voice rang out, and Sam looked up to find Sideswipe standing just feet from them, his frame shaking with wide, wild optics. “No, no, no, no, no, NOO!”
There was no time to move as the silver mech charged forward and swatted all of them away. He did not care he did so roughly, bruising and scraping them as they hit the cement. The mech did not care that they shouted or that the other Autobots, now coming towards them, shouted, too; his optics and audio receptors were focused solely on the still form of the redhead woman. “No” continued to string from his mouth, growing louder with each repetition as he reached out to touch her gingerly. She did not stir, though, and the shouts grew louder and his optics more crazed. When Lennox and their medical field unit drew near he slapped them away, this time with more force. Ratchet tried next, but he had to leap away in order to avoid a Cybertonium blade from cleaving his head off.
“Sideswipe! Stop! We’re trying to help!” Bluestreak cried out, attempting to reach out to the mech. He was surprised, though, when it was not the silver ‘bot whom lashed out, but his brother. The golden-armored mech grasped the sniper’s arm and used it to wring him away into Hound, whom stumbled as he caught him. Sunstreaker glared at them and then Ratchet, whom aimed to reprimand the two. The medic stopped short, the mech’s glare so dark and fearsome that he would have shivered were he human.
“Mom!” a chorus of four voices rang, and all looked up just as the Aerialbots transformed and landed, optics wide and full of pain and horror. They pushed past the others and did not care for the humans that they nearly crushed beneath their feat as they rushed for their mother. However, they would not reach them, as Ratchet ordered the others to stop them, and Mirage, Smokescreen, Bumblebee, and Bluestreak complied.
“No! Let us go!” Air Raid snarled as he fought against the yellow scout, but Bumblebee held fast.
“Mom! Moom! Noo!” Fireflight screeched as he, too, struggled, but his attempt was much weaker and losing strength the more he gazed at the half-hidden form of the red-headed woman. The sight of her grew smaller as Sideswipe curled closer around her, his hands wanting to touch her, but too afraid to do so.
“There’s nothing you can do!” Smokescreen spoke firmly, yet as gently as he could while he held back Skydive, whom attempted to wrestle his way out and nearly did. The tactician managed to gain a new grip and now held the Aerialbot at bay despite his whimpers. The only one who did not try to escape was Silverbolt, whose features had stilled and darkened as he looked upon his mother, and his holder, Mirage, began to worry.
After a few more seconds, Silverbolt looked to Ratchet, “Let us go to her.”
“I would if I could. Sunstreaker will let no one pass in this state,” the medic replied, gesturing to the golden-armored mech, whom stood before his brother as a dangerous, stalwart wall. “Not even the Wreckers would get by them without having to seriously harm them. There is just no reasoning with them now!”
Sam swallowed hard at Ratchet’s words, and reconsidered trying to get close. He looked up at Sunstreaker, and he could not help feeling like an insect before him. The mech was crouched slightly, his shoulders lifted like some feral beast ready to strike at any moment. There did not appear to be any sense to his optics; they were darkened and narrowed, as if there was only a basic, instinctual function to protect his brother. Sideswipe, likewise appeared to have only the sense to form a protective barrier between Catherine and the world, all the while calling for her with pained, sorrowful cries that made Sam’s heart pang even more.
“Sam! What’s going o—oh my god,” a feminine voice rang out, and the young man turned to find Carly, her mouth pressed to her lips and her eyes wide as she, too, caught sight of Catherine. At once, her eyes watered and she started to move forward, but stopped when she met Sam’s gaze and the young man shook his head. She looked to him, confused, and even reached out to take his hand, but he pulled away and she did not try again. The young man looked away from her, back to his best friend once more, and a fresh wave of tears cascading downward.
It was there he remained, standing as close as he could be without the wrath of the brothers coming down upon him. Others would continue to try and come close, but Sunstreaker was ruthless and relentless, and Sideswipe would scream for them to stay away if they managed to get through, drawing himself ever tighter around his bond mate. Those who did not understand stayed far away or found more to do before they were all sent away by Lennox when he regained some of his senses and realized there were things they had to do in the aftermath of the battle. Yet, he did not go with them, nor did his team, and only a few of the Autobots left, while the rest remained in silent mourning.
Their stupor was only broken when their commander emerged from down the street, limping, but still intact. While the sight of missing arm was a surprise, it was the object in his hands, glowing and pulsing brightly, that made them gawk. The Matrix was rarely seen, let alone active, and so the Autobots parted for their leader at once. Human also made way, and not solely for the purpose of not being squished. They would not be able to explain, but as they gazed upon the ancient artifact, they were filled with a strange sense of awe that did not feel entirely their own. If it were to be put into words, it would be as if they were witness to something sacred; something not meant for mortal eyes. Whatever the case, they were silent as Optimus Prime walked through the group to stand just feet from the two brothers, right beside Sam. The young man’s eyes widened when the Prime let his optics falls upon him, full with some wisdom he did not think he could ever come to understand.
“Samuel,” Optimus began as he crouched down low and held out the artifact to the young man. “Take it to her.”
The young man struggled for words, “W-what? I—I don’t—”
“It will be alright. Take it. You will understand,” he replied, and, hesitantly, Sam wrapped his fingers around the cool, yet warm metal.
At once his body was filled with a painless fire and his mind filled with words, images, and thoughts—none that were his own. They consumed him completely, and for an infinite moment he could not breathe. He was no longer a part of himself or even the world. He had gone through the vast chasm that was known as the Universe and seen and known things he never thought possible. Then the moment was gone and he was returned to his flesh once more. He sucked in air and could feel so many things—the pulse of life from all those around him; the flux of the Earth beneath his feet; the birth and death of a star. He felt it as he never felt before, and, eyes wide, he looked around him. The world seemed so different now; so clear and pristine in a way he could not recall it, and he was overcome with emotions he could not remember feeling so strong, so pure.
When his gaze fell upon the still form of the redheaded young woman, a purpose overcame it all. It moved his feet toward the ferocious golden mech without fear, and even as Sunstreaker loomed over him, he did not feel the cold touch. Optics and eyes met, and, though the others gave shouts of concern, Optimus subdued them, and they watched as their worry was unneeded. The Matrix flared and whatever had touched Sam seemed to touch the golden mech; his optics regained normality and flickered once before his posture relaxed as he stepped aside to allow the young man passage. The crowd around them was hushed as he came to Sideswipe, whom looked upon him with such rage that, again, his comrades felt the spark of fear for him. Once again, it was for naught; although the silver mech was enraged, the strange force that had overcome his brother now seemed to infect the mech as well.
“Stay away!” he hissed, but he did not move to strike out; only curl his fingers closer around the young woman’s body.
Sam displayed the Matrix, his gaze steadfast, “Sideswipe.”
