[ti]Ep 2.5[/ti]Without Someone - Raf and Bluestreak (Closed)

[Feldspar]

Chauncey's small, tattered self was reflected in the pale blue glass of Bluestreak's slightly mismatched optics.

Even the true weirdness of that moment didn't seem to get through to the unconscious mech. It was also possible that the silver Autobot already had a date to Space Prom and was just feigning sorta-death this so that he didn't have to let the Furby down.

The tall harpoon that remained in Bandit's hands was also inert and silent. The hooks had retracted into it. It was well-balanced; if he wanted to lean back and toss it out into the desert, it would likely fly a good long distance.

The tiny lights that had been blinking on it were shut off.

If there had been tracking beacon it was likely not doing so any more.

As the screen shadowed, Raf would be able to see the timer...

It had stopped instantly and reverted to zero. There was no longer a blinking counter, it was static and still, as if if was one of those weird moments when you were sitting in a movie theater watching a spy film and someone yelled "cut the red wire" to the tuxedo-clad man.

Underneath Raf's sneakered feet, Bluestreak's frame was still and silent. However, there was this weird feeling that was slowly rising, that would probably raise the hair on the boy's arms.

It was almost like the sensation that the boy was standing too close to a high-voltage electrical tower. His laptop screen glitched slightly and then went back to showing the zeroed timer.

[Bandit]

Bandit looked between the still unconscious Autobot and the human child, and at the spear thing still in his hand. "I'm keeping this. I'm sure you don't mind. It's hideously primitive of course, but you can't fault its effectiveness, can you?"

He looked over at Chauncey Pilkington still swooning over the Autobot. The corners of Bandit’s mouth turned down slightly -- he was never going to hear the end of it. When Chauncey Pilkington fell, Chauncey Pilkington fell hard.

Bandit crouched beside Bluestreak, optics scanning the still open wound that the weapon left. Nasty looking -- he’d need a proper medic for that. Bandit could disable a weapon keeping him unconscious, but when it came to wound care, he was not the go-to mech. Still, the Autobot could come to any moment now.

The thief looked back at the still-concerned Rafael. “His systems need time to recover from the trauma and reboot. I think he’ll probably be fine, though. I’d be real interested to know how you came to be out here in the middle of nowhere with a wounded Autobot. You’re not a human prince or something, are you?”

Chauncey Pilkington murmured sweet nonsense nothings to Bluestreak, most of which are not fit for translation.

Bandit stood up and rested the heft of the human-made disruption weapon on his shoulder and looked over at Raf. "Now. About my fee."

[Raf Esquivel]

Raf was still caught up in the feeling that nothing that was going on was really real. It might have been the heat bearing down on him in his long pants and sweater vest, or it may have been a gentle sort of shock settling in after the fear of the battle and being discovered had risen and fallen. Either way, he kept telling himself that this was really happening, and he needed to pay attention.

“I’m out here....it’s a very long story,” Raf said, brushing his wild hair back from his face. The light layer of sweat made it stick up even worse than normal, “We got caught in a fight with M.E.C.H. At least I think it was M.E.C.H. First there was a Decepticon, and then there was....whatever they were. Then Soundwave showed up and just sort of....teleported us here? Only I didn’t know where here really was, and I was worried we were going to be discovered - “

Bandit’s question caught up to him, and he shook his head, “Oh, no, I’m not a prince, no. I’m a schoolkid. From Jasper.” Raf never thought to consider how this didn’t really exclude him from being a prince in some manner, but before he even got that chance, Bandit’s other question caught him off guard.

“Uh....fee?”

He stood on the dusty gravel alongside Blue and a lovestruck Furbyesque thing, peering up at Bandit with wide brown eyes behind oversized glasses.

“I don’t really have much money on me....how much do you want?”

[Bluestreak]

Voices.

They were muted and indistinct, stretching and changing like headlights on a distant highway.

Almost like he was underwater.

He'd done it more than a few times. Mostly after he'd tried to figure out how surfing would possibly work. It was one thing to try it with your avatar. Another to clamber out into the water as a Cybertronian and hesitate, hip deep in the currents, wondering if you would sink or possibly swim. Most of the Autobots wanted as little to do with water as possible. Deep and dark, a place of absolute unknowns with strange creatures that had never set a foot on any shore, as varied and distant as all the worlds in the galaxy.

