LOSE YOU

⬵⤁

Warning: Depiction of war. Intense personal medical scenario which may be upsetting to some readers.

⬵⤁

"Nobody can save me now,
No,"

⬵⤁

"We're almost there," Colonel Lennox told his team, the entrance into Darkmount's core only a couple hundred yards away. Vince tightened his grip on his gun, not having used it yet, however something caused the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. His sixth sense screamed at him, and it was as if he was sending a signal to his fellow humans, because it was not long before Lennox opened his mouth to warn the Autobots.

"Guys-"

The doors to the core swished open long before the Autobots reached it, Vehicons stepping forth and pointing their blasters at the intruders.

"Scrap!" Everyone seemed to curse at once, humans launching to the walls for cover whilst Bulkhead and Bumblebee stood their ground, firing back. They took a few steps back, allowing their organic allies to peek around the corners of their hiding spots without risking shooting them, several rifles opening fire.

Vince brought the shotgun to his shoulder, lining up the sights.

The bang left his ears ringing, yet he ignored it to the best of his abilities as he aggressively pumped it, loading a new shell into the chamber. The Vehicons were numerous, the young man too busy to count them as he downed a second one, the butt of the gun digging into his shoulder joint.

"We need to get to the core!" Bulkhead grunted, Bumblebee whirring in what the humans could only assume was confirmation. Colonel Lennox looked ahead, gritting his teeth and looking across the hall towards Vince - or rather, the person behind him.

"Hand me the bag! I'll make a break for it!" He shouted to Miko, who was pressed against the wall. Vince had barely noticed she was there, mostly because he had been the one shooting. Though in her defense, he did not exactly give her room to do her own offensive.

"No way!" She snapped back. Tightening the straps on her backpack, she smacked Vince's shoulder. "I'm much faster, and this is my mission too! Give me cover fire - I'll make it."

"Are you insane?!" Vince hissed, seeing the fire in her eyes.

"Keep shooting," she replied venomously, starting to bounce on her feet. He was going to protest again, but then she was gone, faster than the elder would have given her credit for.

"Miko!!" Bulkhead howled, making to go forward when his armor was once again assaulted by Vehicon blaster fire. It was all he could do to keep his shielding up, but it was rapidly depleting his energon stores. They had to take cover soon.

The girl ducked and weaved down the hall, sliding across the metal and occasionally rolling, which sent Vince's anxiety through the roof every time she abused the explosives. She was not going to make it if she kept treating them in that manner.

Cursing, Vince quickly reloaded his shotgun before bolting after her, his long strides making it easy to start catching up to her. He heard her shriek as blaster fire got a little too close, bringing the gun up and annihilate the helm of the drone. Her pink and black hair flashed in front of his eyes, getting closer and closer with each passing second.

Lennox gave a roar, pushing forward the offensive as well, running into the open and opening fire. Tearing through Vehicon armor he stepped closer, sensing his men follow his lead. There was a dangerous pause where he had to reload, glancing at the running kids, watching Vince bring up his weapon to assault the Vehicons whilst Miko ducked for cover, now almost to the feet of the Vehicon.

Miko slung her backpack off with a skilled shrug of her shoulders, thrusting it past Vehicon feet before she did the same, diving head first to the ground and sliding beneath the drones' pedes.

Already seeing more in her peripheral vision she rolled to her knees, unholstering her pistol and pointing at the Vehicon to her right, taking it out with a clean, adrenaline-filled shot to the helm. She spun, light on her feet, taking out the second Vehicon before swiping her backpack off the floor.

The core was right in front of her, Vehicons surrounding her on all sides. Unlike what she had expected, the crackling energy was exposed, making it very easy for anyone to just . . . hit it.

The buzz on her skin told her all she needed to know, well aware it was the only thing she could do.

"Don't you ever forget my face!" She screamed at no one in particular, wanting her voice to be heard. "Ever!"

With a final shout of victory she threw the bag, shielding her eyes as it connected with the energy.

Vince slid through the Vehicons just as Miko did, coming out the other side and continuing his assault, relentlessly blasting off body parts and spilling energon, looking back as an electric screech, painful to the ears, came from the core. His eyes widened, seeing the explosion before the shockwave blasted him backwards, sending him tumbling amongst the Vehicons.