The mech’s optics met the young man’s eyes for what felt minutes, but it was only seconds before he looked down at the redhead, his fingers unable to touch her pale face, although they longed dearly to do so. They shook now as his spark struggled. He could not permit anyone else to touch her—she was his bond mate; his other half; a sacred part of him. He had been foolish enough to let her go from her sight, and now she was gone, though it seemed impossible. His spark could barely take the strain, and knew if others were to touch her—to taint her more—he might not be able to suffer it. Yet, the feeling which had overcome the young man and his brother now filled him, and while it was comforting, it also created a strong fear in him. What if it were for naught? What if she worsened because he let her go? And yet—and yet!
Tentatively Sideswipe’s finger slowly pulled away from the redheaded woman, and then so, too, did his body move, though not far. It was enough for Sam and others to come near, but not so far as the young man did, dropping to his knees beside her. Pleading silently for what he had seen to be true, he allowed the force which had come over him to press the Matrix to her chest.
At once the artifact became blazing hot and he was blinded by the light.
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-O-
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Wake up
Her eyes opened slowly, the white glow too bright for her at first. With a few blinks it became tolerable, and she was suddenly aware of a feeling of lightlessness; as if she were floating. It was a strange feeling, but she was not alarmed, for it came with the sensation of warmth and calmness. There was nothing to fear here, although it was strange. She could not recall the ethereal sensation that engulfed her, and she found she could not recall much at all. Of what she did know, it was that she was different from the whiteness, although it accepted her with open arms. She also felt she knew this place, and yet it was foreign. But if she was not the whiteness, then who was she? Where was she?
Her sight suddenly changed, and a number of tall, jagged spires appeared, which were floating above her in a parallel fashion. Confusion came over her as she wondered how it could be—how could such a feature be floating? The realization came hard and fast and suddenly the lightlessness was gone and she felt a firm surface beneath her. When she looked down she found two feet which were attached to two long limbs, which in turn, were attached to a much thicker piece that continued the ascension to her sight, which she knew to be her head. She had arms and hands as well, and she looked at them as a child first born into the world. She was human, she knew, and had lived some life that felt so long ago that it took great effort to recall it, and when she did, she gasped for air she did not realize she needed, and she knew.
She was Catherine Wolf.
“Ya finally woke up,” a metallic voice rang out, and the redhead spun sharply on her feet to look upon a familiar face. She could not speak, her mouth hanging open while the owner of the voice grinned like some fool pleased with his own joke. “S’good ta see ya again, Shorty.”
“J-Jazz?” she murmured at last and reached her hand out to him, but stopped short as her eyes narrowed. “You’re… You’re tiny.”
Though she should have expected it, she was surprised when the white-armored mech burst into laughter, his blue visor brightening to where it almost matched the white around them. For the redhead it was certainly no laughing matter; the mech, who should have towered over with a height at least three times her own, now stood barely a few inches taller than her. It was strange and unbelievable, but so was the fact he stood there before her now. The last she had seen him was when he was damaged and bleeding and dying in the sands of Egypt, but here he was, alive and well and laughing. It made her want to do so many things—laugh; cry; jump for joy; shout; slap him. In the end, though, she rushed forward just as his laughs began to fade and, for the first time, wrapped her arms around his waist. They could not reach all the way, but it was enough, and his frame was warm as he locked his arms back around her gently so as to not poke the metal plates into her.
“I missed ya, too, ‘Cat.”
She pulled away to glare at him, “Why the hell did you leave me, Jazz!? How could you just—just go like that! I needed you!”
“I know, I know,” he vented softly with a poor attempt to smile at her. “I didn’t want ta go, ya know, but I had ta. Things got all weird n’ I had ta go and settle ‘em, y’see. I know I shoulda been there for ya, but things ain’t so easy here.”
“What do you mean? Where is ‘here’ anyways?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Was hopin’ ta relax a bit more before we got down ta business, but…walk with me, yeah?” he spoke, gesturing for her to do so as he sauntered by. “This here is the Well o’ Sparks, located in the Matrix itself, and gateway ta Primus. And this place is where sparks, which are made ‘o Energon, go when a frame can’t hold it no more. Here, the spark goes back ta Primus—back in ta the Energon— bringing the memories and knowledge with it. Its kind like what ya humans call the ‘after life’, I think. Closest I can remember, anyways.”
“Jazz, wait—I’m confused. What’s this ‘Primus’ thing? I don’t remember anyone talking about him at all.”
The mech chuckled. “He’s not really anyone ta be honest—he’s just kind ‘o there. He’s always been there. He’s what everythin’ comes from. He’s the source o’ Energon.”
She frowned again, “I don’t really, um… get it.”
He grinned a little, “Energon is just a name fo’ energy—it encompasses all the energies ya humans know ‘bout: thermal; electrical; nuclear. It’s what makes all them elements ya scientist people talk about. It’s what makes up the planets and gives power ta ya Sun n’ all the stars in the galaxy. It’s the energy the Universe thrives on. It’s the energy that makes up ya skin, ya bone, and ya cells down ta the smallest atom. Energon is everywhere, ya see. It’s everythin’. And Primus is both it and the source ‘o it. He’s everywhere and everythin’, too.”
Catherine’s lips were creased into a thin line as they walked through the countless spires of black rock, which curved over them as if to form an arch, but did not touch each other. The whiteness had not faded, nor had the warmth, although it was not as strong in the face of her confusion. Jazz, noticing her expression, motioned for her to follow him to the base of a spire where he sat upon a flat face that was long and wide enough to support them both. There she joined him and clasped her hands together on her lips, her eyes gazing out into the whiteness.
“So… is… is Primus… like…God or something?” she inquired slowly, and the mech tilted his head.
“Well, he ain’t what ya humans would call ‘God’. He don’t work the same way, but its close ta what ya thinkin’ ‘bout.”
“So, if this is like the afterlife, then is this where everything goes in the end?”
He shook his head, “Naw. That ain’t how it works here, either. This is the Well o’ Sparks. Ya Energon goes back here, but ya experiences don’t—not like with sparks. Y’see, sparks ain’t just Energon. They got a lot more ta them. They’re like pieces o’ Primus himself that were once made through the Allspark. They hold our memories—our feelings; thoughts; actions; everythin’. And when our sparks come here they join with the rest and become one with ‘em again.”
“Sparks are like a soul then,” Catherine mused, a smile tugging at her lips.
“Yeah, ya could say that.”
The redhead became silent as she thought, and the things that came to mind made her frown with puzzlement a third time, along with something else. It was that “something else” which made the mech’s visor watch her silently, reading her features. She did not speak for some time, and when she looked to him, the confusion was great, and she was hesitant as she reached up to touch his metal cheek.
