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shadow_vector2010-03-31 07:53 am
Sky and Ground 31: Eventuality
Verse: Bayverse
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Barricade/Skywarp, Thundercracker, Starscream
Warnings: adultish situations
Summary: Barricade confronts Thundercracker, Skywarp tries not to confront himself.
Barricade tossed for cycles on the empty berth, tormented by visions of what he could have done to cause this. He knew—he accepted—he’d always come second to the Trine. No: he admitted to an acid envy at the thought. But he would never fight it: it was a battle he couldn’t win. Best not to even try. Best to take what you can.
But…what had he done that had caused Skywarp to strip off the spark chamber cover? When had he done that? Barricade uncurled himself, his servos squeaking as he released from the tight ball he’d pulled himself into, and held the battered piece of metal up to his optics, as though he could perhaps read on its dinged up surface the story of disappointment, how he had let Skywarp down so badly, be so undeserving. He could find nothing. Skywarp had been so pleased to get it, almost awestruck. What could he have done to wreck that? His processor scoured his memory cache for anything he could have said or done before falling into recharge. Had he been too pushy? Is that what did it? Too insistent, too demanding?
No. That couldn’t be right. Skywarp had more than responded to his physical contact when he woke him up. If he’d done something so bad, Skywarp would not have gone that far, would he have? His systems stirred just at the memory, at the hot glow of Skywarp’s red optics, at the teasing tone in Skywarp’s voice.
But…what?
It was driving him crazy. He had to know. And the urge to know got stronger and stronger with each passing cycle, as each decaklik ticked by with agonizing slowness. He had to know. He had to find out. And the resentment burning near his spark chamber about the Trine taking him away built as well. He could not bring himself to get angry at Skywarp. But Thundercracker….
Barricade shoved himself off the berth, stopping only to stow the spark chamber cover carefully on one of his storage shelves. He was going to confront them. He would get answers. Even if he didn’t like them when he got them.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that Skywarp was in trouble. And (a thready voice suggested) needed him.
Needed him.
He stormed up to the A1 corridor, where the largest mechs berthed, to Starscream’s door. The code was unlocked. Which meant someone was in there. He slammed it open, remembering, suddenly, the very first time he’d coded this door—he’d needed overrides then—and seen Skywarp for the first time. Everything Skywarp was—beautiful, sensual, powerful, goading, a little untamed…. The memory struck him like a physical blow, and for a handful of kliks, he stood there in the open doorway, almost blinded by its force. Almost not seeing Starscream trembling in a pair of blue, familiar-looking arms. Thundercracker’s talons were soothing along Starscream’s back, his face nuzzled in Starscream’s throat.
Thundercracker’s optics homed in him, his hands going rigid against Starscream’s engines. “You must be Barricade,” he said, coldly.
He’s heard of me. At least he’s granted me a name, Barricade thought. “Where is Skywarp?” He was a little startled by the harshness in his own voice. He’d never had a nice voice—nothing like Skywarp’s warm, deep rumble—but this was hard and raw even for him. He could hear the pain in his own voice.
In Thundercracker’s arms, Starscream gave a little shudder, and a pathetic mewling noise. Skywarp might not blame Thundercracker, but Barricade did. For everything. “Skywarp,” he barked. “Where is he?”
“He’s not here, little grounder.” The tone said that he didn’t want to be asked any more, because he wouldn’t like the answer he’d have to give.
“He is not with you,” Starscream murmured. He ducked his head from under Thundercracker’s arm, reaching one hand to Barricade. “He has not returned to you?”
The flare of anger dowsed. Something was wrong with Starscream. He wasn’t ever like this. He looked…broken.
Barricade turned a hot, angry face toward Thundercracker, his hands balling into fists. “Last time. Where is he?”
Thundercracker laughed. “Does it bother you that he’s keeping secrets from you, grounder?”
Barricade ground his mouth together. “Keeping secrets from you, too, then, isn’t he?” he retorted. He knew he was right from the flash of white rage on the blue jet’s face.
“NONE of your concern.” Thundercracker pushed Starscream away, all of the twining compassion of his earlier embrace vanished. “We are a Trine. You are an outsider.”
The words struck to the very core, an agonizing deadly dart straight in his spark chamber. Outsider. Not one of us. Alone. He trembled, torn apart by pain and anger and fear.
“Barricade,” Starscream said, softly. He’d pushed himself up, leaning against the berth, stretching his long legs along the floor. He gestured Barricade forward, wincing as his right thigh bumped the deck plating. “He did not tell you where he was going?”
“He told me he was coming here.” Barricade forced his fists to uncurl. He stepped closer to Starscream, optics flicking warily to Thundercracker. “Has he been here?”
“Yes.” Starscream’s optics looked…odd. Haunted.
