Sucked Into the Void

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

PG
IDW
Infestation
Drift,  Ratchet
WARNINGS: Mention of in-canon character death. And if you haven't read Infestation or AHM 15 "Everything in its Right Place", this will make NO DAMN SENSE to you. 
ALSO this is a h/c fic...kind of. Prompt: zombie apocalypse.

 

A flash of darkness—it sounded impossible, but there it was—and then…nothing.  Drift rose, uncertainly, from his crouch, swords still warily braced in front of him, against an apparently disappeared enemy.  That…thing. Britt?  Gone, the monstrous shambling things gone with her, but…Kup was gone as well. Kup: the only mech who gave him a chance, who took him for who he was, rather than who he had been. 

“Kup,” he said, and the sound was the sound of air being sucked from his vents. No.  Of all the mechs, not Kup.  He felt his grip loosen: he tightened them again, on the twin blades, even though there were no more enemies to kill. He wished there were—something to focus his mind on, something to build a wall of time between the moment and himself.

Don’t think. Just do. Just fight. It’s all Drift knew, all he’d ever known. And he’d gladly bury himself back in that but…no enemies. 

“You all right?”  Ratchet’s face slewed into his vision.

“Yeah,” Drift said, distantly, optics flitting to what had been the epicenter.  “All right.” He hated that he was on guard, even around his ‘allies’. 

Ratchet frowned, the expression almost imperceptible. Drift possibly wouldn’t have caught it himself if he hadn’t been used to Perceptor. “Did they get you? Even a scratch?”

“No.”  He twitched, Ratchet circling him, examining him. Another small gesture of mistrust. No. Not mistrust; don’t be so quick to throw up that wall, Drift, he castigated himself.  On the same side.  Even though, right now, with a sidelong glance over at Galvatron, it was hard to discern sides anymore. 

“Going to want you to decon.”

“Fine.”  Wouldn’t be the first or last time.  Perceptor had been adamant about decontamination procedures when facing the Swarm.

The Swarm.  First the Swarm and now this…. Which was not a Decepticon plot, but had started as one, started as the Expansion.  How far had the Decepticons fallen?  How far down that path had he let himself be lead, all unthinking?  Complicit through his silence? How long had he been blind to methods, seeking only results?

Here’s your result: Kup’s gone.  The first ally you ever made.  Gone. You couldn’t save him, Drift.  You knew that Perceptor…presumed you would take care of Kup, keep an optic out, and a hand as a shield, around him. And you failed. You failed Kup. You failed Perceptor.  You failed yourself and every ideal you’ve tried to become. 

“Kup,” he said, again, numb.  “He’s gone.”

Ratchet gave a distracted grunt. “Seems like it.”

“Seems like it?” That’s…all Ratchet had to say?

“Look.”  Ratchet gave an aggrieved sigh. “I’ve got injured to look after. Kup knew what he was doing.”

“Did he?”  Drift sheathed his swords, the blades’ metal hissing into the scabbards with the anger he couldn’t allow himself to feel.

Ratchet cocked his head at the challenge.  “Kup’s not stupid. Nor is he new to war, Drift.”

Drift growled. “I’m not new to war,” he countered. “That…wasn’t war.”  He didn’t know what the word for it was, but…no, not war. 

Ratchet’s mouth tightened for a long moment, then softened. “No. it wasn’t.  But it’s Kup.  He’d want to die a hero.”

“Hero.” The word was meaningless to Drift.  ‘Hero’ was a lie mechs told about dead mechs to try to make up for their loss. It didn’t.  All it did was make the hurt bigger, harder. “Besides. How do you know he’s dead?” 

The question seemed to cut the charge from Ratchet’s vocalizer.

“It’s the Dead Universe,” Drift pushed. “Everything there is dead.  But it’s not…death.”  Kup, still alive, wandering what he’d been told was a hellish wasteland.  He remembered a bit from the files.  He had that much security clearance to know that was not something he wanted to mess with. He was a groundfighter: metaphysical stuff like that was…beyond him.

And he wanted it to stay that way. 

“We have to concentrate on the living,” Ratchet said, but under the severe tone, even Drift heard the shock and pain and he realized that Ratchet’s scrutiny of his systems wasn’t mistrust but the mech’s own way of trying to reclaim stability, step back from the ledge Drift was teetering on.  “They need us.  We can do something for them.” 

“You can,” Drift said.  He tapped his swords. “I can’t.” What good was he in the aftermath?  Then again, what good was he doing taking up Ratchet’s time?  “You have injured to attend to,” he said, quietly, stepping back. “I’ll decon back at base.”

“Drift—“  Drift could sense Ratchet’s effort, trying to reach out, beyond walls both of them had erected to survive the war at all. And for a moment he wavered. But who was reaching out to Kup? Who was even worrying?  How many of them simply shrugged and swept Kup’s disappearance off into a box labeled ‘hero’?

“I’m fine,” he said. “Not the first friend I’ve lost.”  Hopefully the last. If anything happened to Perceptor…. 

“It doesn’t get any easier,” Ratchet said, but he stepped back, too, neither wanting any more conflict, any more tension.  “It’s tempting to lash out, try to find someone to blame.”

“Yes,” Drift acknowledged, and his gaze floated over the other Autobots, settling on Prowl.

 

Comments

[mieka-writes.livejournal.com]

ohhh ouch.. and even knowing he still finds someone to poke...

[silaphet.livejournal.com]

"zombie apocalypse" explains everything, haven't read Infestation or AHM 15 but can fill in the blanks easily with that cue. Ratchet's coping & insights here are most intriguing for me.