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Until the Bitter End
Chapter 4

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The lights above flickered as they always did at this late hour as Optimus stood at the control center with a small frown set to his lips. The entire situation was not something that he had completely thought out or even imagined would happen. There had been some backlash from the younger bots about having the seeker on base, even in his current state, but the Prime had reassured him that everything would be okay and the flier would be unable to cause much trouble at all. What had happened back there, moments ago, was a clear reminder that not only did they not have the correct detainment centers but they were not ready for the situation all together.

He could not chase the frightened and startled look on young Miko's face when she'd seen himself and Ratchet attempting to place the wounded seeker into stasis. Fear in her eyes and lips parted in a gasp, the words that she screamed at him. She had shouted for him to stop, that he was hurting the helpless Decepticon, and other things that were lost when she switched languages to her native one. It had been enough to startle him, and the flier got away. Her attitude didn't change, she'd tried to rush to him and probably would have if it hadn't been for Bulkhead and Ratchet's quick thinking. He wasn't sure what would have happened if they hadn't and he really didn't want to think about it.

Idly, he reached up and placed his digits over the fresh repair that Ratchet performed to his cheek, where the seeker had managed to slice him with one of his talons during the struggle. It didn't hurt, he noted, and would heal flawlessly, but it was still a reminder. That even blinded and possibly deactivating, the seeker was dangerous beyond anything that they'd expected or at least that Optimus expected. He couldn't help but feel a sudden guilt and he couldn't figure out just way, but it was answered the moment that footsteps echoed from the corridor to his side.

He didn't bother to turn to see just who it was because there was only the three of them, and there was no way that it could have been Starscream. He kept his optics focused on the various symbols on the screen in front of him instead, especially when Ratchet didn't say anything upon stopping next to him. The silence was enough to alert him just what was on his oldest friend's mind; the patient, as it normally was, and the bleak future for him. He tried to keep his field from mingling with Ratchet's as he didn't want to feel the distress that he knew was there or the truth of the matter that he knew that he wanted to speak to him about.

The silence stretched on for a few more moments until Ratchet broke, "Optimus," he called to him in desperation, "I need to know what I am supposed to do... what you need me to do."

He didn't reply, which didn't sit well with the old medic.

"Optimus."

'No, Ratchet,' he thought, 'don't do this to me.'

"Answer me," he demanded, voice growing from desperation to frustrating.

'Please. Ratchet, no. I can't.'

"Orion!"

'Fine!'

"What are our options," he asked so suddenly that it seemed to startle his frustrated friend.

"I-we-he," Ratchet stopped and frowned deeply. "We don't have the resources to repair the damage. We can't even give him his sight back, maybe not even his vocal processor. He won't be able to tell us anything, and as a flier..."

"You're concerned of his fuel intakes." Of course. Ratchet had to be concerned about that. With just the four of them, they barely made it by on the energon that they managed to collect in between battles and scouting missions. With the seeker here and barely fueling, they were scraping at the bottom of their reserves and if they kept him any longer, rations would be even smaller than they already were. Both of the mechs knew that, even if the younger bots weren't entirely sure right now but would sooner or later when they would have to set limits. "We could use him to find the mines. Maybe secure one or two to use."

"He won't be able to speak, Optimus," Ratchet replied swiftly, voice almost trembling for reasons Optimus didn't quite know. He had ideas but no proof. "If he can't speak, then he won't be able to give us the locations. Without his optical sensors, he couldn't even take us there and I doubt that he could write it out for us."

Optimus felt like a fool. Of course, he had thought such before but he never would admit to himself that the thought was an actual fact. Starscream was useless to them in this state and there was no way to repair him. They didn't have the same resources and tools that the Decepticons had, and there was very little they could do to bring the seeker back to his former self. Not only that but, with the way the medic spoke and looked at him, Starscream was most likely in a large amount of agony and suffering like no one deserved.

"We are just prolonging the inevitable truth," the medic added when the Commander did not reply. A dark servo came to rest on a wide red shoulder, Ratchet gave the Prime a reassuring squeeze and they shared a glance. "You need to make the choice, Optimus, and I must apologize for placing this burden on your shoulders."

His lips formed a thin line and he dimmed his optics, "I can't make that decision right now," he replied, allowing his shoulders to slack under his friend's touch.

"That's fine," was the surprising reply. "As long as you need, I will try what I can until then to keep him comfortable."

"Thank you."

Ratchet made a noise of acknowledgment but that was all. The pair then fell into a silence. It wasn't uncomfortable and awkward as it would have been with a different face, but content with each other as they've always been. The medic moved next to the Prime, who moved over and allowed him to take control over their computer system. Their shoulders rested together and fields merged and mingled together, relaxing their unsettled nerves.

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Bulkhead pulled up to the curve outside of his charge's host home and parked along the sidewalk. He was unsettled by the lack of noise in his cab, where Miko sat in the passenger seat with her head against his window. There was something awkward and different about the youth, who hadn't even so much as spoke a word or turned on the radio. Matter of fact, she had turned it off when he activated it to play her favorite band. Even now, the little girl didn't even seem to ignore or care that they'd arrived. She just stayed in her seat and stared, frowning with a blank look in her eyes.

