literature

Fraternizing ch11

Deviation Actions

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After playing around with Bumblebee and Raf some, Cliffjumper let his eyes drag over to Nightstalker. She just . . . sat there. Determining that no one was going to offer her a friendly hand and offer some hospitality, Cliffjumper took a shuddering breath and decided, to pit with it. What better way to conquer his fears than by going up and just talking with her?

Still, Cliffjumper found himself rooted to the spot. Shackles of hidden terrors anchored him to the ground, and after an unsuccessful moment of hesitation he realized there was no way he could face her alone yet. Not . . . not yet.

Instead, Cliffjumper waltzed up to Arcee with a cheeky grin and jerked a thumb over Nightstalker's way. "C'mon, let's go talk with the sullen delinquent."

"No."

Her flat answer surprised him. His optics widened. He had expected her to resist him, but was she really going to be so obstinate? "C'mon, Arcee," he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek to sweeten the deal. Jack sitting next to her seemed to have his feathers ruffled a bit watching Cliffjumper's open affections to her. "It's just a little talk. We don't even have to have a deep, philosophical conversation, just—"

"I said no, Cliff," Arcee said again, eyes fixated on the far wall. Her mouth and optics were hard, and Cliffjumper suddenly realized that she was taking everything a whole heck of a lot deeper than he was. "There's no way you can get me to talk with HER. Not after what she did to you."

"Yeah," Cliffjumper said with a shrug. "Because I should most definitely be the one most willing out of all of you to forgive her."

Arcee scowled. "And why are you so willing to forgive her after what she did to you?"

Cliffjumper raised a brow at her, speaking over Miko's guitar. "What's this I hear?" He leaned forward, cupping his servos to his audio receptor. "Is that jealousy I hear?"

Her scowl deepened. "No! It's not!"

Cliffjumper chuckled then, shaking his head. "Most certainly not," he said with touches of sarcasm. His annoyance only caused her frown to deepen. "Are you crazy, Arcee? If that's what you're worried about, let me tell you, I feel NOTHING like that towards, might I remind you, my former torturer."

Arcee's lips pursed tight, and her optics dug into Cliffjumper's. "So? What is it driving you then?"

Cliffjumper glanced over to Nightstalker cowering in the corner, afraid of moving a muscle because of the guns that would point at her. He dropped his chin to his chest, muttering, "Maybe it's because I want to give her a chance. The way she gave me chance by helping me escape that place." When Arcee still refused to budge, Cliffjumper scowled back at her, unimpressed at her mulish tendencies. "Fine then," he growled back. He jabbed a finger at Jack before gesturing to Arcee. "Maybe you can talk some sense into her."

He started to move away, but glanced back at Arcee with an arched eyebrow. "You—" A hard strum of Miko's guitar strings interrupted him, and he was forced to raise his voice. "You DO want me here safe and alive, right?" A pained look crossed her features, and Cliffjumper jabbed his thumb to Nightstalker sitting alone. "Then you had better thank her someday, because without her I'd be neck deep in scrap."

To say Cliffjumper was irritated was the least of what he could be. He understood Arcee's anger—pit knew he shared it—but at least he was willing to put it behind him instead of holding a Primus-awful grudge. Instead, he tapped Bumblebee's shoulder. The scout's optics widened questioningly.

"C'mon," Cliffjumper tried to persuade him. He gave a nod in the black femme's direction. "Let's go talk to Miss Antisocial."

An uncertain whirring emitted from Bumblebee's voice box. *Um, are you sure? She's really . . . Queen Antisocial*

Cliffjumper grinned, sensing his friend's hesitation and understanding—she was very standoffish. "Only because we haven't been that friendly to her," he said, elbowing him. "What's wrong? Scared?"

Bumblebee's optics dilated a little as Miko jammed away on her guitar, Bulkhead and Wheeljack's laughs filling the air as each tried to force the other to fall on their aft catching the lobs. *Well, I'm not . . . Are you?*

Cliffjumper gave as nonchalant a shrug as he could. "Well, I'm asking you aren't I?" He looked down, clenching his one hand into a fist. "I can't bring myself to go over there alone . . . C'mon, 'Bee. Please?"