The next thing he knew was coming to on the floor, his head spinning as his ears rung. Someone was shouting, the ground was vibrating, hands grabbing his arms and rolling him over. Lennox's face filled his vision, mouth moving but no coherent words were coming out. He could tell when the man cursed, his face becoming increasingly red. His body moved closer to the colonel, realizing he was being picked up by Lennox's strong arms. A flash of yellow, with green, the chest against him flinching as a sound verberated through Vince's bones.

"Miko . . ." he croaked, hearing the sound in his own throat but not from his ears.

Lennox's words still came out odd, Vince's ears not able to take the vibrations and adequately turn them into coherent syllables. Yet the man's face was grim, Vince wondering what happened. Surely she had caught the shockwave like he had, thrown back instead of catching the brunt of what happened. Bulkhead was nowhere to be seen, the guardian's actions which would have given away the young woman's condition. However, she was closer to the core than he.

"The core . . ."

Lennox nodded, his hand lightly patting Vince's back. They had done it.

He closed his eyes. Good. We did what we came here for.

Taking a deep breath, Vince let Lennox carry him away, feeling a Groundbridge tingle against his skin and light burn his eyes, the pain in his head causing him to hiss. It wrapped around the front of his brain and to the back, like a thousand needles on each side.

They had done what they needed to do. They succeeded in their mission.

Yet through his disorientation, pain, and deafness, Vince had to wonder: at what cost?

⬵⤁

The medical bay was empty as well, stones settling in Jazz's tanks as they neared the doors to the science center, wondering what exactly he would find there. He did not want to imagine what Megatron had done to his protegeé, or see it, however Mirage needed out of there. He would free him, no matter what.

The doors opened at the presence of his EM field, greeting him to the sight of a sterile lab. The smell, though, informed him the lab was far from it, the razor scent of aged energy hitting his olfactory sensors relentlessly.

"Sir . . ."

He turned at approximately the same time the human spoke to him, time seeming to slow as dead silence permeated the air. There was a moment of shock, horror, then Jazz pitched forward.

Epps had never seen a Cybertronian vomit before, jumping back whilst Jazz purged his tanks in front of them. Half-processed energon mixed with the dried crystalline puddles on the floor, the remnants of what had been Mirage.

From the human perspective, even this was too much. The mech had been stripped to his bare parts, what were his "bones" exposed to the unforgiving air, his empty optics black holes in a face filled with agony. What Epps originally thought was a third eye was in the center of his head, yet upon closer inspection he realized it was a bullet hole.

A human gun had shot him straight in the helm.

Horror filled his veins when he could only draw one reasonable conclusion, yet the image simply did not fit. There was no way Jack would-

Another look, and he could understand. If Mirage was in so much agony, without any reasonable rescue in sight, he would take death as a relief over anything else. Epps would have too.

Jazz stood on shaking knees, wiping his mouth and gazing at the offlined mech painfully. His own frame ached at the idea of what he had gone through, his processor already concluding who had put him out of his misery. He could not be mad at Jack for the decision he made, a twisted sense of comfort coming from the fact the human at least found Mirage, perhaps even wanted to rescue him.

His tanks churned still, the precision of every cut, the clean removal of the armor, left only one suspect for who had done this to him.

"We need to take him home," Epps said aloud, trying to say something that would snap Jazz out of his shock. "Get him to Cybertron."

The mech had seen many things. He had seen bloodier, worse-off mechs than even this. Yet this made his servos shake uncontrollably, phantom pains going through his frame at even the idea of handling exposed struts. It was no longer hurting Mirage, yet he could only imagine what it would feel like.

"Jazz . . ." Epps cringed.

"I . . . I can't," he said, his tanks empty, and yet he wished he could purge again. "It's too much . . ."

There was a moment of pause, then the lights flickered.

"Woah, woah, woah!" Epps slapped the light of his helmet on as they were suddenly plunged into total darkness, the power of the entire Darkmount base completely destroyed. With the loss of power, however, came the loss of Mirage's restraints.

The mech slid downward with a horrendous shriek of metal on metal, collapsing in an unceremonious heap at their feet. His lifeless face gazed at Epps, sending chills down across his entire body and activating his fight-or-flight response.

"We can get him later," he decided, trying not to let on that he was about to scream. "The core's been blown to bits, we should make sure nobody else needs our help!"

Jazz looked even more reluctant to leave his friend, his spark tearing in two at the thought of just . . . abandoning him.

But if they won, they could come back, and give Mirage the burial he deserved.