“Jazz… is it… are you really… you?”
At last the mech understood the “something else” was doubt, and he was not entirely surprised. He smiled gently at her as he took her hand into his clawed fingers and retracted his visor so his blue optics shone brightly as they gazed into hers. Catherine’s eyes widened as a warm sensation moved through her fingers to the rest of her body. At the same time images—memories, she realized—began to flow over her vision and she knew at once they were Jazz’s. She saw all their times together; their first meeting; his sacrifice; his revival; their talks; his protection; his assurance; his death. The white-armored mech before her was, without doubt now, the one she had called her brother and guardian. He was Jazz, and she smiled, relieved. The mech, however, did not. Rather, his expression became somber, and so did hers seconds later as the warmth faded and a sense of seriousness overcame her. She almost couldn’t breathe as he opened his mouth plates to speak.
"’Cat… do you know why you’re here?” he asked slowly, carefully. She attempted to answer, but stopped when she realized she had trouble remembering. She struggled against the fog that had formed and, thankfully, it did not take long before it started to fade away. Soon enough, the moments from so long ago returned to her, and a torrent of emotions threatened to swallow her. However, the mech sent warmth through again and she was stable once more.
“I…I died… while destroying the Pillar,” she spoke softly before turning to Jazz. “Did… did it work? Is everyone alright? Will they be?”
At last the mech smiled as he nodded, “Yeah. It worked. Ya saved ‘em all—the ‘bots, ya human friends, and the Earth. Everyone’s gonna be alright.”
“Even… even Sideswipe? I-I know he’ll be hurting for a while, but he’ll get better… right? I… I told myself he would be so I could do it, but will he? A-and everyone else?”
“It’s gonna take a long time, but he will. All ‘o ‘em will.”
“Good,” she replied, a small smile tugging at her lips. It was not entirely sincere, though, and she pulled her hand away from Jazz to look down upon it in her lap. She breathed in deeply, closing her eyes to control her emotions, which had begun to boil up from the depths.
“Do ya wanna go back?”
Catherine’s head turned sharply, but then she looked back down with a short chuckle. She glanced up at the mech a few times, twiddling her fingers, before she answered.
“Of course I do. I’d give anything to go back and be with them. I love them. I never wanted to leave them—to leave the Autobots, my dad, my team, Sam, my kids, and… and Sideswipe… but I had to. I had to go so they could be safe. And if I went back and had to do it again, I would still give my life. I would do it to save them again and again so long as it would let them live.”
Jazz beamed at her and reached out to grip her shoulder warmly, “That’s exactly what I wanted ta hear!”
“…Huh?”
“It’s what the Primes needed ta hear, too,” he continued as he stood and gestured for her to do the same. “Y’see, I been busy ever since I came back ta here, talkin’ ta the Primes ‘bout ya.”
“Wait—the Primes? They’re here, too?” she inquired, searching warily for the mechs in question.
“Yeah, they’re here. They’re just not showin’ up ‘cause they didn’t want ya ta freak out… and they’re a little ashamed o’ themselves,” he replied and held up his hand when Catherine opened her mouth to interrupt him. “Hold on ta ya questions, alright? Probably ‘bout ta answer ‘em anyways…So, yeah, the Prime’s are ashamed, although that ain’t the word they would use. It’s just, they realized they was wrong ‘bout ya. Back when ya made the Aerialbots they thought ya had betrayed ‘em—betrayed ta Allspark. They thought ya had joined sides with the Fallen, and they couldn’t let that happen. Y’know how bad he was. They couldn’t see it wasn’t ya fault, though. They couldn’t see ya wanted ta get away and that ya made them Aerialbots ta do that. They can only feel what happens ta this place through the way ya use ya powers, and the Fallen was taintin’ it when he touched ya. They had ta keep its purity, so they took it from both you and Sam. They see now they was wrong, though. Takes ‘em forever, being that time flows different here n’ all, but they understand now that they was right ta choose ya in the first place.”
Catherine narrowed her eyes, “They…chose me?”
Jazz nodded, “Yeah. From the moment you n’ Sam were born, they knew ya two were the ones. From what little Energon ya had, they could see it, and they got their confirmation when ya both touched the Allspark. It’s always been you two—y’see, they thought the Allspark was too much ta undertake by one o’ ya, so, they decided ta split it up between ya. They thought ya would remain together and learn ta use the power with each other, but then ya threw a ‘monkey wrench’ in their plans, is what ya might say.”
“You mean when Sam n’ me got into that fight.”
“Right again, shorty. They got worried then, but I did my best ta reassure ‘em, and they was okay until ya got captured by the Fallen. They decided things had ta change then, and that’s why they sent them visions ta Sam and brought ‘em ta the Matrix. It’s why they put both ya powers in ta the Matrix and gave it ta Prime. It’s why I had ta go, too. I was sent ta guard ya, remember? It was my duty ta make sure ya stayed safe. ‘Course I botched that up. Was even worse ‘cause o’ the fact ya got under my plates, shorty. Ya were so much more ta me than some charge, and I let ya down. I wanted so badly not ta leave ya that day in Egypt, but they brought me back once they made Prime the new protector o’ the Matrix and the Allspark, and they wanted me ta join the Well, but I fought ‘em. I fought ‘em ‘cause I could still help ya. I fought ‘em, and I’ve been fightin’ hard ta convince ‘em ya were the right choice. And just now, ya proved me right.”
“I… I’m still confused,” she replied after a few moments, biting her lip. “The Primes were mad, but now they’re not?”
He grabbed her shoulders so their eyes and optics met, “’Cat, if ya could go back—if there was some way ta let ya go back—would ya take it? No matter what it was? Even if it meant that, when ya went back, ya wouldn’t be completely the same? Ya would still be you, but it wouldn’t be completely the same.”
“But I would get to be with everyone, and I’d still be me—like I’ll have the same personality and memories?”
“Yeah.”
She did not hesitate as she replied, “Yes. Of course.”
“Then I’m honored ta be the one ta inform ya you’re now ta Allspark,” Jazz grinned widely, and laughed loudly when the redhead stared at him like he crazy. “I ain’t foolin’ ya, ‘Cat. The Primes have been watchin’ ya some through the Matrix, and when ya came here they saw it all. Ya been through ups and downs, but they know ya worthy o’ the powers and strong enough ta handle ‘em all. They know they chose right with ya, and they want ya to be the one to wield it—all of it.”
“What… Buh… I’ve… I’ve killed Decepticons—other Cybertronians! I’ve killed people, too! Not all of them directly, but I still led to their deaths. They really want someone like that with the Allspark’s power?” she inquired back, her lips curving downward into a small frown.
