Chapter Text
Thunderclash rushed to Rodimus’ side as the crew of the Lost Light joined with Getaway’s pirates in a desperate fight to repel the DJD. Battle cries rose above the ring of drawn steel and the percussive burst of gunfire.
“Hold on! I’ll get you free,” Thunderclash said. He reached for Vos’ barb pinning Rodimus to the mast.
“Wait!” Rodimus cried. He ripped some shreds from his torn shirt and stuffed them in his ears, then did the same for Thunderclash, since he didn’t have any of his own clothes to use. If Tarn started singing again, it wouldn’t do them any good to immediately get caught in the same paralyzing spell. “Okay. Ready.”
“On three.” Thunderclash locked eyes with Rodimus. He shifted one hand on to Rodimus’ shoulder to steady him and gripped Vos’ barb tightly with the other. “This is probably gonna hurt. Focus on me. Nothing else.”
Rodimus nodded grimly.
“One. Two.” On the count of two, Thunderclash braced Rodimus and ripped the barb clean out of his shoulder in one swift motion.
Rodimus gasped and slumped into Thunderclash’s arms. The rush of relief at having the barb removed was quickly eclipsed by the explosive new pain of having a gaping wound.
“THAT WAS NOT THREE!!!” Rodimus shouted. He clutched Thunderclash and willed himself to stay upright despite a wave of dizziness.
“Sorry. I know.” Thunderclash grinned sheepishly. “Stuff like this usually works better as a surprise. Less time to tense up and all.”
“I don’t know which concerns me more,” Rodimus grumbled, “the fact that you were right or the fact you have enough experience with this kind of situation to know that you were right.”
Thunderclash just smiled his stupid lopsided grin and shrugged.
Although muffled by the cotton stuffed in his ears, the chaos of battle roared all around them. The wound on his shoulder bled freely, his split lip ached, a wave of nausea threatened to bring Lug’s biscuits out of his stomach and all over the deck, but there was only one thought in Rodimus’ mind.
“DRIFT!!” Rodimus yelled. He scrambled to his best friend’s defense, slipping on his own blood spilled on the deck.
Moving like lightning, Thunderclash grabbed him before he fell. He wrapped one arm around Rodimus and snatched a loose line with the other like he already knew Rodimus’ plan. “Ready?”
“You know it!” Rodimus grinned. He held on to Thunderclash as tight as he could with his injuries, confident that Thunderclash wouldn’t let him fall.
With a running start, they leapt from the Lost Light’s deck and swung together towards where Tarn and Drift were engaged in a deadly battle. Drift parried Tarn’s every strike with his dual swords. The steel rang high and sharp with every contact with Tarn’s fearsome claws. Although Drift fought fiercely, he was slowly losing ground as he also had to contend with Tesarus’ gigantic flailing tentacles and dodging Kaon’s electrical bolts.
As Rodimus and the still pantless Thunderclash flew through the air, Whirl wolf-whistled, “No one told me this was a clothing optional battle!” Whirl dodged one of Kaon’s electric bolts and looped his hooks into his pants as if to tear them off.
“Don’t even think about it, Whirl!” Nautica warned from above, where she and Nightbeat were doing their best to protect the rigging from Tesarus’ grasping tentacles. “One naked crew member is already too many!”
Whirl cackled.
Rodimus braced for impact. He and Thunderclash slammed into Tarn, knocking the siren clean across Skip’s deck. He hit the railing and tumbled backwards into the ocean with an ignominious splash. A horrible caterwauling arose around them. It took Rodimus a minute to realize the rest of the DJD were laughing.
“Oh snap!” Helex guffawed. “You did it now! It’s been ages since anyone had landed a blow on Tarn and you got him good!”
“Someone hit Tarn?!” Tesarus burbled from below the waves. The kraken’s numerous tentacles drooped. “Aw! I missed it!!”
Vos chittered.
“Yeah, Vos,” Kaon chuckled. “Tarn’s gonna be fucking furious when he gets back on board. While we truly enjoy our work, Tarn treats every murder like a boring tedious job. Now it’s personal. He’s going to be insufferable about this for days.”