An uncomfortable whir left Bumblebee's vocals. *Oh, all right . . . Whatever you say, Cliff*

Cliffjumper grinned then and slapped the back of his back. "Atta boy! Let's go."

Cliffjumper led a wary Bumblebee over to Nightstalker. The tiny femme looked up, orange eyes blinking wide at the intrusion of her space, but Cliffjumper just plopped himself down next to her. Bumblebee sat too. With the scout accompanying him, Cliffjumper was able to keep his confident façade in play even when his insides were wriggling like a dying worm in the sun.

"Hey! What's up?"

Nightstalker pulled tighter into herself, terrifying orange optics jumping from between Cliffjumper and Bumblebee on either side of her. Cliffjumper forced himself to regulate his breathing—she was more afraid of him now than he was of her. A curious concept to wrap his mind around considering his panicking spark . . .

When she failed to respond, Cliffjumper gave as reassuring a grin as he could. "What, are you telling me we're going back to the silent treatment again?"

Her wings fluttered like a trapped bird! It suddenly occurred to Cliffjumper exactly how long it had been since this seeker had had a chance to fly. "N-no . . ." she finally whispered, barely heard above Miko's guitar strings.

"See now?" Cliffjumper said. He wanted to poke her like he did Arcee, or shove her, or pinch her or pat her or something, but he couldn't bring his good hand to touch her, and the other hand was currently nonexistent. "That wasn't so bad, now was it?"

Nightstalker shook her head again, managing to rasp, "N-no . . ."

Cliffjumper shook his head, cupping a hand to his ear. "Now c'mon, speak up. Miko's got her jam blaring so you've gotta use the Primus-given vocal processor I know you have in you!"

Nightstalker's caged orange optics jumped between him and Bumblebee, so Cliffjumper said, "Easy, now. No need to act like we're going to bite off your head. You're one of us now, so relax."

She didn't relax. "What do you want?" she asked quietly, eyes seeking a way out without any success.

"Just to talk some," Cliffjumper said, lounging comfortably next to her. Bumblebee sat crisscross, resting his elbows on his knees. "So what's up?"

Nightstalker looked uncertainly between them. "Um . . ."

Cliffjumper waved his hand, disregarding her awkward stalling. "Don't worry about it. Now, I don't know if I'm truly speaking for everyone here, but I'd like to apologize for how we've been treating you."

Nightstalker glanced up at him nervously. "Uh . . ."

Cliffjumper was forced to press his lips tightly together at the sight of her. She was so timid! It was really surprising considering the circumstances . . . He smiled at her, finding himself loosening up the more he was around her even though his spark still tripped some in apprehension. "I'm meeting your alter ego again. First it was what happened in the torture chamber, and now all the sudden you're the shyest, most scared girl I've seen. Chill out—we're your friends around this joint though some of us could use a good knock in the noggin to set us straight."

When she still failed to sit at ease, Cliffjumper wondered briefly what could possibly get her talking. "Well then, Nightstalker, are you going to talk with us? Can you tell me anything about your brother? What was he like?"

He wondered if he was being too forward in asking, especially considering the way she flinched, but Nightstalker just looked between them both again before hugging herself a little tighter around the knees.

"He was . . . a lot like Bumblebee."

Bumblebee snapped to attention then, optics dilating wide with surprise until the entire center of his eyes were large and blue. *What?* he asked. *I am?*

"He is?" Cliffjumper heard himself echo. Talk about a different turn of events!

Nightstalker gave the tiniest of shrugs, looking over at the scout. "My brother was older than me, not younger . . . but he acted a lot like you."

Bumblebee's optics were wide with curiosity. *Really? How?*

Nightstalker's clawed fingers tightened around her legs, and her wings fluttered restlessly. "Well . . . For starts, sometimes the bots call you 'Bee for short. Fli-Ni never wanted to go fully by NightFlier. He said it was too much of a mouthful."

