Consummation

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

PG
IDW  AUish?  Turmoil has Wing as a captive.
Turmoil, Wing, Drift
no warnings
Fortf_rare_pairing  weekly request Turmoil Drift Wing Such Sweet Sorrow

 

It hadn’t taken long, and Wing hated the part he had played in it.  He remembered the haze of the sensor block, scrambling his feeds, taking away the pain, like a benediction, but not stopping there—eating at his coherence, until he’d lolled before the vid feed, helpless, pitiful.  And he remembered begging, even through that, Drift not to come, to stay away.  And he remembered, also, the familiar stubborn hardness on Drift’s face through the transmission. And he knew that Drift would come. Not even the haze of the overthreaded sensorblock could take the pain of that realization away.

Turmoil had been…almost gentle with Wing in the interim.  Part was simply his malign wisdom—there was something to be lost if Wing were to die before Drift came.  And part was also Turmoil’s twisted logic—which Wing despaired that he had come to understand—that Wing had been valuable to him, and valuable objects should be treated with care.

Still as objects, however.

Turmoil lay Wing atop his bulky chassis, the shattered wings against his dark armor, so that the fitfully sparking wires tripped against him. His deep voice rumbled through Wing’s frame, as he toyed, idly, with one of Wing’s hands. “You could,” he said, slowly, as if testing out the possibility himself, “become a Decepticon.”

Wing shook his head. “No.”  His optics dully watched his hand, waiting for the inevitable pain.

“Really, Wing,” Turmoil purred, “Your defiance gains you nothing.” He laughed. “Well, nothing good.” He pinched the base of one of the fingers, enough for Wing to flinch from the crimping of the thin plating.

“Gains me myself,” Wing said.  He was tired of the pain, but neither was an excuse to stop fighting.  And though he couldn’t resist physically—not against Turmoil, not in his present condition—well, there were other ways of fighting.

“Yourself.”  Turmoil’s voice broke the word into faceted chunks. “So your ‘self’ is more important than the war.”

“War is only important to those who have invested in it.”

“And you have not,” Turmoil said, reasonably.  He dropped one hand to Wing’s chassis, broad fingers roaming the intricate angles and planes. “Then what is all your pain worth, Wing. What is the result of all your suffering?”

Wing wished he had an answer.

[***]

“Let me see him.”  Drift’s voice, quieter than Wing remembered, but still with that edge of command.  Turmoil's mass bulked between them, hiding Wing from view.

“Drift,” Turmoil said, letting the syllable roll in his vocalize, as though tasting it. “It’s almost like you don’t trust me.”

“I can’t imagine why.” 

“Have I ever lied to you?”  Turmoil managed to sound affronted.

“Things change.”

“Do they, Deadlock?  Or is that just what you need to tell yourself?”  Turmoil laughed and pushed Wing in front of him, in a clumsy stumbling fall. "Tell me, has he changed?"

A sudden sharp silence, as though sound and feeling had been sucked from the room, as Drift’s optics raked over Wing’s damaged frame.  Nothing had escaped unscathed from Turmoil’s attentions, armor dented, scraped, bent, long scores in the metal plates, and of course, the gaping, charred wire-vomiting mass on his back where his wings used to be.

Drift swore, the word hard and harsh. “He comes with me,” he said.

“And…where exactly is it you think you are going?” 

Drift lunged forward, and Wing felt a strong bar of an arm hook under his chassis, hauling him backwards.  “Away from you.” Wing's feet scrabbled on the floor.

“Ah.  Plans as well thought out as ever, I see.” 

It was, Wing decided, the dry amusement in Turmoil’s responses that seemed so utterly disturbing.  Total control, control enough that any defiance was merely an amusement to him.  It was one thing to hear that wry laugh directed at himself—something different to hear it aimed at Drift.

“Leave me,” Wing murmured.  I begged you not to come, he added silently. I didn’t want you to see me like this. 

“Can’t give me orders anymore, Wing,” Drift murmured, voice strangely gentle.

Wing squirmed, trying to free himself, as Drift heaved up, lifting him to his feet.  His wings guttered against the broad shoulder.  Wing turned and saw the face—beloved, familiar—the same petulant jut of the chin, but with a new softness in the mouth, as though Drift had somehow, in the interim, learned to smile. 

Wing had forgotten, himself.

 “You saved me,” Drift said, pressing one of his blades into Wing’s hands.  Wing felt his palms curl over the cool metal, his frame straightening as if gaining strength from the contact. Wing saw a flash of blue optics graze his face.

“You don’t owe me,” Wing said. “That’s not how it works.”

A quirk of a smile, as though this were some familiar joke. “I save lives,” Drift said.  “Because of you.”

A loud, theatrical ‘tsk’.  “Sweet,” Turmoil said.  “Such a tender reunion. But I’m afraid,” he tilted his head, bringing his right arm to bear, the cannon buzzing to full charge, “the only place you two are going is the Pit.”

A brush of contact between them, hands gripping the swords, haunches dropping into combat crouches, an exchanged glance.  “No,” Wing said, and gaining strength from his renewed purpose, lunged forward. He'd done this before for Drift; he'd do it again.

 

 

 

Comments

[http://users.livejournal.com/__wilderness__/]

I think it's perfect ending just there. I love that Drift came for Wing... though, did we honestly expect him to stay away?

[velvet-infinity.livejournal.com]

Do we get to see what happens after?? Or does this end??

[kamiraptor.livejournal.com]

Yup, great place to end it, even if I'm curious to see the whole story spin out! :-D

Drift, in this, was... I don't really know how to say it. But Wing noticing the "as if he'd learned to smile" thing was just such a stunning visual for me, and I felt the love between them. :3

(also sorry if I misquoted you, too hard to copypasta right now)

[playswithworms.livejournal.com]

Agree with kamiraptor on the "as if he had learned to smile" moment, lovely. And that's a completely marvelous way to end. Dammit. Because I want to see more!

[mieka-writes.livejournal.com]

very Drift.. very VERY Wing at the end and Turmoil is still an afthead..

would LOVE to see what happens next.. but know how the muses are

[ithilgwath.livejournal.com]

*tilts head at title, then reads through again*

Damnit, I'm missing something. Unless there's more coming that will explain it. *stares at fic. Staaaaaaares* ...maybe it's 'cause I just woke up and my brain isn't fully online yet.

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

sorry it wasn't well written. Wing dies at the end. Perhaps the title change helps. *shrug*

[silaphet.livejournal.com]

this made me happy ... & sweet sad ... i love wing ... the ultimate sacrifice, the penultimate proof of love

[aughoti (from livejournal.com)]

Really enjoyed this, though your Turmoil is about ninety kinds of terrifying.

“Gains me myself,” Wing said.
That really is the core of the character right there, for me.

And it's perfect where it ends; reminds me of a samurai movie where at the last frame you know the hero is about to die, but you can still hope that he saved his companion. Which, from Wing's POV, is what matters.