“’Cat,” the silver mech began, “ya was at war. There’s a lot ‘o killin’ in war, and there’s no helpin’ it. Besides, I’ve slagged way more ‘Cons than you’ve killed people and ‘bots combined, and they still chose me ta represent ‘em. The Primes ain’t so clean themselves, neither—they’ve taken Cybertronian life before. So activate the coolant, shorty, and don’t be worryin’ ‘bout that.”
“I… uh… I don’t really know what to… um… say then?” she tried, smiling a little, though she was still a tiny bit confused. The mech laughed as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“Just say ya accept, otherwise I might get a talkin’ fo’ draggin’ them Primes on,” he winked, and, at last, his words and the moment sunk into the redhead. Her mouth opened, then closed, and her eyes went wide while her heart beat raced. Countless thoughts and realization flooded through her mind while excitement coursed through her body. She would be able to go back. She would be able to see Sideswipe and everyone again. She would have her powers back. She could bring their friends back.
Her head shot up toward him, “Jazz! I can—I can bring them back! I can bring Slingshot and Skids and Mudflap and even Ironhide and Chromia and Wheeljack back! I can bring them all back! I can bring you back!”
While her elation was at one of the higher levels it had ever been, it was brought down quickly when the white mech’s face was sullen rather than happy in the wake of her words. She, too, became somber, and she looked to him with confusion yet again. She felt a trickle of disappointment fill her when he looked away from a brief moment before gazing upon her with a sad smile.
“Sorry, ‘Cat, but… ya can’t bring me back. Can’t bring any o’ them back except for ‘Jackie. No one before the fight ‘n Chicago can be brought back.”
“What? Why!?”
“It’s… it’s how it is, ‘Cat. Slingshot… ya took his spark from here before it’s time, and now he’s back ta restore that balance. Ya don’t need ta worry ‘bout him, though. He’s happy messin’ ‘round with the others here and showin’ off and talkin’ ‘bout how great his ‘Mom’ is. Skids n’ Mudflap are showboats, too, although sometimes the others ask ‘bout sendin’ ‘em back,” he replied, laughing a little. “As for Chromia and ‘Hide… Well, don’t ya think it’s time those two got ta rest? They’ve been fightin’ longer than most any ‘o us have been online. They’ve seen a whole lot ‘o their friends die and more war than any ‘bot should have ta see. Ain’t it time ta give ‘em some small measure ‘o peace?”
Catherine’s head fell, “You’re right… but why not you then?”
"Well, I still got a role ta play in this gig. See, I been doin’ such a good job workin’ between ya world and this, I kinda earned my spot as representative. I find it ain’t all that bad,” Jazz answered gently, and lifted her head back up. “Hey, don’t get all upset ‘bout it. Ya ain’t getting’ rid ‘o me that easy. I’m gonna be right here, helpin’ ya the whole way. Ya can reach me any time ya want, y’hear? I’m with ya—I always have been, n’ I always will.”
Eyes watering, the redhead wrapped her arms around him for a second time, and he did not hesitate to return the embrace, murmuring comfort into her ear. While she would mourn the loss of her friends and the inability to return them to the world of the living, she would accept it and be content. For, although they remained out of her reach, not all were, and she would be able to create life once more. And that was only the beginning. She knew very well what her powers would do for her, and she would not hesitate for her bond mate.
“Okay,” she spoke when she pulled away from Jazz, looking straight into his smiling face, “I’m ready. And thanks for waking me up back there, by the way. I was a little out of it beforehand.”
He tilted his head, the smile becoming a playful grin, “Me? I ain’t the one who woke ya. I was actually startin’ ta think I was gonna have ta resuscitate ya.”
“Wait—you didn’t say ‘wake up’? Then who did? Or are you just messing with me again? I hardly think this is the time for that!” she laughed, slapping his chassis lightly. He laughed in turn, but the playful—now knowing—grin remained.
“Naw, I ain’t messin’ with ya. It ain’t me who called ya, but it is someone ya know who went a great way ta find ya, and they want ya back real bad.”
Her heart skipped a bit as she whispered, “He found me…”
“Yeah, he did. Let’s not keep ‘em waiting, yeah?” Jazz chuckled lightly, and the redhead nodded. “I’ll see ya later then, shorty. Tell the others I said ‘hi’, if ya don’t mind.”
Catherine was about to nod again when she felt something—a metallic hand—touch her shoulder. It was not cold, but rather warm; like the kind of warmth one felt next to the fire on a cold winter’s day and with loved ones all around. She looked and a smile crossed her lips at once when she recognized the elated face of her Slingshot, right as rain and more alive than she’d ever seen him before. Even without speaking, she could feel his words of happiness, love, and encouragement, and she knew she would not worry over him. She would have reached up to touch his hand, but was distracted as a thick head brushed against her, and three different pairs of legs clutch to her left shoulder. She looked first to her shoulder where her drone perched and then down to her waist to find Steeljaw there, all of them happy and whole once again. Tears brimmed, and she would have let them fall had she not felt more hands, this time a pair, touch her.
She turned her gaze and saw it was Ironhide and Chromia, their chassis pressed close and their free arms wrapped around one another. She could not remember a time when they looked so happy, so carefree and full of life—as if they were a young mech and femme once more. It was as though they had been reborn, and she knew they, too, would be alright here. This was their small measure of peace, and the thought of bringing them back to the world was banished forever from Catherine’s mind. Instead, she smiled at them, joyful to see them once more.
Then more hands began to touch her, all metal and all sharing the same feelings as the others. She looked and recognized many faces of those they had lost—Gears; Warpath; Jolt; Beachbreak; Knockout; Scattershot; Evac; Roll Bar; Longarm; Brawn; Blazemaster; Nightbeat; Skids; Mudflap; Elita-1. They were all around her, all smiling and happy and content in this place where the woes of the world could not reach them. They filled her with those feelings, and she was not worried for them, either.
Then the others came. They were foreign to her, and yet, at the same time, she felt she knew the thousands upon thousands of hands that touched her, filling her with the warmth and so many thoughts and memories that she wanted to laugh with joy. There was no truly describing how it was to have them around her, but it made her smile grow wide.
It only dared falter when, after she thought all the hands had stopped, twelve more joined. They were different from the rest—they were ancient and deep and wise, and the feelings that came from them were not just the warmth, but of knowledge that spanned the vastness of the Universe and more. It was wisdom of times, worlds, and universes that she never knew existed, yet at the same time, she had known them all along. It was a strange feeling, but it did not make her wary; rather, she accepted it at once, and with it came a great purpose, which pulled her gaze to Jazz, for he had yet to lay his hand upon her. His smile was still on his face and his optics were still bright as they watched her. She found she could feel his spark pulsing as it was if it was her own, and it was then she realized she could feel all of the sparks around her. They all pulsed in time—all as one.