The Autobot first lieutenant knelt down, gently touching the top of Mirage's helm. It was a silent promise that he would come back, that he would not allow for further desecration of his body. Glowing eyes looking at his group of humans, he nodded.

"Then we take Darkmount," he hissed. "And we destroy the Decepticons, once and for all!"

⬵⤁

Optimus spun as purple blaster fire shot past him, weaving through combatants as he lured Megatron away from the battlefield. Starscream's processor assaulted him with a plethora of information, pulling up various possible maneuvers and showing him each outcome's potential for success. If he did not have the second consciousness to sort everything for him he would have been severely disoriented, focused on flying throughout the battlefield.

They both had the same idea, and goal in mind: get the Star Saber, at whatever cost they could.

Megatron snarled as Starscream - Optimus Prime - made his way to the flight deck, appearing as if he was intending to land. He blasted forward, catching up within the span of a few seconds. Not hesitating he transformed, slamming into his enemies and gripping the Seeker's wings, forcing Optimus to transform as they hit the ground together, rolling into the main control room of Darkmount

Somebody shrieked, the pair of titans wrestling. Megatron, naturally, was able to use his mass to his advantage, settling on top, but Optimus had knocked him off plenty of times before.

Placing a slim ped against his chest he forcefully shoved him off, sending him flying into Darkmount equipment. Everything was abnormally dark, Optimus standing to see the core was no more.

"Excellent. Things are going to plan."

Ignoring Starscream's satisfied, verbal smirk, Optimus returned his focus to Megatron, who was recovering from the kick and unsheathing his sword. Not hesitating Optimus pointed his missile at the mech, firing as soon as he was lined up for the shot. The tyrant dodged, tucking and rolling to his feet with as much grace as the saber against his back would allow, growling as he too saw the core was destroyed.

A second missile did not give him time to ask questions, lunging towards Optimus as he continued with those cowardly tactics, finding them more befitting of the traitorous frame which he resided in. Optimus met him, avoiding his sword with more grace than the dictator gave him credit for, snarling as sharp claws raked across his side and a fist hit a soft spot in his armor. Of course his fighting style was only further accentuated by Starscream's sleek frame. Though Optimus had less bulk than Megatron, and thus had speed against him, he still was, himself, a large mech. Starscream never liked kicking, or punching, as any slight dent to his frame or thrusters could affect his flying; naturally, the Prime had no instinctual second thoughts on the idea.

He swiped again, trying to learn Optimus' and Starscream's combined fighting styles before he was left vulnerable, increasingly frustrated as the mech continuously evaded him.

Optimus leaped back, then flew forward, fist cracking against Megatron's helm, forcing him to take a few steps back to recover. The Decepticon snarled, reaching out to take hold of his helm, likely to hold him still before he decapitated him.

Grabbing his wrist, the Prime tugged him forward while simultaneously spinning away, the motion fluid and only lasting a few seconds. His back hit Megatron's, and he brought his legs over and used him like a board, rolling across him. Clawed digits gripped the hilt of the Star Saber, the blade glowing brightly as it was freed from its prison.

Megatron whirled, just in time for his blade to meet that of another, the Star Saber so bright it almost hurt his optics.

"Impossible!" He howled. "Starscream would never be worthy of being a Prime!"

Optimus narrowed his mismatched optics. "He has shown more worthiness of holding the Matrix of Leadership than you ever would, Megatron."

Pushing back, he shoved the dictator back, turning the Star Saber as the Decepticon stepped back and swung again, blocking his blow with the flat of the blade. The blow glow made his spark falter, yet Starscream was already working on "lockdown," taking the memories threatening to assault the Prime and tossing them aside. Lines of code blocked the trauma, keeping it at bay whilst he focused on defeating the one who had caused his frame and spark so much pain.

No more. No more of this.

Twisting the blade in both servos he swung, Megatron coming to meet him. The massive blade cut through his sword with so much ease it was alarming. Megatron stared at the chrome metal as it flew through the air, unable to believe his optics.

Using the momentum of his swing Optimus spun, slamming the blade straight into Megatron's chest, straight through his spark.

The choked gasp was brief, shock overtaking the dictator long before any pain could be registered. He gazed down at the blue blade, servos touching the sharp edge. Warmth pooled in his intake and poured out of the corner of his mouth, the dark energon dripping down his chin, splinking onto the armor. It was the only sound in the silence for an agonizingly long time, Optimus just as shocked at the ease in which it happened.