He tried lifting his hand, raising his arm. Nothing. He couldn't feel his fingers, or his hand, or even any part of his body. There was a weird silence in his head, an empty space that was normally filled with the constant background processing of his systems going about their daily business, or his own thoughts nervously chattering on and on to fill the silence.

He couldn't feel anything.

Well, that wasn't good. That was bad. Terrifyingly bad. His brain wailed in silent distress.

Fear crashed down like a wave, but it wasn't water. A roaring wall of debris that once had spanned a roadway but now had crashed down into the chasm, taking him and everything else with it. He struggled, trying to pull himself back from the flattening walls of ruin that surrounded him. Red-hot girders crossed each other, the smell of them acrid and hot. Ash swirled into his systems, curling into every cranny, every bend in his plating, solidifying slowly in his joints and crusting his optics.

Bluestreak's optics shuttered as if to reflexively blink the nasty substance away and then opened. He found himself with no crushing spaces around him. Instead, there was grey tarmac, scrubby brush and rock, and then there was...

What is that?

Ragged fur blended with smoke-stained metal. A pair of bright blue eyes stared directly into his, wide and utterly alien.

A low, ragged noise groaned out of Bluestreak's throat. His voice was raspy and stuttered out of him. "Where- what?"

Wait, no, he'd been-

He'd been shot, he'd been shot by MECH. The ambush. The Decepticons. That horrible burst of pain in his back. It all came flooding back with an explosion of pain in his lower back that hadn't been there before this. All of his relays were coming on line, everything felt electric and bright and hot. His optics flashed, the glow of his mismatched blue eerily bright and frantic under the brim of his helm. remembered that moment that felt like a year ago for some terrible, weird reason. He struggled to move his head, gulped, and only managed to lift it for a second before his helm thunked to the asphalt and dirt beneath him.

All he could take in was this creature that sat and stared fixedly into his optics.

"Oh no wait a second wait a second, there was MECH and now there's this- you? Are you a you? I don't know what you are, where's my rifle, please don't let me have lost my rifle, I can't- I can't - oh, no, there it is, sorry about that, right, gotta refocus Bluestreak, gotta refocus, uh, okay back to the what happened there was MECH and I heard Raf and there were Decepticons and ugh, that one she's a freaking crazy idiot with her lock and load weapons, maybe that's what did - ugh, Raf, I gotta get Raf out of here, this is- Odessa? Raf, we have to get out of here, let MECH and the Decepticons have each other I don't care, we-"

His rambling voice crackled and stuttered before words burbled out of him again.

"You- I... I wow, you're still here, aren't you?" he said to the creature in front of him.

"Huh. Am I here? Wait, I'm not, am I," he mumbled. "I'm dead. I'm dead. Oh. Okay. I expected Primus to look a lot different, I really did. Hullo. Well, okay, I get it, all the messes I've been in, I probably need to apologize for something. Or at least repent something. Let me know, sorry about that."

[Bandit]

Chauncey Pilkington whispered, whispered so low that only Bluestreak could hear the crystal clear voice that came from the malformed Furby's slightly melted beak.  

"The Golden City is vacant, and all the angels are here.  We will rule eternal from the osseous throne." 

The thing then uttered a series of buzzing syllables while its little eyes rolled up in its head, ending with a "BRUUP," like some kind of punctuation.

Bandit looked somewhat incredulously at Raf as the youth looked up at him, expressing remorse from his lack of funds.  ".... kid, relax, I was kidding.  Rule one is you cannot take me that seriously, you'll hurt yourself.  Oh, look, your friend is awake."

Bandit crouched beside Bluestreak.  "Hey, morning, champ.  You are in fact alive.  You're welcome.  I mean, you do still have a gaping wound in your frame, so don't move too terribly much, but you're alive.  Your friend here was worried about you."  He nodded his hooded head toward Raf.  

"So.  You have a way home from here?  I don't know if I'd try transforming with that wound, not until you get it looked at by a medic."

[Raf Esquivel]

Raf had still been trying to figure out how he was going to pay Bandit, including just what he would want as payment – he didn’t know if Bandit would want actual American money or not – when he heard Bluestreak speaking.

