Time Scale: Nano-click: second ; Cycle: Minute ; Groon: an hour ; Mega-cycle: days ; Orn: 13 days ; Steller Cycle: year ; Vorn: 83 years.

= Comm Link =

:: Bond Speak ::

Chapter 34: Catch Him

Sentinel tried to ball into himself as he received another inquiry from another mech. His messages were piling in since he called in sick. He tried not to cringe away when he saw that Optimus had even sent an inquiry, asking if he had worn himself out yester-cycle. Even Jazz had sent him a message stating he was going to stop at his flat after his work-cycle to bring him some light energon and some files Cliffjumper needed signed. Furthermore, Cliffjumper said Ultra Magnus was asking about his health and if he had been to the onsite medics yet.

Fraggers, all of them, were just trying to get him to an onsite medic as soon as possible. It also meant that Cliffjumper was communicating with Jazz and that Jazz was likely speaking with Optimus and that everyone was conspiring against him.

Frag, frag, frag. What was he going to do? How was he going to keep it together after Ratchet's little bombshell last night cycle?

He just wanted to leave.

"Alma, are you okay?" said Echo probably for the tenth time that day since Sentinel had woken up, the little mech putting down his coloring to likely crawl up onto the berth and touch his face. Poor little sweetie had been so protective and strong. Oh, what was he going to do now that probably half of headquarters knew about his little babe? What was he going to do to protect him?

Suddenly the door to the exam room slid open, making his youngling squeak and turn towards the door. Seeing who it was, the youngling quickly threw out a greeting like Codebreaker had taught him to, "Good morning, Mr. Medic. Where is Breakdown?"

Ratchet, coming into the room, put on a warm smile as he immediately threw a scan over the young-spark. He seemed active and well fueled, though his plating was puffing up slightly in a protective manner … which was adorable. It reminded him of Optimus.

"He's resting. He's tired today so I'm watching the clinic for him," said Ratchet, throwing a scan over Sentinel next and noting that the mech was awake, his back to the door. Ah, so he was pouting. Great.

"Is Breakdown okay? He's never sick," said Echo coming forward toward Ratchet, his audios tilted down in a very-Sentinel way. Frag, he really did look like his alma though. "I can go check on him and give him a hug. Breakdown always says my hugs make him feel better when he's sad."

Frag, the kid could melt sparks, but if Breakdown had pleasured himself, he likely fell into recharge wet with his cod piece open. Echo didn't need to see that.

"That's very thoughtful of you Echo, but with Breakdown resting, I need help in the clinic. Could you be a brave little soldier for me and watch the front counter? That way if anyone comes in you could come and tell me?" said Ratchet kindly. He had already synced with the front entrance, but he needed to speak with Sentinel alone.

EM field bursting with excitement, the little mech hopped to his peds, "Okay, okay! I'll do it … As long as you watch alma for me. He seems really tired today and won't get up."

Depression likely, but Ratchet merely nodded, "Of course, of course. Now, off with you little soldier."

The sound of exiting little peds soon left the exam room and before Ratchet could even say another word, Sentinel growled, "Echo will never be a soldier. Never."

Sighing, Ratchet replied, "I sent him to watch the front of the clinic, Sentinel, not fight a war. We need to talk before I release you to go home. So, I thought it best we didn't do so in front of the little one."

Sitting up shakily, the blue mech bore his denta, his tone angry. "Haven't you hurt me enough this mega-cycle? I will wait for Breakdown … if he's still here since you've seemed to have taken over. What? Did you already turn him in and he's halfway to the stockades?"

Shaking his helm, pulling up a stool as he took one of Sentinel's wrists so he could plug in for a quick system check, Ratchet gruffly replied, "Like I told Echo, Breakdown is resting. Where do you think the donations for your spark came from? The lack of pain should be a telltale sign for you."

Sentinel looked away but thankfully didn't tug his arm away as Ratchet opened a medical jack.

"As for why I am watching the clinic, I am now the clinic's new Unit Head Medic. Breakdown needed a new medical license for the place and I needed his … connections. I will not be sending him to the stockades."

Jaw tightening, probably horrified that he would now have to put up with Ratchet at the clinic, the blue mech grumbled, "Well, new Unit Head, I need a doctor's note. One that will get me out of an appointment with an onsite medic if you can and few cycles off."

Sighing, Ratchet added, "I can get you an extra cycle off to rest right now, but overwriting an onsite Autobot medic might be tricky. Let me see what I can do. And speaking of headquarters, I spoke with Optimus this morning and he said there is a scramble for answers right now. If you ask for too much time off, it might bring attention to the clinic and Breakdown. None of us want that."