"No . . ." Megatron's voice gurgled from the energon in his throat. "No . . . I had won. You were defeated . . . this is not how it is supposed to end."

Optimus gazed at him, his spark aching at the finality of it.

"On the contrary, Megatron," he said softly. "I could not have it end any other way."

Claws and blunt, black digits gripped at the sword desperately, yet each one became weaker by the second. Vermillion optics dimmed, joints locking up for a swift few seconds as death swept over the frame. No other words were spoken by the dictator, who slid from the Saber and to the ground. The thuds of his armor hitting the floor echoed throughout the chamber, Vehicons and Knock Out staring in the permeating silence. No one dared to even breathe, Starscream quiet as Optimus stood straight, a single servo gripping the hilt as he held it upside down, tip pressed into the floor.

"Megatron is no more," he said, his voice still soft, holding little authority and yet he held the attention of every Cybertronian in the room. "Surrender now, and be spared."

"I-I surrender!" Knock Out held his servos up, nearly shaking from helm to toe. "I surrender to you!"

One by one, each Vehicon also held up their servos, Optimus looking around the establishment, finally nodding.

Turning his back to them, he strode towards the flight deck, allowing himself to stand at the edge, allowing all to see him - the victor. The Star Saber glowed brightly, its blue light bathing him copiously.

He raised it above his head, grimacing at the purple energon which coated it, however little needed to be said.

They won.

At a painful, incorrigible cost.

⬵⤁

June held her boy's hand, his skin cold, yet pink, wires hooking him up to more machines than any human should reasonably have. The cycle of his ventilator, as well as the steady beep of his heart monitor, were the only sounds in the entire room. She had run out of words long ago, and her tears had since dried. Her heart ached all the same, wishing there was something she could do.

The ER staff had done everything they could given the circumstances, but Jack's scans had shown the worst. Outside of the multiple rib fractures, the obvious lacerations which peppered his skin and the deep tissue damage each round of abuse had caused, his brain was all but dark. He had been without oxygen for long enough that many areas ceased to function, kept alive only by machines and what was left of his brainstem.

Her boy was gone.

The results had brought her to her knees. She had cried, screamed, begged with God or Primus or whoever would listen to her, that maybe he could wake up, maybe everything would be okay. Even if it was not, surely with enough therapy, time, and motherly love she could make him whole again.

It took a long time before her nursing voice kicked in, breaking through the delusions and informing her that no such miracles were possible. As much as she wished to never see Jack wheeled in through the ER doors, fate just laughed in her face - and now she was making the most difficult decision of her life.

So she held his hand, wanting as much comfort as she could give him in his final moments. The nurse on the other side of him waited patiently, her eyes downcast as she allowed June to say when. It would be quick, painless, they promised. He will not feel a thing, if he could even feel anything at all.

It was for the best, she kept telling herself. It was what she would have wanted had their positions been reversed. Jack would suffer no more, physically, mentally, or emotionally. He would be okay.

June continued to stroke his hand, gently touching his hair with her free fingers, offering him comfort even if he could not feel it. She wanted him to know it was okay to be scared, she was there now. Mommy is here.

After a long, painful silence, she nodded to the nurse. "Okay," she whispered, her voice cracking from renewed anguish and past abuse.

In return all she received was a nod, careful hands picking up the IV and sliding the needle inside, plunging the contents into the sterile water. Jack's body did not react, yet June leaned in anyways, murmuring into his ear.

"I love you, Jack," she said, her eyes stinging as more tears gathered in them, running down her cheeks. She rested her head against his. "Forever and always."

Out of her line of sight the nurse quietly shut off the machines, the sounds dying away until there was only the whisper of fabric to indicate anyone was there. June kept stroking his hair, knowing full well the concoction of painkillers were allowing him to pass in peace.

"I love you, Jack," she repeated, wanting him to know that, if he could hear her, he was not dying alone. It was the only thing she could give him, as much as it tore into her chest and broke her heart.

The nurse stepped out of the room, likely to inform the attending physician that it was time. June just stayed there, wanting to wait for as long as she could, just to make sure she did not leave Jack alone. She rested her head on the edge of the table as her emotions swept her back up into a miserable frenzy, pressing against her lungs and spiked through her heart, tearing her apart from the inside.

The last of her family was gone, deceased, and it would be a long, long time before she could recover.

It would be a long time for them all.