“We better make a show out of trying to avenge his honor or whatever so he doesn’t get pissed at us too.” Helex said before lunging at Rodimus and Thunderclash with renewed vigor.
Rodimus’ plan to shift the DJD’s focus away from Drift worked a little too well as they all rounded on him.
Thunderclash shoved Rodimus out of the line of fire and tackled the charging lusca. He wrestled the writhing mass of barbed tentacles and snapping jaws, rolling across the deck. Satisfied Thunderclash had the situation more or less under control, Rodimus rushed to Drift.
Rodimus and Drift grabbed each other by the shoulders and shook each other, simultaneously yelling, “Are you okay?! That was the stupidest thing you’ve ever done!”
“Stupid?! Me?!” Rodimus gasped in indignation.
“YES! YOU!!” Drift accused. “We encounter the most legendary group of killers on this side of the seven seas and your plan of escape is ‘let’s piss them off’?!”
“Oh! Excuse me, ‘Mr. I’ll out myself as an ex-Decepticon to a band of thugs who specially make it their business to murder ex-Decepticons’!” Rodimus rolled his eyes.
“Pardon me for finding a more effective version of your distraction plan before you got yourself killed.”
“Yeah well-” Rodimus stumbled for the right words. He was exhausted. His shoulder ached. He couldn’t figure a way out of this disaster. But Thunderclash was as rescued as anyone at the moment and Drift was alive. Rodimus yanked Drift into a tight hug that hurt his shoulder more than anticipated. He really should’ve toned down the enthusiasm. “I’m just really happy you’re not dead yet.”
Drift laughed and hugged him back. “‘Not dead yet’ really doesn’t inspire a load of confidence.”
“There’s a lot to be said for the word ‘yet’.” Rodimus nodded sagely. “If we’re not dead yet, we’ve still got a chance.”
“Speaking of a chance- A little help here!” Thunderclash called through grit teeth. Helex's tentacles curled around his legs, knocking him off balance. Thunderclash braced one hand against Helex’s top jaw and the other against his chin, struggling to keep the snapping shark maw from taking his head clean off.
“Hold on, Thunders!” Rodimus leapt to rush to his aid but stopped short when Drift planted a firm hand on his chest.
“Nope. You’ve got a date with Ratty.” Drift shoved Rodimus directly backwards into Ratchet’s waiting arms. Drift whirled around and rushed towards Thunderclash and the tangle of lusca tentacles with his swords drawn. “I’ll help Thunders.”
“Oooo, Ratchet! I didn’t know you cared!” Rodimus faux swooned, falling limp into Ratchet’s arms. “I’m flattered and all, but I must decline. I won’t come between you and your dashing husband.”
“Dashing my ass. More like self-sacrificing idiot.” Ratchet grumbled. “Besides, it’s not that kind of date. Let me see your shoulder before you bleed to death while we’re fighting for our lives.”
“I’ve got to fight.” Rodimus protested, wriggling in Ratchet’s iron grasp. “There’s no time for first aid right now.”
“You’ll make time.” Ratchet ordered. He gently but firmly made Rodimus sit back against the scant shelter provided by the quarterdeck stairs. “If you get yourself killed, Drift will be inconsolable. Not to mention how Thunderclash would react. I can’t deal with both of them at the same time. Especially when I’d be sorting out my own grief. On top of all that, Whirl might literally instigate the apocalypse. He’s more fond of you than he lets on.”
“Alright. Fine.” Rodimus relented. He hated sitting back while the rest of his crew engaged in a fearsome battle without him. It was the kind of fight that goes down in legends. Rodimus really didn’t want to miss being part of it, but he also didn’t want to put his friends through the kind of grief he suffered when he thought Thunderclash was dead. “Just make it quick.”
“It takes as long as it takes,” Ratchet huffed.
Rodimus winced as Ratchet pulled his torn shirt away from his wound. It didn’t seem like it really hurt until this very moment. As Ratchet’s fingers delicately probed the puncture, pain shot through Rodimus’ whole body. To draw his focus away from the pain, Rodimus cast his gaze across the battle currently spanning decks of two ships. While his crew were holding their ground, the DJD definitely had everyone back on their heels.