Bumblebee scooted forward a little. *Bumblebee can be a pretty big mouthful when you're trying to say something fast and precise* he conceded. *NightFlier—it's a good name*

Cliffjumper watched her nod to the small scout. "And he had the biggest optics I'd ever seen—he was so cute it hurt. Though you definitely have bigger optics, Fli-Ni's were big too."

A self-conscious whir transpired through Bumblebee's vocals. *Aw, now you're embarrassing me . . .*

Cliffjumper had to pointedly ignore Arcee's gaze of daggers from across the room; at least Jack was talking to her. Bulkhead and Wheeljack were too busy playing their game of lob to care much about their conversation, Ratchet had his hands full with the ground bridge, and Miko was jamming, uncaring anymore of who was listening to her electric guitar. It was Raf that caught Cliffjumper's attention as he made his way over having no one to play with.

Bumblebee whirred and beeped a greeting to his human, picking him up gently to sit him on his knee. The yellow mech looked up to Nightstalker again. *How else is Fli-Ni like me?*

"Lots of ways," she said, the ghost of a smile smuggling its way to her face. "He acted a lot like you—he was always curious and getting into places he shouldn't be. He was eager." Nightstalker looked down to Raf, giving a subdued gesture to him. "And he was smart too, like you."

"Who's Fli-Ni?" Raf asked, having missed the first half of the conversation.

"My older brother," Nightstalker told him.

Cliffjumper watched with growing amusement and compassion as Nightstalker began to interact for the first time, with Bumblebee and Raf of course. They were the ones that presented the smallest threat, and Cliffjumper sat idly next to them, loving to hear Nightstalker finally loosening up and talking about someone she loved. His spark swelled with compassion when her rigid position finally relaxed some, letting herself sit cross-legged though her servos clasped together. Catching sight of Arcee who was watching blankly, Cliffjumper winked at her.

She scoffed and tossed her head. Cliffjumper chuckled at her disdain, but he settled back as Nightstalker narrated to Bumblebee and Raf how they compared to her big brother in so many ways. For once, Cliffjumper felt very accomplished—he had finally gotten her to relax and finally form some good bonds with them—even if he was completely ignored now.

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The next hour of enjoyment had been fun, filled with exuberant war stories from Bulkhead and Wheeljack. The hour after that had collapsed into chaos.

Nightstalker had listened with rapt attention towards the two wreckers while they told amazing stories, but when Miko had taken Wheeljack on a tour of the base Bulkhead had let his true anxieties show. He kept arguing that something wasn't right, that Wheeljack wasn't acting right. It turned out later that he had been absolutely correct.

After the terrifying threat of squishing poor Miko in his hands, Nightstalker was left rattled at the thought of losing one of the humans she had changed sides for. Besides that, the imposter Wheeljack had been set on keeping the ground bridge open so an army of Vehicons could get through and destroy them all. However, the REAL Wheeljack busted in and took the phony 'Jack down, and Bulkhead literally lobbed the fraud through the ground bridge.

After that day, the Autobots began to relax around Nightstalker, oddly enough. She didn't know if it was the fact that Bumblebee and Raf trusted her that began to make their minds change, but she wasn't shunned as horribly. Nightstalker became close friends with Bumblebee and Raf, enjoying the company of the two that reminded her so much of Fli-Ni and his cute innocence as a bot just a little too young to become a warrior in the field.

Wheeljack stayed for roughly a week repairing his ship while Ratchet repaired Cliffjumper's hand. Then, Wheeljack left again, proclaiming that there was just too much out there that he had to explore. While it had left the Autobots a bit saddened to see him go, they had all said their goodbyes to the mech.

Therefore, it was only a few days later that Nightstalker met the royal pain in every Autobot's afterburner.

Agent Fowler.

"PRIME!"