To Raf, it was a sound that brought instant relief. The simple fact that Blue was talking again was a good sign, and the fact he was sounding like himself was even better.

Seconds after Bandit spoke to the sniper, Raf moved over and stood looking into Bluestreak’s face.

“Bluestreak! You’re ok! Oh, thank goodness....I didn’t know what had happened or what to do! I thought...I thought...”

Raf ran small hands down over his face, wiping away sweat and the buildup of fear and anxiety that had continually been climbing in his chest since the entire fight had broken out. He took a deep breath, letting that out too, his small frame relaxing some. He still felt wired, but worlds better just knowing Bluestreak was awake and aware.

Raf nodded again to Bandit’s words, “You’re hurt, Bluestreak. We have to get you back to the base, so Ratchet can look at you. Can you get ahold of them? Maybe they can send a bridge here, help you back?”

He was pretty sure that Cybertronians didn’t have to worry about losing their signal, at least not as easily as his cellphone did.

[Bluestreak]

Heat wavers rippled off the pavement.

The small human toy remained where it was, wide eyes half lidded as it seemed to watch him.

It had to be the ringing in his head. He was hearing things, a whisper as dry and crumbling as the hot pavement under his palms. It was soft and sibilant. A golden city? What city was that? Am I thinking of Iacon? Why am I thinking about Iacon right now, it's not even a city I spent much time in at all, but I guess that's the closest to a golden city. It's vacant. Who rules eternal.

The Decepticons are trying.

His thoughts were high on that bridge holding a delivery in his hands that didn't matter any more. A thing meant for someone else who was no longer there, no longer existed. All that was left was an address and a name, and he couldn't remember it. Which was weird, he'd remembered it all these years, all this time and he couldn't remember it. He couldn't.

Carly.

No, that wasn't it. Oh Primus that wasn't it at all, but...

He pulled that name tight, held onto it as his mind groused about the dull, throbbing ache in his head. His main relay systems felt as if someone had stuck a thousand needles in them that were slowly being pulled out one by one. The sensation flooded the silver mech from mid-section to fingertips right before an unfamiliar mech was eyeing him, and then a second after that, Raf's tousled head came into view. The boy looked a little worse for wear, but not badly injured, just - well, shaken up. Which was to be expected.

What had happened?

"I don't want to rule eternal," he mumbled suddenly. "Nope, that's a Decepticon thing, sorry, I'm pretty good just being me and not ruling anything except maybe a really good wave, but that would require a lot more skill than I've got, and oh. Okay. Not dead but I think something's really scrambled, but Raf, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, I'm okay, promise. Also, trust me, you did more than I did in all this mess. You did great. I- I did not so great but you're right. I mean, you're both right. Let me see if I can call. Pretty sure I can, though. Hang on..."

Slowly, he pushed an arm under himself and began to lever himself up. The strange mech was looking at him from under- was that a cloak? Whoa. Okay. That was different. So was the rest of him. Bluestreak didn't recognize him at all. There was a second of awkward panic as he looked at the blue-green mech, searching for a sigil. He didn't find one, and a look of sheepish confusion settled across his features.

"Also, thank you? Did you get us here? I- I'm sorry, I don't know your name?"

He paused and slowly eased himself up to an awkward sit, wincing as he finally managed to rest the bulk of his weight on the palms of his hands. His fingers were curled around the stock of his rifle as if to brace himself.

"Yeah. I feel that gaping wound. Can't say I like it too much, but I liked being knocked out a whole lot less. I'll uh, try not to move too much, guys. I'll take alive. Alive is good. Alive is really really good."

[Bandit]

"Ah!  Right, where's my manners.  I'm Bandit.  Just a humble traveler that happened upon Raf and an unconscious Autobot."

Bandit reached over and snatched up Chauncey Pilkington, hiding the besotted contraption in the folds of his cloak.  "We pulled a big human-built harpoon out of your midsection.  So one thing I'm dying to know -- how did you two end up out here?  We're pretty close to the middle of nowhere.  Raf said someone teleported you out here, but why?"

"Also, I wouldn't transform until you get that wound looked at.  Hopefully your bunch actually has a medic."  He frowned to himself.  Tachyon's operation in Australia had many issues -- not the least of which was the lack of a medic or medical equipment. 