Cyclonus, Tailgate and Whirl fought back to back to back. They spun and pivoted to guard each other’s openings like a three headed monster. Up above in the rigging, Nautica stood over a wounded Nightbeat, parrying Tesarus’ tentacles and dodging Vos’ projectile barbs. Velocity had climbed up to fight beside her and was currently patching a gash on Nightbeats’ arm. There was still no sign of Anode and Lug. Rodimus hoped that they were just lost in the chaos and hadn’t been swept overboard or something.
“Ow!” Rodimus gasped. He jerked away but Ratchet held him fast.
“Hold still!” Ratchet commanded. “There was a little sliver of whatever Vos stabbed you with still in there. I’ve almost got it out.”
Rodimus whimpered and turned his attention to the Lost Light. Getaway’s crew wasn’t faring any better. Atomizer peppered Tesarus’ tentacles with arrows, but the kraken didn’t pay the tiny weapons any mind at all. How many tentacles did the kraken even have anyway? They were everywhere. Kaon threw electric bolts at anyone within range. The air crackled with the residual energy. Unfortunately the DJD were exactly as, if not more, formidable as all the stories foretold. Whenever Tarn decided to rejoin the battle, they were going to be in a world of trouble.
“Alright.” Ratchet gently pat the hastily applied bandage on Rodimus’ shoulder and wiped the blood off his hands on his pants. “You’re all set for now. But don’t get yourself killed and ruin all my hard work.”
“You got it, doc!” Rodimus offered a cheeky salute and leapt to his feet before the pain had a chance to register.
Suddenly a dark shape sailed by overhead.
“AHHHHH!!!” Getaway screamed. “I can’t swim!”
Rodimus froze. He looked up to see Getaway flying through the air above him, having caught the blow of one of the kraken’s flailing tentacles.
“Hold on!” Rodimus yelled. He leapt up, trying to catch Getaway, but he was too far away.
As Drift attacked from above, Thunderclash ducked low, grabbed Helex around the midsection and suplexed the lusca, slamming him hard into the deck. Using the momentum of the blow, Thunderclash continued forward and launched himself up. He snatched Getaway in mid-air, twisted around and landed on his feet with his kidnapper snugged safely in his arms.
“Whoa. That was so cool,” Rodimus whispered, heat rushing to his cheeks.
“Put- put me down!” Getaway yelped. He buried his face in his hands. His own cheeks shone bright pink, whether due to embarrassment of being rescued or being gently cradled by a giant naked man, Rodimus wasn’t sure. Either way was hilarious and he’d be sure to tease Getaway about it relentlessly if they survived.
Thunderclash glared at Getaway and unceremoniously dropped him on the deck.
“Ow! Hey! What was that for?!” Getaway snapped, rubbing his wounded backside.
“You wanted down.” Thunderclash stated. He folded his arms.
“Ugh. Are you still mad about the whole kidnapping thing?” Getaway rolled his eyes and dusted himself off.
Thunderclash narrowed his eyes.
“Pfft. Whatever. Thanks for saving my life. I guess.” Getaway muttered under his breath.
Thunderclash’s expression softened. “You’re welcome.”
“Are you alright?” Rodimus cried as he rushed up to them.
“Yeah. I-” Getaway began.
“Not you. I was talking to Thunderclash.” Rodimus cut Getaway off with a cheeky grin. Getaway harumphed.
“Never better,” Thunderclash groaned. He winced as he rotated his arm and something popped in his shoulder. He shuddered. His skin was marred with dark circular cuts from Helex’s barbed tentacles and several deep gashes bled freely.
“I’m gonna be real with you, cap,” Getaway slung an arm casually around Rodimus’ neck. “We’re not doing great. I hope you have another bullshit friendship card up your sleeve.”
“Well, I-” Rodimus stammered. He didn’t have any more cards to play. His entire hand was on the table. He never had a plan in the first place; he was making everything up as they went along. Igniting the ships into a floating bonfire was still an option, but that was a last-resort-scorched-earth kind of option.
