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shadow_vector2010-03-19 02:47 pm
Words Fail
Title: Words Fail
Author: antepathy
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Skywarp, Thundercracker
Summary: Skywarp is in the brig and confronted by Thundercracker
A/N:This had no continuity requested so I (stupidly) picked Bayverse and worked it in as a prequel to other Seeker fics I’m writing. Which makes me sound like a whore pimping my own…stuff. My other fills for springkink are actually *gasp* canon compliant, so….forgive this one, please?
What you need to know: The four (Skywarp, Thundercracker, Starscream and Skyfire) were a unit of four, and Skyfire died, and Starscream blames himself. If you actually want to read the fic, it’s here)
PromptTransformers. Thundercracker/Skywarp hurt/comfort. “Sometimes I wish that I could stop you from talking/when I hear the silly things that you say/I think somebody better put out the big light/'cause I can't stand to see you this way”
They’d kept the lights on, a couple of thousand watts blaring down at him: supposed to be, he guessed, a punishment. Disrupt his recharge. He didn’t mind the lights, didn’t mind how the low-charge fog in the back of his processor blocked him from thinking.
Skywarp hated thinking. Especially right now. The idea was, the Seeker had said, grimly, coldly, as he thrust Skywarp behind the forcefield, that he should use this time to reflect upon his sins, and how he’d let down his Trine. Skywarp had caught him stuttering at the unit name. Everyone still considered them a Quaterne. Skywarp knew he did. He could feel—they all could feel—Skyfire like a heavy ghost. His promise, his potential, haunted them more than anything.
Well, reflecting would be entertaining enough: he’d done enough wrong, some of it still undiscovered. But every time he let his mind wander from pacing the cell, measuring the distance of his footsteps, the way the stark shadows sliced across the floor, it raced back to…Starscream and what he had seen. And how his spark ached, almost as if sliced in a hundred places, rawly burning at the sight of his Trine mate, crouching in the back wall of the washrack, the sound of the talons screeching down the underside of his armor plates, vents thick and ragged. So totally focused was Starscream on the pain he was causing himself he hadn’t even noticed Skywarp’s presence, hadn’t even felt the shock and fear across their nascent trine link that Skywarp, the slow one, was still learning how to control.
Skywarp had fled. Even now he wasn’t sure if Starscream had even seen him. He hoped not. Hoped he could at least let Starscream feel that his privacy, his one last thing, hadn’t been taken from him. He didn’t know how to proceed. Tell Thundercracker? Tell the Seeker trainers? Try to talk to Starscream himself?
All right, that last, he thought, was a stupid idea. Skywarp had absolutely no skill with words. He’d only make things worse. And the Seeker trainers? So much for any of the progress they had made in the last decacycles, pulling themselves from the lowest ranking Trine to the highest. All due to Thundercracker’s taking charge. Trines had no leaders, but, well, someone had to take charge at times. If their trainers knew…all that hard work, for nothing.
If Starscream wanted to talk about it, he would. Skywarp had to trust that. But…maybe he could signal he was willing to listen? Listen, he could do.
Skywarp gave up—the pacing was no longer working to distract him. He flung himself on a berth, his engines rattling against the cold metal. He focused his optics on the ceiling lights, as if trying to outstare them.
*
“Skywarp?” Thundercracker’s voice pulled him out of his…disappearance. Skywarp had managed to stare at the light with such intensity that the cutting whiteness had become an all-encompassing experience, filling his processor entirely with half-messages of pain and attempts to cycle to a polarizing optical filter to override. Skywarp did not want to reappear. He grunted, pushing himself up to a sitting position. Thundercracker. He’d have to tell him, if the blue jet didn’t already know. He smiled, grimly, acutely aware of the judgment in Thundercracker’s gaze, the gold brassards of Trine cadetleader on his arms. “What,” Thundercracker asked, apparently rhetorically, “are we going to do with you?” He looked only half-bemused.
“Thundercracker,” Skywarp said. “Look, I know you want to eat me alive. But first. Starscream.”
“Do not.” Thundercracker cut him off with a gesture. “Do not even try that, Skywarp. Stop being a coward and own up to what you did without trying to distract me.”
“I’m not trying to avoid it. This is really important.”
Thundercracker shrugged, grudgingly. “All right. Let’s hear this.”
“It’s…uhhh….Starscream. I mean, can’t you feel it?” Skywarp struggled. Great. Now that he had his chance, the words eluded him, zipping from his grasp like clever insects. How could he describe it? “He’s…he’s hurting himself.”
