Work Text:
The Autobots sat cramped inside the cargo deck of the old freighter, Stratosphere on their journey home back to New York. Although they would miss the company of their new allies, the Maximals. The Autobots left with relief in their sparks, knowing they could count on the protectors of Earth for help, should evil arise once more.
A triumphant energy buzzed in the rear hold of the plane. Elena smiled, proud of having saved the world, yet feeling a little sheepish at how things nearly hadn’t come together. Now that the danger had passed, Elena was comfortable enough to confide in Noah, what had almost happened to her satchel. And if anything, it would help pass the time during their eleven-hour flight back to the U.S.
“You know, I never drop artifacts when I’m holding them, but you and I wouldn’t be talking right now if I didn’t have good reflexes for grabbing stuff before they fell.”
“What happened?” Noah smiled, amused, but a little worried about whatever Elena was talking about. He could only imagine what Indiana-Jones-gold-idol-grabbing bullshit Elena had gone through, while she raced against time in the tunnel under the Transwarp Key console.
“Don’t freak out, but I nearly dropped my satchel which had the password in lava.” Elena held her hands up in a stopping motion, to brace Noah for her perilous revelation. They’d been through enough hell to warrant a little warning, but it felt good to get things off her chest.
“That’s crazy! You could have been toast.” Noah exclaimed, anxiously grasping his knees, ready to leap into action to save her from the hypothetical situation. His eyes darted around the room, as if to remind him of everyone they could have lost if not for their united efforts. But they had survived, they were safe, the only thing left to do was to reflect on how much more difficult things could have been.
“Wait, if you didn’t have your notebook, could you have remembered what the right symbols were?” Noah asked, narrowing his eyes while trying to remember the symbols himself, which proved to be impossible. Elena was the hieroglyph girl, not him.
“Maybe. I can remember the vertical lines and dots I drew on my hand, but cross-referencing them against the spinning symbols would have taken more time. Time, we didn’t have.” Elena looked downwards as it dawned on her how much things had hinged on her deciphering abilities. A few more seconds of thinking time and there would have been no Earth to think upon.
“You did great. When I was in danger, somebody else got hurt to protect me.” Noah gestured at the unresponsive Mirage, lying on his side to keep pressure away from his blaster burned back. Noah knew Mirage would pull through, but it pained him to see the chatty Autobot so lifeless. They had so much to talk about when they got home, and if they played their cards right and his buddy was on the mend, in transit too.
“Is he still resting?” Noah shouted across the place to Wheeljack, whose bent knees, while his back hugged the cargo deck walls blocked his view of Mirage’s face.
“Sí. He is recharging, but I am an engineer, not a doctor. That would be Ratchit’s job.” Wheeljack answered with an unfortunate Spanish accent that made Noah question what he’d heard.
“Rat—?” Noah asked, avoiding a sound alike curse word.
“Ratchet. Our medic. We have not seen him for a long time.” Optimus Prime clarified sombrely. Though Optimus knew Ratchet had landed on Earth, his whereabouts were unknown, and they had yet to reunite. Prime knew Ratchet’s presence could go a long way in aiding Mirage’s recovery, but the young bot would have to go without Ratchet’s medical attention for now.
Stratosphere’s passengers, humans and robots alike suddenly felt the body of his plane form shake. With Unicron’s defeat fresh in their minds, their imaginations leapt to Unicron’s tractor beam purposely shaking the aircraft for just a moment, before it passed.
“Attention passengers! We’re experiencing some slight turbulence, but it’s not meh flying. I swear.” Stratosphere promised, the lilt of his Scottish accent reassuring them about the minor disturbance.
Mirage’s optics booted back online, the brief rumbling of the plane had stirred him back to consciousness. His circuits were on fire and his system was lagging, but he felt well enough to do what he did best—quote movies.
“You should tell the turbulence to ‘get off my plane’ like in the movie Air Force One…” A woozy Mirage slurred and tried to get up, before sliding back down to his original position, Primus! He didn’t have the strength…
“Mirage, how you doin’?” Noah rushed over to his friend to check on him. The wounded Autobot was propping himself up with his elbow, but couldn’t do it for very long. Noah could see Mirage was trying his best to look strong, but he didn’t need to because he would respect him all the same. But for Mirage’s sake, the least Noah could do was humour him…about the joke he’d cracked a moment ago.
“At least your sense of humour is intact.” Noah remarked and stooped, hands on his knees to make eye contact with the Autobot lying on the floor.
“Anything for my boy…” Mirage limply offered his other arm for a fist bump, which Noah happily returned and then stepped back.
“You don’t have to stay awake for me, you know? You should take it easy.” Noah urged, the sincerity in his eyes, convincing Mirage to get one more joke in before agreeing to rest.
“And miss getting tossed around like Wrestlemania? No way.”