Ratchet didn't miss how Sentinel cringed at the mention of Optimus. The medic couldn't help but stall in his system checks, a hand wiping down his face before he spoke again, "Now, listen, about the conversation we had last night … I don't expect you to corner Optimus and just tell him. I was angry last night and … maybe I was a bit bearish. I'm just worried about Echo and you, kid. Your spark can't take this kind of stress. And though we might have a little extra time with Breakdown's donations, too much stress is going to kill yah. You need to tell Optimus to help shoulder Echo's needs. I don't care how you tell him. I don't care if you want to glaze over that night, but he deserves to know … because his spark already knows, Sentinel."

Sentinel went stiff. "W-what?"

"I said his spark already knows. Its been going through withdrawal since Earth and it's unlikely to stop. Sometimes, the spark knows what the mind does not," said Ratchet, nodding as Sentinel's readings came back stressed but steady. "Just talk to him about normal things first. It … might make it easier. Now, I'm going to give you a pain prescription and a note for yestercycle. I expect you to comm me if anything hurts or aches abnormally. Understood?"

Watching Ratchet fill out a doctor's note on a digi-pad with his digital signature, Sentinel sighed before stating, "I'll … try."

"Good, now. Drive the speed limit, take your time, and if you feel dizzy at all, pull over and I will come and get you two. Alright? I'd like to keep you here another day honestly, but the truth is this clinic needs another two exam rooms. An upstairs wouldn't be bad either."

…

Sentinel had gotten a dizzy spell, but instead of calling that grouchy old harpy, he had transformed and walked the rest of the way home. Little Echo had run around his feet as he looked inside each and every store window they passed. He didn't take Echo out often given the young mech's health and now he was regretting it. Poor little spark was missing out on a lot of things.

Sighing, wondering if he could skip answering the door for a whole orn, Sentinel came out of the elevator to the floor for his flat … only to have his engine nearly stall when he noticed that Jazz was standing right next to his hab suite's door talking to Codebreaker.

Fraggggggggg!

"Oh, Sentinel," said Codebreaker in surprise as he turned to the noise of the ex-Prime's ped falls. "Officer Jazz said you weren't feeling well and came to check on you."

The ninja-bot was probably doing a lot more than just checking on Sentinel. Jazz was in Intel for a while … and was probably collecting information right now. There was a reason he was directly under Magus now. He told their leader things that didn't come through the usual communication lines. Slagger. Why wouldn't anyone stay out of his business?

"Uncle Jazz!" suddenly cried Echo, the small mech running up to the ninja-bot and wrapping his arms around the mech's leg like a lichen, grinning up at him. "What are you doing here?"

Seeing an opportunity to try and milk the Minor for information, even though he had been here trying to get information from Sentinel's neighbors, Jazz patted the youngling on the head before stating, "Uncle Jazz came to see you and your alma, kiddo. I'm here officially though because the Big M wanted me to come and ask if you'd see an onsite medic tomorrow if you're still feeling sick. He's worried about you Sentinel and unless it's serious, he needs all-hands-on-deck. Plus … I think we are overdue for a chat."

Sentinel's audio fins pressed against his helm in worry. Why the frag was Ultra Magnus asking about him beyond that of a professional standpoint? And chat sounded more like an interrogation but with more smiles. Either way, he needed time to plan and cover up holes in Echo's origins.

"There's no need for a medic. I already feel better and will be in tomorrow," said Sentinel trying not to sound nervous. Now, he just had to weasel his way out of dinner because Jazz had a bag with him. Likely that chat would include some dinner with high grade to try and loosen Sentinel's lips.

Not. Going. To. Happen.

"Oh … Well, I did bring some cubed energon, metal spices and a nice bottle of high grade just in case you were feeling better. I figured we could catch up like old times, and I can also get to know Echo a little better. It has been too long since we had a long talked," said Jazz, making it painfully obvious what he wanted to talk about as he petted Echo's little helm.

Sentinel tried not to puff up his plating in a defensive manner. He just didn't have the mental reserves right now. He just wanted to go to his berth and ball around his creation tonight. He just wanted to hold his hope in this world for a cycle more without something trying to rip it away.

Trying to think of how to dismiss the invitation, the ex-Prime was surprised when Echo stepped away, little ear-fins falling back as he admitted, "Probably not tonight, Uncle Jazz. Alma was really sick last night and spent all day at the clinic. The new medic said he needs his rest."