Nightstalker jolted, knelt in her corner that the Autobots were used to her being in by now. Optimus and Arcee walked up to the screen where a positively irate black man was shouting at the screen.

"PRIME!"

It was when Optimus passed by her that Nightstalker realized for the first time that this was her first time seeing the Autobot leader from behind. And, seeing his broad shoulders from the rear, ice chilled her insides.

She KNEW that back. A strangled sound choked the back of Nightstalker's vocal processor. She could still hear Fli-Ni's little laughs as he grinned, threatening lightly, "Okay, get out of here, Nights."

"But why?" Her smaller brows had puckered at the sight of her big brother looking around, uncertain about something, but he just blew it off with another cute grin. He waggled his fingers.

"Go on," he said, hiding some type of doubt in his blue optics. "I want to check out around here one more time."

"Can't I stay too?" Nightstalker whined, pulling on his arm. "I want to explore too! I'm big enough now!"

He waggled his fingers more threateningly than last time. "I'll only be a minute. Besides, if you don't get moving now, I'll tackle you to the ground and tickle your wings for the next vorn! Go on, you!"

Nightstalker had shrieked when he made a grab at her, dashing from the old building in the city of Kaon, giggling like mad. She passed around the corner of the building across the street, peeking out through the thin, mulling crowds of the street. She stared at the ancient bar that was going to be torn down and rebuilt where Fli-Ni faded back inside their play place to fish around once more. That was when the warriors came, Autobot warriors of the war that all looked fierce and determined, but also exceptionally worried.

Chaos erupted quickly after that, and Nightstalker could only remember the crowds threatening to sweep her away. The bombardment had happened too fast—the Decepticons had swarmed like scraplets, assaulting the industrious city of Kaon. A simple street child like her brother, Nightstalker was abandoned again, easily kicked aside in the confusion of Cybertronians fleeing as Autobot and Decepticon forces collided.

"Fli-Ni! Fli-Ni!"

She was lost in the screaming bedlam; innocents falling to either Decepticon or Autobot, Nightstalker didn't care. She dashed about the streets, flinching away from burning buildings, cowering from the crack of bullets, and stumbling over pieces of bodies dismembered from the blasts. Her city—her home—it was being obliterated by the war!

In all her life, Fli-Ni had always promised that the war wouldn't touch her. He always promised that if the war managed to scare her, he would make it leak transmission he would scare it so bad. He always promised that he would protect her, that he would never leave her—!

"FLI-NI!" Nightstalker screamed out, just a youngling lost in the turmoil of screaming mechs, wailing mothers, energon pooling, and the malignant heart of war. She dashed through the streets, slipping on slick energon and too afraid to transform and fly away when lasers filled the skies. The howl of seekers filled her ears and the roar of engines revving as the warring factions met head on.

Many of the innocents that had lived in Kaon were already dead and dying in the streets. The desperate reached out to her for help, but Nightstalker ran past, searching for her big brothers, lost in the clenching terror of the onslaught. "Fli-Ni!"

She found him at some random building that was too charred and mutilated to even recognize. His small form was pinned beneath a heavy beam, and he was screaming in pain. With a sickening feeling that made her purge her stomach of energon, Nightstalker saw his wings twisted gruesomely. Grounded.

"Help me!" she faintly heard him crying out to the nearest warrior. Nightstalker could only see the broad back of the giant mech that glanced over at him, blue eyes pinning to the small boy. "Please, help me!"

The mech stayed half a second of indecision before he broke into a run towards him, but a seeker shot through the air, landing on top of her brother. His scream echoed in the recesses of her mind, scarring itself deep when the foe laughed, taunting,

"Save him now, Autobot scum!"

She saw the lump near her brother, but her mind didn't register was it was. The Autobot mech jolted, dashing away without a second glance at her brother who screamed for help.

"Fli-Ni!" Nightstalker didn't think twice, but ran after him. She only gained a few strides closer before an explosion rocked the ground—the white lights blinded her optics, and heat swamped over her front. She was blown backwards and pain filled her senses. When her optics stopped glitching, Nightstalker looked up to find her brother and found only blackened and charred ground, orange fire licking the perimeter.