It was amazing that that particular Autobot cell didn't implode and catch fire far sooner than it actually did.

"Well!  What now?  Do we all just stand here until I get bored and awkwardly walk away?  Because I'm not going to lie, boredom is starting to scratch at the door.  It's nothing personal.  I'm just a fidgeter."

[Raf Esquivel]

The relief that Raf felt continued as Bluestreak started to talk. He was sounding more and more like himself, and that made Raf feel even better still. It wasn’t just the fact that Blue was ok now, wasn’t in danger of dying, but that he seemed like he was mentally ok. And that meant, to Raf, that he could stop worrying about what to do, how to deal with things. He was a gifted child, and far more mature than most his age, but he was still a 12 year old. It was natural for him to step back and let adults take control of things, even adults who were giant alien robots from another planet. Raf could relax his guard now, could step back a little, and breathe.

Listening to Bandit and Blue talk, and ask questions, Raf felt relieved that he could offer something else to what was going on – clarity.

“No...when the Decepticons showed up, and then M.E.C.H, you were harpooned with that thing, Blue. It stuck in you and you got...sort of electrocuted....” Raf frowned faintly, remembering how the shock had travelled into his small form as well, making it feel like he had lightning in his brain, making his skin feel itchy and weird. “...and you were knocked out cold. I was trying to wake you up, trying to get that thing out of you, but it was too big and heavy, but I managed to hack into it, and I think I got some information about what it was? Screenshots and everything, but I think it was going to shut you down for good maybe, I don’t know, everything was happening so fast.”

Raf took a deep breath, “But then Soundwave showed up! And he started making all these portal things and people started disappearing into them. I guess he made the one that appeared underneath you, and we sank down into it, I came too because I didn’t want to leave you alone, and we ended up here in the middle of nowhere with no cellphone signal, and I was starting to panic because I saw headlights, but it was Bandit, and he got the harpoon thing out of you, but I don’t know what’s going on with that Furby thing.”

Raf fell silent, trying to catch his breath, slightly red faced, from both the heat and the literal parade of words that just came tumbling out of his mouth. He was faintly trembling with a backwash of adrenaline.

He turned and looked at Bandit again, blinking owlishly, “I have a friend like that. Her name’s Miko.”

[Bluestreak]

Bluestreak concentrated for a moment. There was a hiss of static that rattled through his head as he tried opening up his comm-link to the Autobot base. He looked down at Raf with a touch of frustration and then tried again. Oh, there. That might have gone through. He was pretty sure it had. Hopefully Bulkhead was the one manning the bridge for today; the big mech was always straightforward about getting folks back and letting the questions happen later. He had no doubt there would be a whole lot of those when he and Raf got back.

"Bandit," Bluestreak said, even as he struggled to get his feet under him and stand up.

It was weird where his mind went to right now. Well, that was par for the course on Bluestreak's brain, it wandered a lot of places and didn't have a tight turn radius. However, right now it was still stuck on the absence of a visible sigil on the mech, tied in with the fact that he'd said unconcious Autobot. A neutral then? He hadn't really met any on Earth, and back home on Cybertron? Sure, he'd met them. He'd passed by them in the streets, struggling to go about their daily lives in the presence of the factions. Mechs who didn't want any part of the war except to get out from under it, and that had been difficult at best.

I wonder how he gets by...

He was so glad he hadn't blurted his question out loud. As rattled as he was right now, it wouldn't have surprised him, but it sure would have embarrassed him. Like anything else does, Bluestreak. You find a way, I guess. Well, he's not a Decepticon. They would have finished me off if given a chance like this, or taken Raf into custody. At least he seems on the up and up at least and helped us out, which is pretty interesting for a guy named Bandit wearing a cloak and stuffing weird toys into it.

A few more tries and he rolled himself to his feet. The tall silver mech braced himself awkwardly. His knees trembled and creaked before they finally locked. Would be embarrassing if he fell in front of Raf and Bandit. Even worse if he fell and hurt either of them. He wasn't a huge Autobot, but he wasn't a small one, either, and certainly Bandit wasn't going to be catching him if he swooned over.

"I won't transform, don't think I really could anyway even if I wanted to, but yeah, I'm grateful we have an incredible medic. Thank you," he offered again and then looked around him with a puzzled glance. "I-"

I don't know, I really don't know how we ended up here.