Only when that thought crossed her did the white-armored mech lift his clawed hand and set it gently upon her head. A great fire poured forth from it, but it was not painful; rather, it was cool and tempered the warmth to a manageable thing. It took a shape within her that she could not describe, but felt it encompassing upon her chest. She would not see it, though, for her eyes had closed in the wake of the new sensation, and there was a second new sense—one of falling. The ground beneath her began to waver, but she did not fear. She knew she was returning to the other world; to the place where the others awaited her. She would not be far from her brother, though, or the countless hands which touched her and filled her with their warmth that now rested upon her chest, and so she let the falling take hold.
With a gasp, her eyes opened and the world was filled with light.
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-O-
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Sam yelped when the Matrix grew too hot for him to hold, then shot up and backed away when the artifact burst into a near-blinding array of electrical arcs. Around him, the others cried out in surprise and moved towards Catherine’s prone form to help, but were forced back when the Matrix let off a wave of energy. It was too strong to fight against, but it was not harmful. Rather, they felt a soothing tingle on their skin. It was shocking more than anything else, but it was nothing compared to the sight before them.
The arcs of blue electricity did not spread far from the redheaded young woman’s frame, and were, more often than not, reaching to some part of her body. If anyone feared the arcs might sear her further, it was replaced by amazement as the energy did just the opposite. Instead of blackening the rest of her flesh, it caused the sickening color to turn red and then pink and then a pale flesh color. The cuts on her skin were mended and healed. Her singed hair was revived and reddened. Her hands, which had been hardly more than flaked, black stumps, were now clean and smooth and normal. The Matrix’s work made her look as though she’d never seen the ravages of war.
“What the hell?” someone managed to gasp before the artifact suddenly burst into a blinding, bright light. It was only for a moment, and again the Matrix released a burst of energy that returned the tingling feeling to them. It lasted much longer this time, but whatever effects it might have had were lost in favor of the artifact. The light it had emitted now consumed it; the silver metal that gave it form was now colored a light blue that was even brighter in the center. Seconds later it began to continue to change, the glowing metal shifting and moving and spreading outward and inward, seemingly unable to make up its mind.
Then it created cause for concern, but none could come close as the arcs of electricity prevented them from doing so. Their concern would be again unneeded, as the Matrix’s glowing form pressed into the gash that still remained upon Catherine’s chest. There, the glow flowed into the flesh, turning it as bright and blue as the metal of the Matrix. The light rushed through her veins, turning them bright blue as well. As soon as they reached her temple, her eyes shot open wide, her irises glowing almost white, and then her body arched upward as her mouth opened, gasping for air. The arcs became wild, sparking rapidly and going everywhere; some struck a few people, but only left a small shock, while the rest merely struck the ground harmlessly. All watched in awe, though, as the light-metal began to settle into her skin, the flesh repairing and forming around it. When it finally lost its glow and became flesh combined with metal with a center of light, the arcs ceased. They curved inward and coalesced around the Matrix within her breast and, with a cry like that of a newborn’s first breath of air, a final wave of energy, much stronger than the previous combined, burst from her and swam through the streets and through the bodies of any it touched. This time the people looked upon their hands and arms, and found their flesh tinted a brighter color, watched it mend itself, slowly, but surely, and felt any pain dim until it was as if it had never happened.
The glow in Catherine’s body faded completely, and her flesh was returned to normal. Her eyes, closed upon the wave’s release, opened slowly and were no longer glowing. They were a much lighter shade than before, though, but the only thing else different was the metal infused into her chest. One end curved downward between her breasts, while the other reached toward her left shoulder with the center’s glow right over her heart; right where the gash had been. The skin which had fused to it was a lighter color, but the rest of her was the same; she even had her freckles, which still adorned her cheeks, as dark as ever. She was much the same, although she looked in front of her without real acknowledgement of the world, dazed.
“Catherine!” Sam nearly screamed as he raced forward and wrapped his arms around her tightly. The young woman blinked, confused, but then focus returned to her and she looked at the young man’s head, which was buried tightly into her neck. Her lips curved into a smile and she locked her arms around him, burying her head into his neck, too. They stayed that way for a precious few moments before pulling away and looking at one another.
“Hey, Sam,” the redhead laughed lightly, and the young man did the same as he wiped at his eyes.
“’Cat,” he breathed and the choked on a sob. “Oh, God, Catherine—I’m so sorry! I’m so, so sorry!”
Her smile softened as she took his cheeks into her hands, “What for?”
"For—for getting you killed! For getting you into all this! It was all my fault, and I was an idiot and I said so many awful things to you, and—and I’m just—God, I’m so sorry. I’m such a screw up, and I’m so sorry!” he sobbed, and was only stopped when he felt her forehead press against his. From it came a strange flux of warmth that instantly soothed him and brought his eyes to hers, which were full of only love.
“It’s alright, Sam. Besides, you came for me just like you promised. You’ve always kept your promises, even when you do stupid stuff,” she replied with a laugh before hugging him again, which he returned tenfold. Her eyes lifted up then, and she spotted a particular young, blonde-haired woman watching them with tears, but a smile as well. Catherine’s own smile turned to a grin as she pushed him back. “Thank-you, Sam. For everything. Now, I’m going to do you a favor and let you go hug someone who could use it a lot more than me. And this time… don’t let her go.”
The young man scrunched his brows, but a quick incline of her head turned him to Carly. She looked to him, happy as he was, and he smiled back at her. He turned to Catherine, though, and she nodded, pushing him lightly with her hand. She mouthed “go”, and, hugging her once more, stood and moved towards the blonde. The redhead watched him happily, but could not do so for long—in a matter of seconds another pair of arms were around her, and then another and another, until she swarmed with arms, tears, and laughter that made her do the same. She was just barely able to look into the face of her father, which was stained by tears, although his eyes were bright with joy, and it was an expression shared by Anthony, Jackson, Fig, and Epps, whom couldn’t keep from laughing out of sheer happiness. She did not bother to stop them nor push them away, but rather let them release her slowly and look upon her.
“You’re okay,” Lennox breathed, and she nodded. She was only a little surprised when he hugged her again and whispered, “Don’t do that ever again, you hear me!? You will be grounded forever if you do!”
She giggled, “Alright, Dad. I promise.”
“Damn right you promise, ‘cause I swear to God—if you pull this crap again I am coming in after you and dragging you back kicking and screaming and you are going to do so much conditioning!” Epps added as she pulled away from her father, and she giggled at his words, too. Though he added an “I’m-not-kidding”, he was laughing as he did so and squeezed her arm.
Jackson spoke next, wiping at his face, “You can’t worry us like that, kid. You’re going to turn us all into old farts way before out time!”