He flashed the lights in his cab, but didn't seem to disturb the youth. "Miko," he called out, voice booming through his stereo speakers, "you okay?"

"Mhm," she said, then leaned back against the seat. She wasn't going into the house, that much was sure, but as she turned her sights to the dashboard she let her shoulders fall ever so slightly. Her lips twitched down into a deep frown, then added, "Bulkhead, do you think he'll be okay?"

"Who?" He had a feeling he knew what she was talking about, but a part of him didn't want to admit it. He didn't want to think his crazy but fun and innocent Miko would even have an inkling of feelings for a Decepticon.

"Starscream," she answered, going as far as puffing out her cheeks. "Ratchet is going to repair him, right?"

Bulkhead felt his tanks turn at the thought of Ratchet slaving away to save a Decepticon. It certainly wouldn't have been the first time, since there were times long ago when the medic would be knelt down over a downed enemy and attempting to save their spark. However, times were different now and things like that just felt more wrong than ever, probably even to Ratchet. Not to mention, this was Starscream. The seeker had caused a lot of trouble in the past and seemed to only cause more as time went on, even now in the state that he was in.

"Bulkhead...?"

"Yeah, Ratchet will try his best," he finally answered.

Miko perked up visibly, leaning forward, "you think he'll join the Autobots?"

"uh," he stuttered at the very thought. Could they even accept him after everything that had been done? Bulkhead wasn't so sure. Without even counting the number of Autobots he'd killed, the seeker was a traitor and could never be fully trusted. Even if it was possible that he could be repaired, that is. He surprisingly flinched though when he noticed how Miko's change flipped back to the less than cheerful display from before. He would have frowned but in this form all he could do was flash the neon lights on the dash. "I mean, I'm sure it could happen. If he agrees since we can't really force him to join."

"So we'll need to convince him," she piped up, a hopeful yet mischievous look in her big brown eyes. Before Bulkhead could even say a word, the girl had turned in her seat and opened his door. She bounced out of the passenger side and then twisted around, half leaning into his vehicle mode. She gave the brightest smile he'd seen on her face since the Starscream incident as she added, "Don't worry, Bulk, I think I know what we've gotta do."

"Wh—Miko!"

She had back stepped and closed the door, taking a few steps towards the house. "Oh," she piped up and turned back around, cupping one hand around her mouth and using the free one to wave. "See you in the morning!" Then she was back to racing up the sidewalk, leaving a confused Bulkhead behind.

"Scrap," he groaned, once his processor caught up with the situation and she was inside the home, "this isn't going to end well..."

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Wrapping his talons around the silver and purple helm, Megatron roared angrily and lifted the drone off the ground. The metal groaned under his intense grip and the underling clawed desperately at the warlord's wrist, a static filled cry emitted from a hoarse vocal processor. At any other time, Megatron would have found great joy in the position but his rage was too strong and with a twitch of his hand he crushed the vehicon's head. Sparks flew and the struggle and cries stopped. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he tossed the corpse effortlessly across the control room. The body hit the floor and skidded, sending sparks flying and the smell of processed energon through the air, until it hit the wall with a sickening crunch.

He turned his tainted purple optics from the remains to the crew that had gathered around the outline of the room. Most of them flinched back when they noticed his enraged glance, and even the ever silent Soundwave seemed to watch his beloved master with uncertainty. It didn't matter to Megatron in the slightly and he continued to loom over them, scanning the faces that surrounded him. He then wasted no time in baring his pointed teeth in a dark snarl and lifting his helm up high, a demand for respect.

"Well," he snapped at them, "are any one of you going to answer my question properly, or would you like to join your brethren in Well of Sparks?"

One brave drone stepped forward from the pack, helm held lower in respect and fear. "We searched the area of the last signal we picked up, sir, but we found nothing," he said, voice trembling in anxiety of deactivation.

There was another roar of anger and his servo shot out. Silver talons wrapped around the throat of the speaker and Megatron pulled him closer to his frame. He towered over the smaller figure and went as far as spinning them around. He slammed the drone against the wall and held him there, snarling and growling as the Vehicon shook and clawed at him to be released. It didn't work and soon the warlord's face was so close to the drone's that all he could see was the dark energon tainted optics of his commander.

"How do you lose a wounded seeker," he questioned with rumble to his voice that caused him to shake even more. The drone tried to answer but his vocal processor was pinched by his master's iron grip, and he just struggled to even keep his optics activated through the crushing pain. "You cannot even return a simple corpse to me, if that should be the case! Worthless!" He twisted around and tossed the drone to the ground, where he crumbled in a pile of himself. They locked gazes as the warlord's optics flared. "Answer me that!"

"I-I don't know, Ma-master," he whimpered and attempted to stand, only to be kicked back down.

The sound of transformation echoed and the heating of the warlord's cannon. The drone looked up into the end of it, visor brightening at the sight of the glowing mouth of the blaster. "Wrong answer," he snarled before firing. There was almost a delighted gleam in Megatron's optics as processed energon splattered across his frame. He turned his burning gaze to the side, locking onto the frightened and startled group. "Find that traitor," he snapped, and whipped his cannon up to point it at them. He used his other servo to point at the headless corpse, "or you will join your brother!"