That … wasn't how he wanted to get out of this. Frag, now he looked like a lair and now Jazz was looking him up and down worriedly.

Deciding to act before Jazz could ask about his health again, Sentinel took his youngling's hand while backing up to his flat's door. "Ah, yes, I already saw a medic today. They weren't concerned but said I should get some rest during the night-cycle. So, nothing by medical grade for me, I'm afraid. So, I'll have to politely decline, Officer Jazz."

Jazz, still looking Sentinel up and down, frowned deeply, "Well, another time perhaps. Let me know if you aren't feeling well tomorrow, SM. I don't want you pushing yourself if you aren't well."

Struggling to smile, Sentinel stated, "Of course, of course."

He couldn't shut the door fast enough, sinking down onto the floor a klick later as he listened to Jazz say goodbye to Codebreaker and walk away. He almost had a meltdown in front of his own suite. How was he going to handle tomorrow with all optics on him, likely asking about his creation?

Wondering if he could convince Sonic Trip to drop out of training so that he could run away with her back to Docker City before work tomorrow, he almost laughed as his sparkling ran off and then came back with a full cube of medical energon.

"For your tank, alma."

Smiling sadly, patting his creation on the head and deciding to worry about his pending panic attack tomorrow, Sentinel decided to spend a little time with his creation. He took his baby, cube and all into his lap and just snuggled him close, glad for his sparkling's sweet scent.

…

Sentinel … was not a ninja-bot. Far from it actually. As a warrior, he relied on steady footing and a well-placed shield. He was meant to take a hit, to withstand the barrage with his lance in hand. He was not light-footed or stealthy in the way a ninja-bot was and he had long since accepted this. That didn't mean he wasn't pretending to be one right now with the way he was dodging around corners and sneaking past open office doors.

And, perchance, why were there so many office doors open today? It was like every office that led to his department was open. One might think after the Shadow incident everyone would have their guard up. Then again, he heavily suspected that some of the other department heads were just waiting for him to walk by so they could pounce.

Then again, he might just be paranoid.

Either way, he wasn't dealing with that. No, sir. Not him! He was going to slink into his office and just do his job. He wasn't speaking with anybot-

"What are you doing? Did you drop something, Sentinel Minor?"

-except for the collection of mechs in front of his office. Awesome. Just great. At least it wasn't Jazz, he supposed. Jazz would have never let him live it down if he saw him sneaking through the halls.

"No. No, I did not," said Sentinel awkwardly as he stood up straight and looked at the grey and white Preceptor-looking mech that had addressed him. He was taller than the famed scientist with squared shoulders and half-moon spectacles, but his aloft expression defiantly reminded the Minor of Preceptor. This mech, at least, had an EM field, unlike the unfeeling scientist. Not that that made Sentinel feel any better … this mech was obviously all business.

He immediately glared at Cliffjumper for not warning him about this mech and for allowing all these other mechs to conjugate in front of his office. The rest were lackies likely here to stare. "And why are there so many of you in front of my office anyway? Don't any of you have work to do? We had a break in two cycles ago. You all should be going through records or checking your sources. Or better yet, you should be in your own departments. Not … whatever this is."

Divide, Backlash and Tough Love all looked at each other. Most of the mechs didn't even belong on this floor (unless you count the rumor mill as a department) and quickly scattered, dropping off digi-pads and other things to sign on Cliffjumper's desk. Most of those documents probably could have been approved through email, but he knew they all came to stare. Really, it had only been a day. A day!

Unsurprisingly, the bespectacled mech remained, a digipad and digipen in hand. "Sentinel Minor, my name is Factcheck. I am with Autobot Internal Resources and Relations. There has been an expressed … concern … about inaccurate documentation on your part. I have come to make sure your personnel files are all filed correctly and that you are receiving all the active benefits allotted to you and your dependents."

He immediately threw a glare at Cliffjumper who shrunk back as if slapped at his desk. The red mech immediately sent him a private comm. = It wasn't me! You know anything with AIRR takes forever. It had to be some mech higher up that expressed concern … And quite honestly Sentinel, if you have a kid, which we need to talk about, by the way, you need =

Sentinel immediately closed the comm link, Cliffjumper twitching and giving him a … pained look? Why was he upset?! He wasn't the one everyone was spreading rumors about! Well, not all of them were rumors, but still.

"Is that so?" finally said Sentinel. "Well, I will certainly look into my profile for any errors, Factcheck. It's not something I can do right now though. I was … out … yesterday and I need to catch up before my morning meetings."