“More like send us to our graves! Looks like we got ourselves the new El Maestro de la Muerte!” Fig added as he rubbed her hair roughly and she had to bat him away, just like old times. He did not try again, suddenly overcome with emotion, and had to pull away to wipe at his eyes and keep himself from crying. Catherine left him be, and looked to Anthony, whom had yet to speak. He did not bother to hide his tears and happily embraced her for a brief few seconds before setting his hands on to her shoulders and smiling brightly at her.
“I am going to have so many babies with Sophia,” he told her, and she couldn’t help bursting out into laughter. Though the others didn’t entirely understand the joke, they laughed, too, and teased the Italian man about his choice of words. Catherine didn’t join them, though; her focus turned elsewhere and she moved her gaze about her, taking in it all.
She saw the other soldiers, confused, but relieved, although they weren’t sure why they felt that way. She knew the answer, but only smiled at them as she continued on and found the other Autobots, their optics wide and full of awe. She knew why that was, too, and she also knew why Optimus smiled knowingly as her as he nodded. She found Sam and Carly next, and they were embraced tightly with Bumblebee above them, playing a wedding march tune. She couldn’t help chuckling, and knew there were a great many things ahead of them. There was a great many things for all of them, but that thought fell away from her mind as her eyes found a pair of blue optics that she knew all too well.
“’Cat?” Epps called as she stood up suddenly, but Lennox was the one to stop him, gesturing with his head towards the mech she approached. The black man and those around her became silent as she walked slowly towards the Autobot, whose faceplate was filled with disbelief as he sat upon his knees. The redhead smiled at him the entire way, and once she was beneath him she held up her hands. The silver mech lowered his head into them at once and their forehead pressed together. It was a gentle touch, but to anyone who knew their bond, it was much more. It was more than anyone could know or anyone else would know, and they revered it in a sacred kind of silence that made some look away with the sense it was not their place to watch.
After a long while, she pulled away to look into his optics, smiling gently, “Sideswipe.”
"You’re…. You’re alive,” he spoke at but a whisper, his fingers coming forward to touch her gently; as if she might break before him. She would not, though, and she brought his finger to her cheek, nodding.
“Yeah. I’m alive. I was lost for a while, but then you found me.”
“I promised.”
“I know,” was all she replied before pressing her forehead to his again, and unleashed a power she could hardly wait to show him. To anyone else, all they could see was the glow of the artifact in her chest, but for the silver mech it was much, much more. His optics widened and brightened as he felt a great surge of emotions and thoughts and warmth move through his spark and frame. He knew who it was, but he could scarcely believe it after so long. And yet, he knew it was her and he laughed with such joy that he could not contain it and did not as he sent his own wave to her. He happily scooped her up as well, and brought her close to his chassis, which thrummed louder than ever before, and then to his head so he could press it against hers. She laughed with him and gazed up with love in her eyes, which he returned in kind.
“W-what… what was that?” a metallic voice gasped, and both Catherine and Sideswipe looked upon his brother, whom clutched at his chest, confusion clear in his faceplates. Mech and redhead glanced at one another briefly, and then laughed, which only caused the golden-armored mech to scowl with confusion.
“That, Sunstreaker, was the bond. Our part of it, anyways,” Catherine grinned, and the golden-armored Twin stared at her with surprise. He was blocked seconds later by a group of four winged Autobots which crowded around Sideswipe to reach out and touch their mother in some way. Their words and cries of joy brought more laughter to the redhead, and she touched all their fingers and reached out through the bond they shared. They felt it, too, and their happiness skyrocketed as they returned the gesture tenfold.
“Oh, it’s so good to see you boys, too! And Fireflight, you’re alright? I saw you fall,” she spoke to them, grasping the blue-armored Aerialbot’s hand, causing the Seeker to nearly squeal with excitement.
“I’m fine! I’m fine! Those no good ‘Cons couldn’t hurt me!” he boasted, throwing his chest up high.
“So I noticed,” she giggled. “I’m glad you’re all still here.”
“We promised, didn’t we? We promised we’d stay alive,” Air Raid grinned, brushing his head against hers quickly.
Silverbolt pressed a finger against her hand, “We’re glad you’re alright, too. We thought we lost you, Mother.”
“We were scared. You were gone,” Skydive murmured, his optics downcast. Catherine smiled softly as she reached out with Sideswipe’s help and touched the flier’s cheek. The young Aerialbot met her eyes, and, through the bond, she sent all the comfort she could muster. It worked, and the flier let it take hold so that his optics were bright and his wings raised up high. She reached out to all of them again, allowing their thoughts and emotions to join her own. It was not just them she felt, either.
All around her was the beat and throng of emotions pulsing from each and every Autobot around her, though her children, Sideswipe, and even Sunstreaker—still struck dumb—were much stronger. Regardless, it was a grand mixture that had no means of separating between them all, but she did not need to. She was simply happy to feel it again, though she knew she could not relish in it for long. There was a reason she had returned, and she was intent to follow it even if it meant having her young Aerialbots stand aside, disappointing them. She sent them reassurance through the bond, though, and they respected her wishes, albeit reluctantly.
“Sideswipe,” she spoke, looking up at him, “bring me to Optimus.”
He raised a metal brow, but did as told, rolling over carefully to his commander. The Prime gazed upon them both with reverence, and beamed down upon the redhead. There was a knowing look in his optics, which he shared with her. Sideswipe, too, felt it, and although he did not understand its meaning, he did not question his bond mate.
“Arcee and Springer require your aid,” the Autobot Commander rumbled and turned so that the mech and femme, carried by their Wrecker allies, were visible. They were not much better off than before—First Aid hadn’t enough time nor the materials to properly do so—but they were able to look upon Catherine with the same awe that had affected all the others. They remained as such as they were set down gently and the redhead was lowered to the ground next to them. If they could breathe, they would have held it in as she reached out to Arcee first and touched her crushed abdomen.
At once, the Matrix in her chest lit in a bright light along with her veins and eyes, and from her hands a surge of blue energy pulsed, creating sparks and arcs of lightning all along the Femme’s body. Her optics turned white as her body jerked and began to shift and change. The armor on her waist mended and became solid once more, and any wounds she bore were made to be as if they never existed. Her wheeled leg had a different fate, though; instead of returning to its former shape, it changed into a new one. A split began first at the tire and then slowly made its way up to her waist. As if conjured from the air, the metal on each half extended and curved around into the shape of a thigh, then a calf, and then a foot with a wheel that served as her heel. The process only stopped when the Femme was standing upon her two new feet, and she did so with surprise and a lack of balance at first. She regained it quickly enough and gazed down at her new limbs with disbelief. She was not the only one, either, and only Catherine and Optimus were free of the feeling.
Arcee touched the newly made armor gingerly, “I… they’re… I have… legs.”