Thundercracker rolled his optics. “Starscream is performing adequately. If he were overstraining, he would have told me.”
“No! Not that way. He’s hurting himself!” Dammit, the words would not come! “He, with his talons…and….” He gestured vaguely toward his forearm armor, where he’d seen Starscream digging away at his own, shut-opticked and gasping at the pain, face turned into the pour of cleanser as though it were a blessing. And suddenly, without his real awareness, his voice cut off. What did he think Thundercracker would do? Help? Looking at the blue jet’s face…there was no help there. He regretted the words he’d already said.
Skywarp sagged. “You’re right. Never mind. He’d’ve said something if he were overstraining.” But he’s NOT, Skywarp’s processor argued. “Just…being stupid.”
“Yes.” Thundercracker said, folding his arms over his chassis. “Once again, what have you failed to do?”
“Consider consequences,” Skywarp said. He could repeat this by rote. But, as Thundercracker knew, him saying it and him…following through on it were two unrelated concepts. “Look, no one would’ve gotten hurt except me. So I don’t know what the big deal is.”
“The big deal!” Thundercracker fumed for a long moment, then forced himself, visibly, to calm down. “The big deal, Skywarp, is that you could have gotten hurt.” Thundercracker lay a palm on his side of the forcebarrier. “ Doesn’t that mean anything to you? Do you know what that would do to Starscream? Especially if you’re so concerned about him?”
Skywarp quailed back. No. No he hadn’t thought what Starscream would do, how he would take the pain of another loss. He felt a burning ache, as though Thundercracker had kicked him, right through the barrier.
“Why do you do these things, Skywarp?” Thundercracker’s face was sad. “Please tell me. I want to know.”
“Didn’t—I didn’t mean to hurt you. Or Starscream.”
Thundercracker’s voice gentled. “Yes, I know. We know. You wouldn’t knowingly hurt us. And you know we wouldn’t hurt you, right?”
“Of course not.” Skywarp placed his own hand on the opposite side of the barrier.
“Please help me understand….” Thundercracker’s voice was a thin whisper. “Why you do these things? To us? To yourself?”
“I don’t know!” Skywarp wailed. “I saw Starscream and…in the washrack…and…I don’t know I guess it set me off and…I thought if I did something…you know…I…just had this energy and it had to go somewhere and….” His hands closed helplessly on the empty air. Thundercracker, on the other side of the barrier, unable to reach him. And he, unable to reach Thundercracker. Stupid words. Stupid Skywarp. He dropped to his knees, clumsy and dumb.
“Sometimes,” Thundercracker said, “I wish I could stop you from talking when you say such…,” he shook his head, “silly, incoherent things.” He knelt on the opposite side of the barrier. “I can’t stand seeing you like this.” Skywarp ducked his head, humiliated. Thundercracker continued. “I don’t mean here, in Holding. I mean…you’re out of control, Skywarp. After everything we’ve done. You still…can’t even control yourself.”
“I know,” Skywarp whispered, staring fixedly at the black barbs on his hands.
Thundercracker shook his head. “I’ve failed us.”
“No….” Thundercracker had done his best, but…nothing could make things right. Skyfire was dead and Starscream was trying to die, if slowly and Skywarp couldn’t seem to control this restless roil of energy, this terror that if he stopped, if he slowed down, he’d shake apart, pieces flying in all directions with…nothing left at the center.
“We’ve been terrified with worry. I still am, Skywarp, because you know this isn’t a one-off.”
“I know,” Skywarp repeated, as though this were a familiar catechism.
“Well?” Thundercracker’s voice was gentle. “What do we do to fix it?”
There was no way to fix it. No way to fill that hole in his spark left by Skyfire. No way any of them could. He clutched absently at the piece of Skyfire’s armor Thundercracker had given him. “I…I don’t know.”
“I do. Skywarp, you have to trust me. We’ll find…something else for you to do with that energy. Some way that doesn’t hurt you, or us, or our Trine standing.” He pushed to his feet. Skywarp rose, unsteadily. “And Skywarp…if you want, I’ll ask about Starscream hurting himself. We can find a way to help that, too.”
No…. He couldn’t…STILL…make the words come, and the hard lights shone down on him, cutting shadows, like tears, under his eyes.
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Poor Skywarp just wanting to help, TC need ing to fix it his way and my heart bleeds for Starscream
So sad :(
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