Factcheck seemed to write something in his digipad. "Understandable. I'll have you know that mechs or femmes with young dependents are allotted more personal time. To strengthen bonds and keep their family unit healthy."

Nodding, his spinal strut stiff, Sentinel awkwardly added, "Is that so? The more you know, right."

His optics becoming slits, obviously not amuse that his questions were being danced around, Factcheck continued, "Active Autobots also get special discounts on schooling, youngling care and healthcare."

Nodding, obviously becoming uncomfortable, Sentinel took a step towards Cliffjumper's desk as if looking for an excuse. "Yes, yes. We all know about those benefits. I will … go over my profile for errors after … my meetings."

Optics still slits, Factcheck brought up Sentinel's profile, stating simply, "Some of the higherups have expressed concerned, Sentinel Minor. Dependents, especially if there is a single parent, need to be listed in case there is an emergency. Which is why I will assist you right now. I have your profile loaded. We will go over the basic information: address, comm link, emergency contacts, … dependents."

Factcheck certainly was straight forward, wasn't he?

"Well, those are all really significant questions and that type of paperwork is very important, butttt," suddenly an alarm popped up on Cliffjumper's console, showing that a meeting with the Magnus was in a few klicks. Nothing he had to rush off to, but he would take whatever he got. "I have a meeting with the Magnus. Really soon. We must be going. Now."

Cliffjumper, confused, was about to say the meeting wasn't for another thirty klicks, but Sentinel was already filling his arms with a dozen random digipads while waving to the sour mech, "Well, look at the time. Gotta go. See yah."

Next thing the grey and white mech knew Sentinel Minor was gone … leaving nothing but questions and random digipads on the floor. Not that Factcheck was upset. He loved it when mechs tried to get away.

Walking forward to look at Cliffjumper's unlocked desk, he quickly glanced at Sentinel Minor's schedule.

…

Sentinel, meanwhile, kept looking backward as if expected Factcheck to be stalking him. He just continued to push Cliffjumper ahead even as the shorter mech lost all but two of the digipads that had been given to him. The red mech stared at the digipads for a second before rolling his optics and suddenly digging his heels into the floor.

"Ooof," went Sentinel, nearly tripping over the shorter mech as they both suddenly stalled, "What are … are you digging your heels into the floor?"

"We passed the meeting room," groused the red mech.

Offlining and onlining his optics in surprise, Sentinel wilted slightly in relief as he solemnly admitted, "Oh, well … I wasn't really heading that way anyway. I just don't want to talk to that mech."

Cliffjumper … had had enough. He had done nothing but worry for two cycles when Sentinel had stormed out of the office with a kid on his hip. Then, to top it off, he hadn't come into the office the next day. Sick again. Now the higher ups were just trying to help him and he just wanted to brush it off. Cliffjumper had had enough.

Suddenly, even though he was shorter, Cliffjumper was dragging the blue idiot into the office they just passed, slamming his hand on the door control as he all but shouted, "What is wrong with you?! Everyone is just trying to help you."

"What do you mean by that?" growled the blue mech, his ear fins falling back into distress. Yes, Cliffjumper grumped at him all the time but never shouted. "If this is about yesterday, I had an emergency and-"

"Stop lying! What are you, a Decepticon? Have you ever told the truth since we met?" barked Cliffjumper, suddenly in Sentinel's bubble which caused the larger mech to back up and slam his back into the conference table. "I thought we had a kinship … that maybe we were friends."

His optics dimming, Sentinel struggled to find the words. "O-of course, I've told the truth. And I -"

Hand slamming onto the conference table, betrayal and anger bubbling up into his EM field, Cliffjumper continued to rip his boss a new one. "You have done nothing but lie since we met, haven't you? You lied to me that first day about the vacation. And then there is the mystery around your fall and illness? And when the frag did you have time to pop out a kid, Sentinel? Little Echo said you were his alma. I'm not just your assistant, I'm supposed to be your confidant, but you won't tell me anything! Now everyone's breathing down my neck cables because you won't tell the truth."

Swallowing, his spark aching in its casing, Sentinel struggled for an answer. "I … didn't … I never meant to …"

"You didn't what?! Mean to lie to me? To lie to everybot headquarters?" growled Cliffjumper, sick of the games.