“Yes,” the redhead nodded, and the Femme looked up to her. “You are as you once were before the experiment which split you. You are whole again, Arcee.”
“The experiment—but how do you? How is this…I can’t—,” the pink-armored Femme balked as her frame shook, and then collapsed upon her new knees. Leadfoot reached out to help, but found she did not need it. She was not damaged, just overcome, and she released it through a strange laughter that appeared stuck between the disbelief she could not rid herself of and pure joy. Catherine, content with her work, turned her gaze upon Springer, whose optics widened as he realized he was the subject of her attention. He looked away quickly, but the redhead approached him anyways, and he was silent as she touched his chassis.
Like with Arcee, the Matrix lit in a bright glow and a surge emanated from her hands, which then proceeded to course throughout his frame. As before, the surge seemed to form metal out of the thin air, and from the stump that was his left arm a new limb began to take shape. It extends downward, forming an upper and lower arm and a hand, which gained fingers that flexed and curled. His hip, too, was replaced, and all his damaged armor was mended. While Springer had no great change in his form, he still gazed upon his renewed hand as if it were a sacred relic. Catherine grinned at his expression and watched as he crouched beside Arcee and shared his happiness with her, which, in turn, helped her overcome her surprise.
The redhead looked to Optimus, “Time to give you back your arm, too.”
“Not yet. There are others you must help first,” the Autobot Commander rumbled, and pointed with his remaining arm towards the bridge down the street. She followed his gesture and, though it was too far away, she knew he pointed to the fallen form of their comrade. She nodded to the Prime, and, with a silent request through the bond, the silver mech picked her up again, turned, and began to wheel towards the bridge. All optics and eyes followed him. The Autobots did not even hesitate to walk after Sideswipe, Catherine riding atop his shoulder. Her children and Sunstreaker were at their heels, and the rest behind them. Their human comrades, the majority of them confused, followed if only to appease the curiosity that plagued them. Those that already had a notion followed for similar reasons, but also because they would not be parted from the young woman.
Had any of the remaining denizens in the city emerged from their hiding spots, they would have been baffled by the sight of the silver mech with the redheaded young woman upon his shoulders leading the strange group of metal aliens and humans. They might have even gained an urge to follow, but, although the battle was over, they remained within their havens to wait for when they could be assured they would be safe. That was fine for Catherine. In fact, she somewhat preferred to having the small audience as they crossed over the bridge to the raised city structure where the redhead had nearly been witness to a massacre. By a miracle—the source of which she now knew and felt emerging from the river not far away—they had survive, save for one, and it was that one Sideswipe brought her to and set her down on the ground beside. Their following converged around them in a circle, waiting eagerly for answers to the countless questions they had.
Catherine ignored them all in favor of coming up to the still frame of their scientist. His armor was blackened where he’d been shot in the back and chest, and his head remained attached by only slim wires and metal. Energon was pool around him as well, but even the dark spheres that were his optics did not faze her as she placed both her hands upon his side. Closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath of air, she summoned forth the power that was now embedded in her chest. It responded at once and burst forth from her hands. The wave consumed the mech’s entire frame, from the head to the toes, and began to do its work. The armor started to mend and the lost head was pulled to its rightful place. Unlike the others, though, electrical arcs came from the redhead’s body and converged upon Wheeljack’s chest, right where the spark was. There, the energy created an orb of light, which grew in strength as quickly as the body healed.
It took only a matter of seconds, but it may as well as been hours for the crowd as they watched the broken Autobot become whole once more, and his chest became occupied by a bright, light-blue orb, which beat like the hearts and sparks already in their chests. When the arcs faded it was much clearer, and the pulsing became constant until the chassis plates pulled over it, concealing it from them. The sight was replaced soon enough by that of the mech suddenly arching upwards, mouth open as if sucking in air. Wheeljack lurched forward, optics white at first, but quickly regained their normal blue hue. The mech then began to look around wildly with fearful optics. He calmed instantly, however, when he found the redheaded young woman standing beside him.
“Welcome back, Wheeljack,” Catherine spoke gently, and her words served to bring a shine to his optics.
“Ah—yes… I was… I was gone,” he mused, his gaze dropping down to his hands, which he turned this way and that. He frowned briefly, a strange feeling overcoming him, but then he looked back up, optics wide. “But I’m back. And… I… I have much work to do.”
“Yes, but for now, rest. There is still much time ahead of us.”
Wheeljack nodded and eased himself up slowly. Bumblebee moved forward to help him, and he accepted it. By then he was swarmed by a few other Autobots, whom were enthralled by his return and worked hard to make sure he really was alright, which he assured them he was. Catherine, meanwhile, turned away and walked back towards her bond mate, whom crouched down to her level. She leaned against him, glad to finally have a break. Though she was not as strained this time around and no longer needed to electrify herself to gain the power needed, it was tiresome. Already she felt a great need for a nap, but she knew it was not the time for that. There was still much work to be done—still many mechs to heal and the people of the city needed to be helped, not to mention all that needed to be done after that.
“So… you’re the Allspark again?” the familiar voice of one Samuel Witwicky rang, and she turned her head to find the young man standing beside her with Carly just on the other side of him, her fingers clasping his tightly.
She nodded, “Mmhmm. I’ve got the powers back—life-giving and knowledge. I’m the full deal, Sammy.”
“And you’re okay?” her father asked next as he and her teammates, too, came up beside her. “You’re okay with all these people knowing and seeing?”
“This time, yes. It won’t be a secret anymore. The world is going to find out anyways, and it’s how it has to be,” she told them all with a reassuring smile. “But don’t worry; things will work out. And no, Sam, my powers don’t tell me the future. I just… know. Besides, I have all of you to help me.”
Lennox wrapped an arm around her shoulder, “Damn right you do, although you’ll have to help me explain this to your mother.”
“We’ll help you if we can, but whatever the case, we’re behind you, too,” Sam added, locking his fingers around her hand.
“I don’t what all I can do, but I’m in this, too,” Carly stated, and both young women shared a loving smile.
And so are we—me, Sunstreaker, the kids, and the rest of us. You know I always will be, and I’m not letting you go ever again, her bond mate spoke firmly through the bond, widening her smile as she looked up into his optics.
You know we’re with you always, Silverbolt added, and she looked past her father to the find the light-gray Aerialbot and his brothers beaming down at her.
Air Raid smirked, And no way we’re letting you out of our sight!
We’ll know wherever you are now, anyways, so don’t even think about it! Fireflight chimed, wings perking up.
Skydive chuckled, You’re stuck with us, Mom, and you’re just going to have to deal with it.
“I may not get it, but you’re family, so we’re with you,” Jackson stated next, setting his hands on his hips. Beside him, Anthony nodded as he folded his arms.