“You don’t need to tell him anything,” Thundercracker snapped.
“We have nothing to hide from Barricade,” Starscream said, quietly. “He is Skywarp’s chosen companion.”
“Skywarp has made poor choices in the past,” Thundercracker said. Barricade’s temper boiled. Was he really supposed to stand here and take this? Not just the crack about him—he’d heard more than enough of those, and sharper ones, that this one barely cut. But the implication that Skywarp had done anything wrong—ever—enraged him. He began rounding on the blue jet, until a long bronze hand on his shoulder, threaded through his kibble, stopped him.
“He has gone flying,” Starscream said. “As he said he would.” The optics flickered in their cages up to Thundercracker. “He did not lie.”
“I never said he did.” Flat denial—too flat.
“We do not know his whereabouts, either,” Starscream explained. “We had thought that perhaps he had returned to you.”
Part of Barricade wanted to lie and say he had, at least for a bit before taking off…wherever, just to see the look on Thundercracker’s face. “Can’t you get him on comm?” He could, too, but…it still felt like an invasion of Skywarp’s privacy. He hadn’t dared. He wasn’t wanted. His own thoughts, his own worries, just coming from Thundercracker as accusations, as truths.
Starscream’s hand squeezed shakily against his shoulder. “We cannot. He has cut his comm lines.”
Barricade’s hot rage crackled, frozen. They couldn’t get in touch with him? No. Barricade activated his comm, the private freq. Nothing. Starscream read the stricken look in his optics. “We are worried, also, Barricade.”
“We are not worried,” Thundercracker said. “Skywarp is prone to fits of…histrionics.”
“I do not think that this—“
“Skywarp was overemotional, Starscream,” Thundercracker cut his Trine mate off, abruptly. “You know that. He wants us to worry about him.”
“He has never,” Starscream murmured, almost a whisper, not daring to fully defy his Trine mate, “wanted us to worry about him.”
“Oh yes,” Thundercracker said, “That was you. I’m sorry, I forgot.”
Starscream flinched. Barricade’s fists balled again. “Leave. Him. Alone,” Barricade said, not caring how ugly his voice sounded now.
“Or you’ll do what?” Thundercracker leaned back, amused.
It was ridiculous: he was half of Thundercracker’s height and armed with a pitiful spoke weapon and a double handful of talons. Compared with the chain guns, lethal barbs on every limb, missile launchers…he must look pretty foolish.
He didn’t care. “This isn’t an ‘or’ thing,” he said. “This is how you treat Starscream.” And Skywarp. He had no doubt now as to who was responsible for driving Skywarp away. From all of them. The spark chamber cover seemed almost insignificant now. He wanted Skywarp. Perhaps Starscream’s worry was contagious. It certainly felt like it—a racing restless coldness taking over his limbs, numbing everything except his aching, aching spark. He would give anything to hear Skywarp’s voice again, even if to be told goodbye. Just…be safe, wherever you are, he thought, desperately. The comm freq was dead, but he sent it over anyway. As if he were trying to talk to a ghost.
“That is a Trine matter as well,” Thundercracker said, his tone breezy, dismissive, “And before you decide to interfere, recall that this whole thing is because a grounder came where he wasn’t wanted.”
Where he wasn’t wanted. The phrase echoed in the darkest, hollowest parts of Barricade’s cortex.
**
If love was so wonderful…why was he so miserable? Because it showed him his flaws in high relief, unremitting detail.
Skywarp flew, fast and long, changing vectors and speed without any real plan where he was going, other than to get away. As if he could outrun himself. Astrogation off. Eventually he’d have to go back. Eventually he’d have to face Starscream for his cruelty; Thundercracker for his rage, and Barricade for his…everything. Eventually.
The cold of space had done nothing to soothe the heat of his…he didn’t even know what to call it. Rage was almost inadequate to describe it. It was a heat, a non-physical heat that dulled his processors while still, somehow, keeping his senses at maximum. No dulling of his pain here. No escape into blank benediction. He just knew he felt hot and…unsafe. Unsafe to be around, unsafe to even talk to. He had heard clicks as others had tried to contact him—open chan and his private freq. He hadn’t answered. Not trusting himself, and then…embarrassed by his shut down and flight. Trapped in his own fury, not knowing how to open up, how to release.
He stopped, cutting his thrusters, shifting modes to hang in space, limbs limp and helpless, exposing as much of himself to the cold of space. As if that would cool him.
How could he go back? How could he face…Starscream, even after what he had said: the deliberate infliction of the worst wound he could make. Hitting him, beating him would have been less cruel. He was (cowardly) glad that he hadn’t seen the cutting remark strike home, yet…Thundercracker would use it to turn Starscream against him.
No. He couldn’t think like that. He couldn’t allow himself to consider the consequences in terms of alliances. That ducked the true issue of the consequences—the core deep pain he had knowingly, callously, willfully, inflicted on Starscream.