Shaking his head, Sentinel's vents suddenly hiccupped. He wanted to be angry, to snap at Cliffjumper, but he was so tired of always fighting and hiding. He hated living this way, alone. Now, his throat tubbing was starting to tighten and he was struggling to find the right words. He didn't know if it was the medication Ratchet pushed onto him or his aching spark or … maybe he was just tired of lying, of hiding all the time.

Swallowing, the words spilled out before he knew what was happening, Sentinel's voice was a shaky whimper, "Can you blame me for keeping my spark close, Cliffjumper? Everything good is always taken from me. E-e-elita, Jazz, my titles, the hammer, my innocence. Echo's next. Now that everyone knows he exists, they are going to take him. I couldn't live if s-someone tried to take Echo. I'd die. I'd … offline."

Cliffjumper drew back slightly, misery and terror suddenly coming off the blue ex-Prime. His EM field was hurt, crippled even.

Awestruck, not knowing what to do now that he opened the can of worms, the red mech drew back towards the larger mech. His hands at first were uncertain as to what to do, if he should offer comfort or to continue yelling. But, as he watched Sentinel struggle to keep cleanser at bay in his optics, he decided he wasn't angry anymore. Instead, the red mech carefully reached out and rubbed his superior's arm. Part of him wanted to call someone, anyone for help. He was better at being angry then soothing. Someone like Jazz would be able to deal with debacle he caused. Someone with a soft voice and a calm EM field.

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry I snapped Sentinel, Sir. I'm just … worried about you. And everyone's been on my case for the past two cycles and I … just couldn't take it," said Cliffjumper, trying to press some comfort into his EM field, which he absolutely failed at but at least he tried. "And why would anyone take Echo? Huh? He's yours, right? I mean he's the spitting image of you."

Swallowing thickly, Sentinel managed to hold in a sob, "Of course, he is … I just figured that if no one knew, no one would hurt him. I have to keep him safe."

Pulling up a chair while trying to guide the taller mech to sit down, Cliffjumper found the intel bot in him trickling to the surface. "Safe? Safe from who, Sentinel Minor? Who would try to hurt him?"

His vents now stuttering, his EM field trying to reel itself back in despite being in complete agony and wanting nothing more than to meld with Cliffjumper's steady one, all Sentinel could do was shake his helm. He then covered his optics with one of his shaky hands and bid his tears away. Frag. What was wrong with him? Crying in front of a subordinate. He was supposed to be better, stronger than this.

Watching Sentinel struggle to collect himself, a sinking feeling sideswiped Cliffjumper. He tried to keep the disgust out of his EM field, part of his mind calculating the only probable time Echo could have been born and conceived. Yes, some bots were Heavy longer than others depending on a sparkling's size during gestation, but the timing was too perfect … and horrific if he was right. It would also explain why Sentinel kept his gravid state a secret and why he was terrified now. He'd be afraid and ashamed too if the sparkling's sire … was a Decepticon.

Cliffjumper struggled to keep his face neutral as he reached out and hugged his now sobbing Superior, but it was nearly impossible to keep the rage from bubbling forth. His mind just kept jumping from scenario to scenario of different Cons from Earth sliding between his Superior's legs. And Sentinel would then scream and beg for them to stop, but those filthy Cons would just keep using his valve as a dumping station for their foul seed. He doubted it was consensual, Sentinel would never sink so low.

Now, Cliffjumper's hands were shaking in fury, pure rage leaking into his EM field. Sentinel had actually pulled away and was now giving him a wet opticed look, like he didn't know what he did wrong to earn that backlash.

The red mech tried to rein his feelings back in, but he couldn't. And though he knew he should tweak the truth carefully out of his Superior, he found he didn't have the patience. He would get revenge for Sentinel fraggen today if it was one of the Decepticons in the stockades.

"Tell me which fragger it was?" said Cliffjumper, doing his best to remain calm and failing magnificently.

His breathing calming somewhat as confusion overtook him, Sentinel murmured, "Who?"

"The Con that rap-," Cliffjumper's glossa caught, part of him not wanting to say that word in front of the victim. "… that took advantage of you? Which fraggen one was it?"

The widening of Sentinel Minor's optics and the following look of horror told Cliffjumper all he needed to know, especially when Sentinel field snapped away from his so fast that it stung. He still had time to feel the shame though.

Immediately, Sentinel was trying to untangle himself from his subordinate, his lips trying to find the right words. It wasn't and was true. In some ways, it had been Soundwave that had raped him and yet it hadn't been his seed. Optimus and Sentinel had, for all intent and purposes, raped each other. "That's not … my sparkling is not a … no. You are mistaken. He's … not a halfling."

