𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 ━ transformers

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐲-𝐬𝐢𝐱

The drop feels longer than it actually is. My body feels heavy, like it's being weighed down by tons of metal, and I realize that probably rings true since my body is composed of Cybertronian metal now.

Dry air whips past my face as I fall.

I think about a lot of things, but mostly nothing at all.

I think about how I'll never see Mom, Dad, or Ironhide again.

I think about how I didn't get the chance to save Theo.

I think about how long I've been falling.

And then I'm thinking about the hard ground that's suddenly snuck up on me, my back snapping at the impact.

The cries are silent, but the pain is brutal. It shoots from my back, all the way to my toes, aching and burning as it shoots through me. It feels like a fire, one that was lit by a gallon of gasoline, blazing and enormous as it shoots through me.

I groan silently, biting my lip so hard that I draw blood.

My arm is useless by my side, crumpled and lifeless. I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth, hoping that some of the pain will stop.

It doesn't. I lay there for I don't know how long, wishing I were dead.

I don't know how far I fell, but it was a good bit of distance from the cliff's edge.

When the ringing in my ears stops, I can faintly hear the footsteps of Theo walking away, his stride heavy. Pleased. He's even whistling a tune, and why wouldn't he? He did his job, finished it. Starscream will be proud of him or angry. I don't know which. I hope it's the former, so at least then he won't get in trouble.

I try moving my legs, but the pain is blinding when I attempt to. Hissing, I close my eyes, holding a scream that wants to shoot through me. I don't need Theo coming back to make sure I'm dead.

. . .okay?

What?

I blink blearily, using my other arm to wipe the stray tears from the left side of my face.

I thought I heard something.

Are you— okay? Blasted femme.

Ah.

I relax into the ground, my bones sighing with relief. My breathing comes out in pants, the air having been knocked from me. I focus on bringing them in, then glance towards the blue light that seems infinitely brighter now that I'm almost face-to-face with it.

The energon pooling around Cliffjumper is luminescent, burning my retinas with how much it's shining. Glancing at the trail, I look up, right, and then almost lose what little composure I managed to keep.

Because there Cliffjumper is, in all of his rusted glory.

Wincing, I take him in. He's injured, that much is true. I can see the dents in him, the scratches where energon is leaking out of him like tiny streams. It drips onto the floor, small splatters echoing off the cavernous ground.

His eyes are not focused. Or they're closed. When I glance up at them, I am only met with darkness.

But he's here. I can feel him—almost as though I were him. My eye burns the most it has since I woke up all those weeks ago on the base. Cliff is a presence in my mind, strong and sturdy, demanding my attention.

Good to know that puny brain of yours still works, he mutters, then winces when I grunt, trying to get up and get over to him. It seems that's all that is working.