Armada-'verse. Cyberton. Wishes in the night.

[random_xtras]

Nightwish blinks as she comes back online, and then quirks a slight grin as she realizes that she's laying on the floor in her quarters, in her favorite place partially underneath her berth. -I made it home. Bonus.-

Then she lifts her head to looks at the tiny being sheltered in the curve of her body, one long finger tracing gently along his helm as she remembers how many times she'd had to rescue him from walking over the edge of the bar the night before. "Hey, 'Clash are you awake yet?"

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[backupbots.livejournal.com]

He stirs at the contact, optic band powering up slightly. "What's it worth to you?" he mumbles, vocaliser semi-functioning.

[random_xtras]

She chuckles softly and tucks her other arm under her head as she trails the finger down to his face and gives him the faintest teasing tingle of electricity. "Good morning, handsome."

[backupbots.livejournal.com]

Thunderclash's visor brightens rather Nightwish. Right. He takes a moment to check his chronometer and get his friendly voice in gear, then sits up and looks up at the Decepticon. He's muzzy and his processor aches from what he fed to it last night, and right now that makes him curse himself for an idiot. "Hey, morning."

He winces slightly as his sensors fritz, then looks around, stretching. He's a little puzzled, something about here is familiar, but he can't place it. "Where are we?"

[random_xtras]

She nuzzles against him, giving him the lightest of kisses so as to not scramble his CPU any worse. "Mmmm, you still smell like that polish."

[backupbots.livejournal.com]

"It must have rubbed in by now." He looks himself over to see if he's gotten any shinier.

[random_xtras]

"Of course." Her finger starts up and down his back again as she frowns slightly at the memory of her fruitless search.

[backupbots.livejournal.com]

He tips his head back, enjoying the sensation. "Who did you ask?"

[random_xtras]

Two fingers gently knead his back as she chuckles. "True."

[Timeskip: a few hours later...]

[backupbots.livejournal.com]

Thunderclash is settled in his quarters, plugged into the highly sophisticated console and explaining to Treadshift the difficulties of convincing technicians to defy standing orders from the top of the hierarchy.

"It's lucky you came to me, you know. It's one thing trying to bribe people under normal circumstances, but in your case... well, they don't like the sound of those penalties for helping some security guard, you get me? You have to be higher up the ladder, if you know what I mean, and..." His fingers brush the keys, and a few images flicker across the screen. "I think I can do that for you."

[random_xtras]

//Great. Except that there's nothing to recover.//

[backupbots.livejournal.com]

//I'm a fair guy. I never said how much you had to find. But hey, if it's too hard for you, just clear up the area. And expect the Minicon Emergency Team if they're not there already.//

[random_xtras]

"You see that place where the floor buckled and lumped up? Well that biggest lump isn't the floor." The kid looks sick.

[backupbots.livejournal.com]

Thunderclash turns and stares. It's been a while since he's seen anything that gruesome, and a thrill of shock runs down his back. "Nasty..."

After a few seconds he looks back at the Autobot, sensors sharp for any kind of weakness. His mind may be on other things, but his salvage instincts are strong. "Are you OK, kid?"

[random_xtras]

Only... the living systems never materialize. It's not till he cracks her spark core that a soft shimmer lights the air around them.

[backupbots.livejournal.com]

Thunderclash gives a triumphant whistle. Makeshift dumps the saw safely aside and reaches for an emergency stasis container. If he can get the spark into somewhere safe, they might have a shot of getting it to a proper stasis unit.

[random_xtras]

The cleanup bot nods, but he's frowning with concern. "Thunderclash? Are you alright?"

Nightwish is struggling, weakening once more as her awareness wavers.

-Dying....- The thought is faint but resigned. -Right?-

[backupbots.livejournal.com]

No. No, I don't think so. That hadn't even occurred to him - it seems to him that she's pretty emphatically not dying. Sure doesn't feel like it.

Thunderclash mangages to focus at the sound of his name. He chuckles weakly and claps a hand on Makeshift's shoulder. "Even if I wasn't, I'd be in good hands, wouldn't I?"

"Don't worry," Makeshift says calmly. "You can go and give your report."

[random_xtras]

Nightwish can feel him all around her, forbidding her to go, but despite everything she can feel herself slipping. Frustration wells up alongside the pain and illness as she thinks bitterly that she doesn't seem to have a choice.

[backupbots.livejournal.com]

The sense of refusal from Thunderclash increases: if she can't choose he will. But even if he wasn't addle-headed from the feedback, he has no idea what he could do - aside from upping her motivation...

Meanwhile Makeshift has commandeered a truck-former; Firebot and Prowl help him lift Thunderclash, Nightwish and all, on. The medic's still trying to help, but he knows he'll need better equipment. Not that he's going to waste time heading for his own repair bay when he knows one closer.

[random_xtras]

"I suppose I have to pay for my own cleanup." The complaining is absent as he watches the wounded Minicon with concern. He doesn't really understand the little people, but hurt is hurt. It isn't fun.

[backupbots.livejournal.com]

"You get a bill, you can send it to us," Firebot shrugs, hefting one end of Thunderclash. Miniature and delicate he might be from a Bulk perspective: at Minicon level the jet-bot is seriously heavy.

Prowl has the lighter end: namely, Thunderclash's legs, with Makeshift hovering above (though for once not literally) as they haul him inside.

[random_xtras]

-What?- She starts. -Thunderclash?-

[backupbots.livejournal.com]

Nightwish, he acknowledges vaguely, realising he's not talking to himself this time. She's still here.

He feels rather satisfied about that, though in the back of his mind is the thought of the mess today's going to leave. It's the same part that does a manual override on his thrusters when it decides he needs to run.

[random_xtras]

-No.- Thoughtfulness swims up out of the haze. -I think I'm jacked up beyond reason... and something tells me if I weren't it wouldn't be pretty.-

[backupbots.livejournal.com]

He can agree with that, and there's the thought that some things can't be handled sober.