Feeling the growing apprehension from Sentinel, Cliffjumper tried to grab the blue mech's hands again to have him calm down. "Who is the sire then, Sentinel? A mech doesn't hide their sparkling if they aren't ashamed."

His spark skipping, unable to take the stress, he untangled his hands and EM field from Cliffjumper before stumbling to his feet. "I-I have to go."

Cliffjumper immediately cursed himself for allowing his rage to get the better of him. He hadn't meant to push Sentinel, to stress him out when he obviously wasn't handling the situation well. His EM field even felt … glitchy, like it was fading in and out. It was concerning, to say the least. So, he quickly tried to rein the situation back in and get the mech to sit back down. Sentinel's plating was shaking now, his optics flickering in obvious mental distress.

Frag. This was his fault. He needed Sentinel to sit back down.

Rising to his feet, his steps smooth compared to Sentinel's shaky ones, Cliffjumper trailed after the taller mech. "Wait, wait. I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to presume or upset you. Your EM field is obviously distressed, Sir. Sentinel Minor. Please, I just –"

Sentinel's spark felt like it was skipping in his chassis. His tank was flipping. It was like his worst nightmare was coming true. He … had to leave. He had to fraggen leave the planet. He should have left already. He should have never gone to the clinic. He should have just risked going without Echo's medication. Frag, he was going to be sick.

His spark was hammering now and seeming to skip. His whole form felt uncomforted and yet distorted at the same time like at any klick his spark was going to stop. He also felt like he was going to lose his tank's breakfast. Despite himself, Sentinel stumbled out of the room.

Factcheck, who had been waiting outside of the conference room patiently since it had been Ultra Magnus himself that had asked this of him, perked up as he listened to muffled voices becoming loud. A nano-klick later Sentinel Minor was stumbling out of the room, his EM almost flickering in stress and horror. The grey bot actually recoiled slightly and watched as the red mini-bot ran after his superior.

"Sentinel, stop. Please sit down, we need to talk about this," said Cliffjumper, his worry spiking as Sentinel stumbled into a wall, grasping at his chassis as if in pain. A nano-klick later the blue mech was leaning forward and purging his tank. The red assistant made a disgusted face and was about to come forward and drag his superior away from prying eyes, like the grey mech behind him, when two distinct figures came around the corner.

Ultra Magnus at first looked surprised and Optimus Prime immediately looked concerned at the scene before them. Sentinel Minor, still shaking, wiped his mouth plates and slowly looked up. His optics widened as if he had been caught doing something illegal. His EM field flickered even worse as he stumbled away from the wall. He needed to leave.

"Sentinel?" came Optimus' voice immediately when he noticed the blue mech's clumsy footing, came forward. "Are you alright?"

Ultra Magnus, his brow slowly furrowing in concern when he noticed Sentinel's shaking form and flickering optics, was about to come forward as well when he noticed that Factcheck was there.

"Something's wrong with him, Magnus, Sir. Sentinel Minor needs to sit down," quickly said Factcheck as he met Magnus' gaze.

Nodding, coming forward as well, the large mech nearly recoiled when he was able to feel Sentinel's stressed EM field. It seemed to be quivering like it was fading in and out. The mech's optics immediately widened. He knew that feeling. He had felt it many times during the war … that was how a spark could act before it sputtered out.

Optics going wide, Magnus barely had enough time to look at Optimus and tell him to, "Catch him."

Optimus barely had time to flounder forward as Sentinel's optics rolled into the back of his helm, his EM field sputtering like it was going to sputter and fade right in front of them. Yet, just as the blue and red Prime grabbed Sentinel's collapsing form around the waist, the EM field immediately seeming to even out. Weak, but there, Sentinel's EM field clung to Optimus' field like the blue mech's life depending on it.

Collapsing messily on the floor, Optimus placed the ex-Prime's head on his shoulder and listened to the other's mech's vents gasp while Magnus rushed over to them, barking orders to the other two mechs in the hall. He even came forward and checked Sentinel's pump pulse as he pressed two large fingers into Sentinel's neck tubing. Optimus didn't know if it had been one klick or thirty before an onsite medic came rushing down the hall. All he knew was that Sentinel needed help and he was going to do everything in his power to help.

XXX

Paw07: I was planning on doing a few more things before the 'collapse at work' chapter I've been planning forever, but I was like 'fuck it, I'm rushing this plot along'. I really do take too long to do everything. Part of it probably has to do with the older chapters. They need to be proofread so badly.