His hand lifted and scrubbed at the side of his chevron, started to say something and then went quiet and didn't interrupt as Raf spoke. Out of the two of them, Raf had been aware and awake throughout the entire mess and could hopefully explain it to him as well. Which would be nice. As the story spilled out, the silver Autobot blinked a few times.

Okay, well, he'd remembered M.E.C.H, and one particular obxnoxious Decepticon, that was for sure. They deserved each other. Sort of electrocuted, yeah, he sure felt like it had... and wait, did he say shut me down for good, that's terrifying, it's bad enough knowing something hit me from behind and knocked me out, but it's worst knowing that M.E.C.H can possibly shut us down permanently? Have they figured out that much of our technology, and if they figured that out? What else can they do to us all, they are progressing fast? Humans are smart and adaptable, a little more than we are a lot of the time but, ugh, how are we going to be able to stop this, I mean how do you even start to- wait, Soundwave?

A tiny shudder arced along Bluestreak's main relays, and the doors behind his shoulders twitched. Not a mech he himself ever wanted to be that close to. The Spymaster was not only a dangerous information gatherer, but he had the fearsome and well-earned reputation as a close-combat fighter. That slender build wasn't to be underestimated, and Bluestreak was perfectly content to stay as far, far away as possible.

Portals?

He came because he didn't want to leave me alone?

Bluestreak looked down at Raf, utterly grateful.

Furby thing? Dunno what he's talking about but maybe it's part of those screenshots he got. That's great, he got information, that's amazing, that can help us out a ton. It can help the Autobots, that's for sure.

"Well, at least it was Bandit, here, and not Decepticons," he started to say. "That's good, it all worked out, but hmmm I guess they used a bridge to get us out then," he said as he lifted his chin and glanced between Bandit and Raf.

" Yeah, Miko is busy," he agreed. "Huh. I still can't figure out why the Decepticons didn't just dump us into their brig, or teleport us somewhere where they can pick us up and get rid of us?"

Warily he glanced down the empty road.

[Bandit]

Bandit shrugged as noncommittally as someone who had only a vague interest and understanding of how these two ended up in front of him could manage.  "Don't ask me why Decepticons do what they do.  'Rar, oppression, rar, revolution, rar, war crimes, rar, how dare you blow up my ugly bridge you rusted tunnel rat, rar, eep run away, rar, teleport these randoms away.'"  Bandit made what he was sure was a helpful 'rar' face.

"That said, if you do have a ride, that's a thing you should probably get on.  I mean, if they were trying to dump you into a trap, they would probably have shown up by now.  So we could, I don't know, camp.  Roast marshmelons over a fire.  Sing human mating songs.  Whatever you natives do."  He looked to Raf for some kind of recognition or just a hint that he was right about what humans did when they camped. 

Bandit tapped his chin thoughtfully.  "I've watched some human documentary vids on the subject and I understand that's what you guys do on camping trips.  The marshmelons, the singing.  Then some masked human with a hook instead of a hand starts stalking and killing you in ridiculous ways.  We should skip that part." 

Bandit looked at Raf.  "Yours is a violent species that loves eating valuable poison."

"But!  I wouldn't recommend camping," he said loudly and suddenly.  He looked pointedly at Bluestreak's open wound.  "Because you have a gaping hole in your midsection and you might leak to death."

[Raf Esquivel]

Raf turned his attention from Blue to Bandit and back, as if he were watching a tennis match. He went from concern for Blue, to confusion over what Bandit was saying, back to confusion.

It was actually a little tiring.

“I’m not sure why Soundwave did what he did,” Raf said quietly, “But you can be sure he had a reason. I don’t think Soundwave does anything without a reason.”

Raf found himself blinking up at Bandit as the other Cybertronian started with the “Rar”-ing. He just stared, feeling confused, with what was almost a faint sense of having been insulted in some way.

Every Cybertronian Raf had encountered, even fun-loving and his best friend Bee, acted more....mature than this individual. They were an alien species! They could travel distances that humans couldn’t even really think about! They were advanced, and powerful, and amazing....and here was an individual going “rar” and mispronouncing words like marshmallow. He didn’t know if Bandit were just talking that way, didn’t understand the difference, or if he were being talked down to.