The soldiers scattered quickly and exited to save their own metal hide. The fliers quickly taking to the top decks to take flight, taking to searching the skies while others attempted to find either way through the ground bridge to search through by ground. Even Soundwave, still silent, turned back to the ship's controls and began to shuffle through data that had been gathered. Megatron found it rather amusing to see how his army had reacted, but then he was remained just what they were searching for.

He scoffed and stormed to one of he large windows. He stopped and stared out at the clouds that they passed by with ease, watching the fliers twist and turn as they zipped by to follow his orders. He used the reflection of the window he glance at Soundwave, who seemed to be working restlessly at his own task. He could, though, feel the officer's optics on him and almost hear the turning gears inside his processor. Soon he flared his magnetic field to warn the other Decepticon not to even think of using his telepathic abilities on him. And there was no surprise when he obeyed and turned his full attention to his work.

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In Earth's early hours, around three or four in the morning, when Ratchet finally made his way back to Starscream's side. When the doors parted, he had just walked inside and over to the wounded seeker. He scanned over him with his optics and frowned, finding it eerie and unwelcoming how still and fragile the flier looked. However, he'd expected that because that was the way he left him hours ago. What he didn't expect was the Autobot Commander standing at the control panel for his scanners and the Prime's optics scanning over the various symbols that were written across the large screen.

He crossed the short distance from his position and to Optimus' side. He frowned and revved his engine to catch the Prime's attention, which it did and they shared a glance at one another. Although, their gazes soon broke; Optimus had turned his optics back to screen while Ratchet did the same. There was a moment of silence as Ratchet glanced over the brightly lit screen, optics linger over crimson symbols before moving to the darker ones, then he felt his commander shift next to him.

"Megatron, what have you done?"

Ratchet turned his gaze to the Prime, "Optimus," he inquired.

"I haven't seen readings like this since Cybertron," he replied absently, focusing on various symbols that told damage to systems that may be unrepairable.

"At least there I could repair his injuries," Ratchet muttered, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. He didn't want to be reminded of how different this planet was, and certainly how many sparks had been lost and would be thanks to their position on this planet.

"Hmm..." He stepped back and turned, optics scanning over the battered seeker and dimming in dismay. He was uncomfortable; stuck between easing Ratchet's angst and a tough decision that had been bothering him since the seeker arrived. "Repair what you can and we'll move him back to the cell. Make sure he is comfortable before bringing him out of stasis."

"Of course," the medic responded, watching as Optimus tore his gaze away from the seeker and exited the room. He exhaled heavily through his vents and turned his full attention back to the screen, slowly reading over and crosschecking the information. It would take awhile to repair most of these, given they could find the material needed for it, and he began to memorize every symbol and word. His frown deepened and his digits curled into a fist, voice almost trembling, "all this and we'll probably deactivate you anyway..."

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The screen in the control room lit up and Soundwave turned his helm, hidden optics turning to the warlord and focusing on his stiff frame. Megatron turned from the window he'd been staring out of and approached the officer's side with long and powerful strides. He glanced over the screen and a smirk came to his scarred lips, pointed teeth visible and the light above glaring off of them. He reached past the silent mech and pressed a few keys with a swift movement, magnetic field spiking with excitement and amusement.

In the levels below them, the entrance to the landing bay dropped down. A few fliers who had taken to hanging around there to avoid the wrath of their master were taken by surprise when a blue Cybertronian jet roared through the access point. It hovered there for some time, startling the poor drones enough to activate their weapons and take aim only to be shot down by another jet that seemed to appear out of thin air. Both hovered for a moment, then the last flier disappeared again.

The control room was thrown for a loop when a jet appeared where there hadn't been one moments before. It transformed with ease and took the shape of a slender purple and black mech, with glowing red optics. He glanced over the room before meeting the intense gaze of the Decepticon Lord, but before anything could be said, the seeker approached him and knelt down. He bowed and offlined his optics, just as the doors to the room opened and in stepped another flier—blue in color, with red strips on his azure wings.

"Lord Megatron," the standing flier stepped forward and bowed down on his knees, matching the position that the purple seeker had taken. "You called...?"

"Skywarp, Thundercracker," Megatron smirked at them, "how nice of you to answer my calls. I believe we have much to talk about."

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Author's Note

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First off, I would like to apologize for the wait on this chapter. I had sent it away, because I finally thought I found a beta reader, but they never got back to me. This is also an apology for any mistakes because a quick look over later, I'm sure I missed a lot of mistakes. I'm still looking for someone who might be interested in beta reading upcoming chapters, so if you are interested, just drop me a PM and we'll discuss it.

Second, this chapter was supposed to be even longer than it is right now but I felt it was too broken up as it was, so the other 'part' will be the beginning of the next chapter. I'm hoping that I can start updating more regularly once the holidays are over and done, and my family is finished stalking me. So let's cross our fingers.

Third, thank you all for the repeated support of this fic. Someday, I'll work up the courage to reply to each and every single one of you. I promise! Until next time, enjoy the chapter!