“You can be damn sure we will. Nobody’s going to mess you except us.”
“Although I would love an explanation at one point, because this is really all over my head,” Fig added, but with a smile so that the others laughed a little.
Epps looked at all of them, and then the redhead, “And I’ll be there, too. I ain’t gonna leave you guys again, neither. You can count on that.”
Catherine smiled, letting them know she wouldn’t have it any other way, both aloud and over the bond. Her teammates, her father, her best friend, and soon-to-be-sister-in-law all beamed happily. The four fliers fluttered with happiness. Sideswipe sent her another flux of affection as he grinned. In the midst of all of them, though, she felt something different—a hidden whisper of agreement that had almost passed by. However, knowing that’d she felt it, she searched for it, and the source stood not far to her left, confusion still etched into his metal feature. She chuckled softly at Sunstreaker’s not-so-terrible turmoil. She was certain he would overcome it soon enough and that it would end well for him. She supposed she could know on her own, but a larger part of her knew it was better to wait for time to pass that judgment, and so let it be. Besides, this was a moment to be happy. The war was over and their healing would begin. Of course, it would not happen quickly, but it did have to start, and she knew just how to do it.
Catherine let out a deep breath of air, “Well, it’s time I showed everyone my final trick.”
“Huh?” was the generally reply all around her as she pulled away from their grip. With a twinkle in her eyes, she turned, gave them a quick wink, and began to walk with purpose towards a small group of soldiers. Her bond mate and children followed her at once, while Sam, Carly, Lennox, and her teammates spared a confused look before hurrying after her, too. A few others noticed—both Autobot and human soldier—and carefully inched their way closer as the redhead walked up to the small group that had created a circle around a comrade of theirs. He was young man, not even in his thirties, and he was dying. A Decepticon’s blaster had nicked his legs, charring and marring the skin, and shrapnel had dug deep into his chest, piercing his lungs. His friends held his hands tightly having finally found him after he’d laid there for some time, all doing their best to relieve his pain.
Catherine said nothing as she lowered herself near the one holding the young man’s hand, surprising the lot of them. They had seen her earlier work, and so stared with wide eyes as she reached out to the interlocked hands and began to break them apart. The soldier next to her meant to resist, but the redhead looked to him and something—he would never know what—made him stop. Instead of continuing to resist he let her move his fingers away and replace them with her left hand while the right reached up to cup the dying young man’s cheek. His brown eyes gazed up at her, hopeful, yet afraid as she smiled gently at him.
“It’ll be alright,” she told him, almost at a whisper, and, despite his weakened state, the young man nodded. She closed her eyes, summoning the power within her chest. It responded at once, and streamed through her veins to her hands, which let off a wave of energy that cascaded across the young man’s body. Her audience gasped as they watched the young man arch up, eyes wide. His wounds, which had spelled the end of him, now lost their meaning as the black flesh turned pink and the wounds healed. Even the blood was erased, save for the stains on his clothes, and any pain was gone. With the process complete his skin ceased to glow, and the young man was whole once more.
“Oh my God,” one of the soldiers breathed as their friend, dumbfounded, leaned up with his hand still clung to Catherine’s. He breathed in deeply and was surprised when it did not send immense flares of pain through his body. Realization hit seconds later, and his eyes shot up to the redhead, whom grinned, pleased with her work. She released his hand then, and he used it to touch his chest first and then his leg, which looked as good as new. He let out a short laugh and looked to his friends, whom were just as shocked. They became even more so when he suddenly shot up, rife with energy, and bust out into laughter. His friends rose seconds later and began to pile upon him, hugging and cheering and crying. Catherine stood as well, and it was then that the young man remembered her work and shoved off his friends to approach her, taking her hands into his.
“Thank-you,” he told her firmly, squeezing her fingers.
She squeezed back, “You’re welcome, but I need a favor of you now. I need you to bring me all the wounded or those who died in this fight and are still mostly whole. Bring them to me. Quickly.”
The young soldier’s eyes widened again as he nodded furiously and took off to do as told. His friends, sparing her a thankful look, followed him to help. Catherine watched them go, shouting for the other soldiers to join them, and then turned to face her friends and family, whom were now more confused than anything else. She smiled secretly to herself, having expected it, and was ready for the inevitable question.
“Catherine… H-how… how did you?” Sam asked, running a hand through his hair while the other gestured in the young soldier’s direction.
“Yeah, I thought… I thought the Allspark’s powers only healed Cybertronians,” her father added, waving at the mechs around them.
“Well, you see,” she began, the Matrix glowing slightly through the tattered parts of her shirt, “Energon isn’t just any form of energy—it’s life. It is the source and the end of it. It’s not perfect, of course. It can’t bring back those who have been dead before this battle, but it can bring back those who have felt death recently and those on their way; both Cybertronian and organic.”
“How do you know all this?” Carly breathed with awe, and the redhead smiled not for the last time that day.
“A... very close friend told me.”
“I see you have already begun,” a new voice mused, and they looked to find Optimus Prime approaching them, his optics watching the soldiers working hard to gather the wounded and recently deceased. His gaze fell to Catherine in the next moment, a hint of concern within them. “Are you certain it is time for this part?”
She nodded, “Yes. The world will know I am the Allspark and what I can do. You and I both know it’s best.”
“Yes, I suppose it is,” he chuckled. “Well, we help you in any way we can. As you told Wheeljack, there is much for us to do—both Cybertronians and humans—but it will be no an easy task.”
“It might just be the most difficult thing we all do, but I’m not afraid,” she replied, looking back at her friends, father, team, children, brother-in-law, and bond mate. She looked upon them with love, and it was returned fully save for one, which was not unexpected. “I have all of you, after all.”
Though they had words to say, they were left unsaid as the soldiers returned with their wounded and Catherine began her work. Her father and Optimus, understanding what was needed of them, began to give orders to the rest of their comrades. They sent them off to begin relaying to the government of their success, and to also search for survivors or any remaining enemy Decepticons while Sam and Carly remained close to Catherine, helping her instead. The redhead and the Autobot Commander had spoken true—there was much to be done, and it began there in the city. Everyone else carried some sense of the notion, and did not hesitate to do as told, although some did pause to gaze upon the redheaded young woman whom worked to heal the comrades they once considered lost or had been, and each one brought back was grateful. They did not look upon her with fear or wariness; there were only thanks in their eyes.
When at last she gained a respite minutes later and was able to look upon everyone there—Sam, Carly, her father, her team, the army and NEST soldiers, and the other Autobots—all working together, it grew hope in her heart. And when she reached to her bond mate and children and then out to the others through the Matrix, any doubts that might have lingered were conquered.
“Yeah, it’s going to be alright.”
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