Raf had experience with being talked down to by adults. And while normally he accepted it silently, he was starting to get more and more irritated with it.  He understood that bandit probably had a right to do so....he understood more things than Raf probably ever would.

But all the same, Raf was starting to grow more and more tired of it.

He squinted slightly at Bandit from behind his glasses for a second, before responding, trying to remain diplomatic and not wanting to give offense. Just in case Bandit wasn’t trying to talk down to him.

“That’s...er...not exactly what really happens, no. And we don’t eat poison....at least not intentionally...”

Raf looked up at Blue, his brown eyes now watchful and worried behind his oversized glasses, “Bandit is right though, Blue. You can’t stay here, you’re hurt! And someone could come along and see you. But you can’t transform like that. Did...did you try to reach the base?”

Raf wasn’t sure if Blue could transform or not, but he was pretty certain having such a large injury? It wasn’t a good idea to transform, folding in on yourself.

He also didn’t want to worry Blue, but a thought had suddenly come to the youth while he stood there.

If Soundwave had put them there....maybe he was planning on coming back for them?

They really had to get back to Omega.

[Bluestreak]

Bluestreak eyed Bandit and then attempted to chuckle at the rar-moment, because really, that sort of summed up all Decepticons in his book. Owch, no laughing. Laughing hurt right now, but not as much as he'd expected. Gingerly he stretched and shifted his weight. Diagnostics lit up in the corner of his vision, but none of them appeared life-threatening, just ugly prickles of feeling as his relays came back on line. The leak was slowing. One hole was a whole lot better than multiple ones. Well that was depending on the size of the holes, like one big one that took off his head or a standing in front of a rail gun would basically do the same thing. Why was he thinking about this, why was he - wait, hold on, wasn't that supposed to be marshmallows? He was sure for some dumb reason it was marshmallows, not melons. Didn't they make them over firepits in the backyard? Maybe he was wrong, it had been a day and he didn't watch the yard fix-ups as much as he did the house ones...

The rest of it went right over his head. He opened his mouth, lifted his hand, and all his normal rush of words didn't happen as Raf spoke up. He was right though, Soundwave did nothing without a reason. Usually they were bad reasons that involved a lot of people dying and those weren't his favorite reasons, not in the slightest. Bluestreak remained politely silent and let Raf deal with Bandit for a moment.

Crud. His commlink was still crackling and popping like a fire, but it was smoothing out. As were the diagnostics.

"I can transform," he said after Raf had finished. "Honest. Comm's still weirded out but we can get out of here, Raf. Things are self-fixing pretty quick, so I think as soon as everything settles, I can get through to the base. I'm okay. Not in danger of dying on the spot, no matter how bad it looks, swear."

He offered up a small shake of his head. "Hang on," he said, lifting his hand to scrub at the spot under his chevron. Then he carefully took a few steps, and was relieved to feel no wobble or no screech of warning from his systems. "Yeah, I can transform, let's do this..."

With a grunt, he stretched and then the sounds of transformation clicked and whirred over the empty road. Wavers of heat rippled upward and bent around the silver car as it came down with an awkward thud on all four tires. Not his best moment, but he had tires, which meant--

Bluestreak opened his passenger door. "All of us better get going before the Decepticons decide to show up, trap or not," he said. "Last thing you need, Bandit, is to get caught up in this whole mess. Thanks for the help, it's really appreciated.

As for us, Raf, I guess we get a bit of distance between us and where he dropped us before they bridge us back. That's all we need, right?"

[Bandit]

Bandit nodded, optics flicking from human to Autobot and back again.  He could sense that they were crossing the threshold that lies between someone who ignored his nervous chatter and something who was starting to get annoyed by it, and historically that meant one thing: time to go.

"Well, then.  Good luck, you two.  Try not to die so hard.  According to Chauncey Pilkington the afterlife is nothing but an abyss of gnashing fangs and staring eyes.  Not that I think my Furby is right, as their Eschatology degree from the University of Zildrax is entirely fabricated, but I'm in no rush to prove them wrong."

Bandit turned away and took a few steps, his lanky form tucking and folding itself back into his motorcycle mode.  His holo avatar flickered into existence atop the bike, and gave one last wave before zooming down the road he first came down.