“ENOUGH!!” Tarn shouted. He surged up out of the sea as if riding a tidal wave.
Water foamed and splashed across the deck as he flew towards Cyclonus. Tarn whirled to attack with his claws and would have torn Cyclonus’ throat out with one blow if Whirl hadn’t reacted first. Whirl dropped to the deck and kicked Cyclonus’ feet out from under him. The warrior fell hard to the deck. The fall knocked the air from his lungs but saved him from Tarn’s attack.
While Cyclonus struggled to get his breath back, Tarn took full advance in the lapse of his protective song with one of his own. The siren sang a mesmerizing tune that Rodimus found impossible to ignore. Even with the cotton stuffed in his ears, his limbs grew heavy, almost like being drunk, but not in a fun way.
Tarn turned his attention towards Rodimus and growled a note so low, Rodimus felt it vibrate through his body. Uh oh.
“YOU.” Tarn snarled with jarring musicality.
“Me.” Rodimus responded. He met Tarn’s white hot fury with unshakeable defiance. He tried to shift into a defensive posture and found it like moving through thick tar.
Tarn advanced slowly, deliberately reigning in his temper to project his image of professionalism. His control wasn’t as complete as before, but he reveled in it anyway. Drift and Thunderclash both tried to slow his advance towards Rodimus, but he easily thrust their clumsy attacks aside.
“If you’ve got some kind of trump card, better play it soon,” Getaway whispered. He shrunk behind Rodimus. “Like really soon.”
Rodimus drew a ragged breath. His mind raced. There was only one thing he could do. At least everyone else was far enough away from him that his fire wouldn’t immediately roast anyone except Tarn. The ships would be destroyed, but he had several strong swimmers on board. Both Thunderclash and himself would shift into their merforms. Drift and Ratchet would use their selkie magic to transform into seals. Between the four of them, they should be able to rescue any crew members who couldn’t swim, Getaway being first among them. But that didn’t account for the fact that the DJD were also merfolk. If the initial inferno didn’t kill them, they’d just make sport out of killing Rodimus’ crew slowly as they floundered in the waves.
Tarn grasped Rodimus by the throat and lifted him off his feet. Rodimus sluggishly gripped Tarn’s arm in a futile effort to alleviate the pressure on his neck.
Thunderclash shouted. Drift screamed.
Rodimus grinned as he reached for his inner fire magic. It might be time to go scorched earth after all.
“I thought you were gonna kill me last?” Rodimus jeered. He couldn’t resist needling Tarn again.
“Plans have changed.” Tarn snarled. He paused to force the anger from his voice, but his words came out clipped at best. “I’ve elected to kill you first. Personally. Any last words?”
“Yeah-” Rodimus cast about in his brain for a stupid pun involving fire when something on the horizon caught his attention.
A shiver of shark fins cut through the dark water, racing relentlessly towards them. They shone silver in the moonlight. One massive shark fin in the lead heralded a creature leagues larger than the rest. Rodimus had only seen one shark that size in his entire life. It wasn’t possible! Or was it??
Suddenly a hand rose from the sea, waving frantically.
“RODDY!! RODDY!! PIRATES STOLE THE LOST LIGHT!!” A familiar voice called. “WE’VE BEEN FOLLOWING BUT THEY WERE SO FAST AND THEN THERE WAS A WHIRLPOOL AND- you know what? I’ll tell you later.”
“Riptide!” A smile spread across Thunderclash’s face.
“DON’T WORRY!!” Riptide yelled as he swam towards them with his band of sharks. “WE’RE HERE TO RESCUE YOU! MEGS AND I HAVE A PLAN!!”
Rodimus had no idea what kind of plan Riptide and Megs, his massive shark friend, could have come up with, but he was willing to go along with it. Rodimus grinned. He might be the first sailor in history to be happy to see sharks swimming frantically towards him. Rodimus winked at Getaway. Turns out there was one bullshit friendship card left to play after all.
“Yeah. I’ve got some last words.” Rodimus returned his full attention to the irate siren currently choking the life out of him. He struggled to ease Tarn’s grip on his throat enough to shout, “NEVER DOUBT THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP!”