She faded in and out of consciousness. Stripped of any reason to live, Nightstalker was aware of the explosions that continued to erupt around her. Rubble sprayed over her prone body, the rumbles shook the ground violently, and the fires raged around her, but she didn't move. Only through divine intervention blessed by Primus himself did she survive the attack as Autobots died and retreated, abandoning the city of Kaon to Decepticons.

A purple beam of light glazed in her vision, the whir and cock of a gun heard. "Wait!" Someone pushed it away, and red optics filled her vision. "Look—it's a femme! She's alive!"

"Our orders were to finish off any still living," another voice grumbled.

"Surely not a femme," the first said. The red optics filled her vision again, and Nightstalker felt herself picked up. She gave a piercing wail at the movement, pain erupting in her sensors.

"C'mon—even Megatron would have mercy to a femme. Let's go, pretty girl. You're better off with us Decepticons than dying out in this place."




"Hey! Nightstalker!"

Nightstalker jerked wildly when Cliffjumper's voice cut through the horrific remembrance. Acutely aware that she was gasping uncontrollably with terror, Nightstalker's impassioned eyes flicked to those in the room with her. Every blue optic was pinned to her, but her frenzied orange optics collided with one certain pair that belonged to a back she hadn't seen in vorns. Broad shoulders she had all but given up on finding.

Optimus frowned at the mad and rising resentment coiling in her eyes. "Nightstalker?"

AUTOBOT SCUM.

With a strangled cry from her vocals, Nightstalker ripped herself from Cliffjumper's hand and tore from the room, fleeing with the devil on her heels. Gasping with both untold terror and a myriad of hate, disgust, and condemnation, Nightstalker ran to her designated room and threw herself down on her berth. With a moan that tore from deep inside, Nightstalker quaked in the solitude of her room.

She offlined her vocals. Then, she began to shriek, letting her silent howls fill the room so that no one would come with questions for her brief loss of sanity as she wailed for Fli-Ni.

Out of all the bots it could have been, it would have been the gallant Optimus Prime! The revelation gutted her stomach deep, causing a violent shudder to rip through her suspension. Nightstalker's claws ripped against her berth, shredding it beneath her feverish fingers. HE had been the one to abandon her brother even while he pleaded for help! HE had been the one to turn his back, the one who had left Nightstalker without even the merest part of her brother to mourn over! Just blackened ground and the haunting glow of orange, a sight she had embedded into her very appearance so that she never forgot what she owed her brother, so that she never forgot the rage buried beneath that rose to the forefront of her mind!

Her servos clutched desperately to her berth, anchoring her down as she struggled to contain the despairing thrashing she wanted to give into. No, now was NOT the time to lose herself in the vortex of sorrow. Now was the time for action.

Nightstalker's shoulders tensed. He wouldn't get away with it. He may be bigger, he may be stronger, but Nightstalker was smart. With a vindictive twist of her mind's thinking, she was sure she could become a cunning adversary to tear out Optimus's spark. It may take time, but she could do it.

Nightstalker's shivering halted as hate infested deep. She was gaining their trust—it was the best way to strike unsuspecting. She would have to be swift and precise. There would be no mess-ups involved because she only had one chance. Nightstalker's orange optics glowed in the darkness, venomous, and rising with vengeance.

She did not forget the debt she owed Fli-Ni. It wasn't just in the wretched lust of revenge, but a part of Nightstalker believed it justice. Her fist clenched tight, and her insides turned colder than ice.

Optimus Prime would pay.
If you look back carefully over the last chapters, I've been careful to make sure that Nightstalker has never seen Optimus's back. If she could have, she was either cowering with her head down in her knees or had her eyes shut because she was afraid, ect.


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CelestiaRose16's avatar
Oh crap, everything is falling apart. Lord have mercy LORD HAVE FRAGGING MERCY!