And for what? What had Starscream done to pull forth that wrath? It was Thundercracker he was angry at. Thundercracker, who deserved rage and blame. But he had become so accustomed to Starscream that to take everything out on him, to direct every impulse, good and bad, onto the bronze jet had become almost reflex. And part of himself knew (and hated knowing) that Starscream would forgive him, even this betrayal.
You should die. The voice came from someplace deep in his cortex. It didn’t sound like Thundercracker, for a change. You deserve no less punishment, it said. Destruction is all you are good for: destruction in battle, destruction on the ones you allegedly love. The more you love them, the more you hurt them. Awful, awful creature.
You should die. But…what would that do? Starscream would…collapse. He was already teetering on the brink, trembling to implode. Skywarp knew he was the opposite—more primed to explode, burst open, scatter across others, his rages and pain turning into deadly shrapnel. Which was why he had come out here, he realized. Where no one would be hurt. Could he inflict that final, fatal blow upon Starscream? Could he leave Starscream, in such ruination, to Thundercracker? Was his death actually…worse than his life?
And Barricade…?
He could not even bear to think what it would do to the grounder. He knew, and hated, the power this gave him because he feared his ability to abuse it: Barricade clung to him with a pure, clean faith. What would his death do to that? Ruin something else beautiful.
All he had to do, the thought came suddenly, that insistent, seductive, voice again, would be to NOT move. All he had to do was float here, his systems exposed to the cold of space, ungreased. It would take time: it would take courage not to give in, to move, to save himself. If he could manage to stay perfectly still, he would die. Eventually. That word again.
Two eventuallies. Either go back and face the chaos you’ve sown—however inadvertently—or stay here and die. Which required more courage? Which was less like cowardice?
He sighed, steeling himself, and kicked on his astrogation.
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(I want to snuggle Barricade for standing up to Thundercracker)
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I can't help but feel that there is hope for them yet...
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\o/
and also
D:
...okay I can say more. Oh Barricade - I know it's good for him to confront Thundercracker right now, he really needs it, but - oh, so angry, and it is probably such a bad idea in the long run. He's stepping on toes. They should be stepped on, but... dangerous. *frets* And Skywarp... It is probably not a good thing that I empathize so strongly with him in this piece. Sometimes it really does boil down to how much you'll hurt the ones you love, rather than whether or not you'll hurt them. I hope they make good choices. :(
Is it weird that I want Thundercracker to be happy? D: He's trying so hard to keep them all safe.
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Man, after that rambling tangent I have got to wonder if Thundercracker isn't just as messed up, though in different ways, as Starscream and Skywarp.
From your writing, Barricade is getting an optic full that something is very off with this trine. (the look at Barricade's thoughts with the conversation in Starscream's room between the three, the interaction between Starscream and Barricade especially considering Starscreams current mental condition and Barricades realization of it)
At the same time, I was pleased to see Barricade realize that as much as he may dislike it, with Skywarp as a Seeker, the trine will always come first. At the same time I suspect in a healthy trine, this type of relationship would not be the huge problem it has shaped into in regards to all invested parties.
I did like Starscreams line to Thundercracker regarding Barricade being Skywarp's chosen companion. Even as messed up in the head as he is at the moment, it was a mild rebuke at Thundercracker. Perhaps even as strong a one as he can make. I think Starscream is caught in the middle of his trinemates as they take up stances.
Skywarp, sometimes the best you can hope for is just not hurt the ones you love to badly. Cause there will be hurt. ANd probably a lot more of it before it gets better.
Hey, thank you for sharing.
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Damn, but you know your characters well, don't you? Skywarp's thoughts regarding his own reaction, how he anticipates Starscream will handle what he has done and in addition to his concerns regarding Thundercracker and Barricade are just so in line with the way you've written him up until this point. Something which really struck me was when Skywarp concluded that Starscream would forgive him for what he had said, even though he wouldn't deserve it, just because that is how Starscream is; that was such a call-back to the end of "Summoned," where Starscream is delirious but still forgiving Skywarp.
Okay, long comment is long. But le damn, you've seriously got me looking forward to Wednesdays with this story of yours. I can't wait to read more!
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*snuggles them all. Except Thundercracker. Who may or may not be snuggled later depending on behavior in next chapters. Worst case scenario I may be forced to give him a fearsome poking*
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*sighs* They're all obviously broken it's just in different ways isn't it? Even TC (*glares at him still*).
Poor Warpy *cuddles him* as angst ridden and depressing as it is I adore his inner monologue at the end there; is soooooooooo well done ^___^
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And Skywarp.. oh baby... Living is not a cowardly move... 'cause as long as you live you have a chance to do something, fix something... even if it hurts.