Important: Please Read!

This is a "continuation" on Thundercracker from my previous fic "The Departed". For those of you who've read that one, this will make sense. For those of you just coming by to check/skim this one out, you might want to skim through my previous one to get a feel for everything here so things don't seem so confusing.

Like the other one, I have combined elements from G1, the live action movie, and my own interpretation to try and create an updated storyline revolving around today's timeline and technology. I have given a few of the characters updated alt modes to coincide with the modern day timeline.

Hope all of you enjoy. I look forward to all of your reviews!

Synopsis:

Unsure of what he truly is and where his loyalties lay, Thundercracker sides with the Autobots in a self finding quest to find the answer to his destiny.

Chapter 1:

Footsteps light. Earth soil below. The breath of all organic life.

Warmth on his fingertips. Radiating off his body.

He was walking. To where he belonged. To whom he was.

Megatron. Alive. The greatest Decepticon leader Cybertron ever knew. Waiting. Welcoming him home. He was sure of it.

"It has been too long, Thundercracker, much too long," Megatron spoke, his voice simple and calm.

He bowed his head to the glorious leader.

"I am at your service, Megatron. Whatever it is you ask, it shall be done."

"What you are guilty of can not be undone."

"I am guilty of weakness."

"You are guilty of seething treachery! You are not worthy of bearing the insignia given to you. You are a disgrace to all Decepticons!"

"Megatron..."

"Your rootless existence is far despicable than any Autobot, Thundercracker. And your punishment for such treason will be brutal and slow. We Decepticons have no tolerance for those who wish to side with our forever sworn enemy. Judgment is upon you now."

Beneath, the grass, fading. The sun, dissolving into darkness. The ground, turning into cold metal. A long forgotten familiar air. Massive structures spanning upward toward the far reaches of space.

Cybertron. As he remembered it. As it once was before the war, in all its splendor and dazzling achievements.

He closed his optics and breathed his home world. Fragmented gases rushed through his intakes. He opened his optics and saw...

Structures toppled, blasted into virtual ruins. Smoke filling the planet.

Optimus Prime. Walking toward him. Pointing at what stood in front of them both. The bodies of his fellow Cybertronians lying in pieces, ripped apart.

"When you become your greatest enemy, you are only bringing about your own inner destruction."

He bowed his head in shame.

A bright light, reaching for him.

Comforting. Wise. Peaceful. So very peaceful.

"Thundercracker, there is greatness in the path. The path is there for your choosing. Do not fear the unknown, the untouched, for it will lead you to your destiny."

Thundercracker shot straight up in his recharge bed. Metal plating heaved in and out. Holy Primus, that felt real. Too real. Internal processors quivered. Never had they plagued him before, vivid recharge images which left him numb, dazed, and confused. It made no sense whatsoever.

That's what I fraggin' get for trying to make nice with a bunch of Auto dumb afts! Nightmares that could scare the circuits out of Unicron!

Thundercracker glanced around the room. For as inferior as humans were, the living space recently acquired was accommodating enough, not too mention, warm, dry, and comfortable. Those three things were enough to put up with any Autobot for a small time frame.

The only thing not kickin' was the desk sitting beside the recharge bed. A disproportionate sized Cybertronian computer sat on top. When he first took the living quarters down the corridor sitting next door to (of all bots), Bluestreak, Thundercracker was sure the Autobots were playing a spiteful joke.

Plain disbelief came over the grey Falcon.

The Seeker pointed to the desk sitting up against the wall. "You've got to be kidding me right, Prime? Do you have Rumble tied up in some Autobot torture chamber you let out when I'm not here?"

Amusement did not find its way onto the Autobot leader right then.

"No, why?"

"Open your optics Prime! How the slag am I suppose to sit at something that's not even big enough for a minibot?!"

Optimus glanced inside the room. The tiny desk and chair sat neat in their place. An amused chuckle finally came out.

"Improvise."

"Improvise?" Thundercracker scoffed. "The only way to improvise would be if I hacked off my entire body and was left with a head and two arms! And even that might be pushing it!"

Optimus grinned. "I will see what I can do, Thundercracker."

Thundercracker shook his head concerning the earlier conversation with the Autobot leader. He sighed and looked at his personal effects spread out near the wall on the other side.

The electronics mess covering the epoxy coated floor was astounding. Data chips and various sensors lay scattered here and there while bits and pieces of Cybertronian communication and information systems lay broken and dismantled.

But it was the lone object sitting toward the back of the piles which caught Thundercacker's optic: a homemade metal toy resembling a hand held gun. Instead of holding ion particle shredding beams, it held water. Skywarp made it when they were on earth before. The humans had a similar version for themselves called a "super soaker".

Thundercracker picked up the toy. It was like yesterday. Running around the Decepticon base after duty, trying to "hit" everyone they came in contact with, tearing down the corridors, dodging fellow comrades who'd been ambushed, making a game of how fast they could make it to their quarters unscathed only to sit back and howl with laughter.

Those were the days! Thundercracker lamented. And to think, Warp use to go on and on about Screamer being nothing but an incompetent buffoon, and now look at him, following his lead like a logic circuit washed drone. Unbelievable!

He put the toy down and stood up. Recharging could wait. He needed fresh air, clear his thoughts.

Heading into the hallway, Thundercracker groaned to himself. In front of him, a door hissed open. The Seeker held his breath as his auditory circuits prepared themselves for the vocal processor from human hell.

"Hey TC!" A cheerful voice called out.

Ignore him. He'll go away...or talk himself to death. One of the two.

"Where ya heading to? I heard your door open. I couldn't get comfortable. Recharging these days isn't always easy sometimes. Were you having the same problem? I know how you feel because I -"

Thundercracker spun around to look at the young gunner standing in the doorway. "Don't worry about it, motor mouth."

Bluestreak stepped back somewhat. "Oh, okay. I just thought maybe you could use someone to talk to."

"Wait, don't tell me. Your over fried logic circuits told you that someone was you, right?"

Bluestreak looked hopeful, his optics bright.

"No," Thundercracker snorted.

Thundercracker peered over the top of the young gunner. A normal sized desk sat inside his quarters. On top of the desk were a computer, a wooden picture frame, and a shiny silver trinket sitting beside it.

Thundercracker looked away, not wanting to remember the fleshy Bluestreak had been in love with. Ten earth months had passed since the fateful accident, but the gunner still grieved over it. Thundercracker lost count how many times he'd heard the pitiful soft cries resonating through the walls which nearly drove him insane.

"I'm leaving," Thundercracker said finally.

"Leaving?"

"Yeah, leaving. As in walking down the corridor and not being here. Stay with me, motor mouth. It's not a hard concept to grasp."

"You don't want to stay on the base? Maybe you should talk to Optimus about it."

Thundercracker rolled his optics. He turned around and headed back on his original pathway, trying to stave off the conflicting voices echoing inside his logics.

We Decepticons have no such tolerance for those who wish to side with our forever sworn enemy. Judgment is upon you now.

When you become your greatest enemy, you are only bringing about your own inner destruction.

Do not fear the unknown, the untouched, for it will lead you to your destiny.

Thundercracker opened the steel doors leading into the base. The night sky was black and clear and waiting for him.

The grey Decepticon transformed and took off, heading nowhere in particular. The recharge dream lingered.

Destiny? What destiny? To be a traitor to my own kind, have my own best friend want to slag my aft to pieces, and be among those I know I don't belong?

The Autobot base became a dot to his optics. He knew where he belonged. The sky was his fortress, his solitude. Where he could conquer and rule without guilt or remorse.

Where he could soar free and never look back.