I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

PG-13
IDW
Sixshot/Trailbreaker Springer
possible dubcon, ref to interfacing of indeterminate type, dubious morals, evidence that I used to be a huge Anne McCaffrey fan, stupid headcanon to explain the forcefields and crack.
for tf_rare_pairing weekly request Sixshot/Trailbreaker, long way from home.  It just wouldn't get pronzy. I have failed you! ;-;

“Long way from home.”  The deep voice stopped Trailbreaker in his tracks. So much for stealth.  Trailbreaker lifted his hands, carefully, trying to figure a way to make a grab for his weapon that wouldn’t get his helm ventilated.

“Wanderlust,” he said. Not his best crack, but he figured he could be forgiven. Because he placed that voice: Sixshot. And yeah, you were allowed a bit of the nerves when alone with a psychotic Phase Sixer. In the dark.

“Have one klik to explain.” 

Wait. Something was wrong here. Like, seriously wrong. Sixshot wasn’t a chatty mech, he’d heard—well, not counting the things he’d heard about the Terrorcons—and he had an Autobot (Trailbreaker) dead to rights on what was apparently his ship.  There had to be a reason he hadn’t already ventilated the recon mech.  And Trailbreaker was pretty sure it wasn’t his awesome personality.

He turned his head, slowly. Yup.  Barrel of a gun, about a handspan from his head.  And he respected the Phase Sixer’s reflexes enough to figure he could pull the trigger before Trailbreaker could activate his forcefield. 

This is what you get for trying to conserve energy.

Then again that’s why he’d risked scouting the Decepticon ship in the first place: running low on his own supplies.  Great story that would make: starving to death before his rescue came.  If they even noticed he was missing.  Stuff of legends right there. Springer would revive him just to make fun of him.  “Looking for energon.”  Might as well say the truth.  The worst that could happen didn’t change.

“Energon.” Something calculating in the voice. “Got energon.”

If that was supposed to sound friendly, Sixshot was way off target.  “Good to know.”

“Turn around.” 

Trailbreaker didn’t know if that was a good thing or not:  he’d read the field manual  hostage addendum that Rung had written and it said most mechs would think twice before shooting a mech in the face, that it made it personal. 

But this was Sixshot, who could think twice and still shoot faster than most mechs. Still not turning around would probably end even worse.  Trailbreaker revolved, slowly, tipping his head up to the larger mech’s face.  The white facemask gave nothing away in the shadows and the orange-red optics seemed to dare him to try to be funny.

“Trailbreaker,” Sixshot said, one optic flicking down to a HUD readout.  “The forcefield one.”

Trailbreaker wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that: proud that he was apparently notorious or kind of blah that his moniker was ‘the forcefield one’.  It seemed kind of lame. “Yeah.”  That answer? Also a bit lame.

A long pause, the gun never moving. Not even shifting with the Phase Sixer’s ventilation. It was a little creepy, to be honest.  But not as creepy as when Sixshot spoke.

“Need your help.”

What? Since when did Sixshot have a sense of humor? Was it like Opposite Day or something?  Or maybe those crystals he’d seen outside on his tromp over here had been Regenesis crystals. He remembered how they’d fragged up Kup. He felt his engine race. Frag. He didn’t want to hallucinate about chatting with Sixshot.  If he had to hallucinate, why couldn’t it be, you know, something hot. Like morphobots.  Springer when he did that little dorky dance.  Twin Twist and Topspin being, you know, raunchy together.

He blinked. Nope. Still Sixshot, waiting for an answer.  “What…kind of help?” This whole thing felt weird.

“Crystal drive needs retuning.”  A pause. “I have energon.” 

Wow, kinda getting the idea why the Phase Sixer didn’t talk much.  Making sense of him was almost like doing math.  “You want me to retune your drive. And you’ll give me energon.”

“Yes.” The optics narrowed, as if daring him to laugh.

Trailbreaker wasn’t stupid. “And after you give me this energon, then what?”  Yeah, he’d also read Rung’s analyses of Phase Sixers. Overlord in particular seemed to get off on making deals more twisted than a bulletworm.

Sixshot glared at him. “I give you the energon.” His tone somehow seemed to imply that he thought Trailbreaker’s bulbs were a little dim. “You take the energon. You go back to your ship.” A jerk of his head, like asking if he had to continue.

“And we never speak of this again.” Yeah. Right.  Trailbreaker turned it over in his mind, trying to see the trick. Other than the obvious trick that a Decepticon probably didn’t feel bound by his word, to begin with.

“I won’t.” A glare.

Trailbreaker burst into a laugh. “Not like I’ve really got any choice.”

“You have a choice. Die now or live.” A pause. “You could die now knowing it would strand me here, but,” a shrug of one white shoulder. “You’re not the type.”

Trailbreaker found himself wondering how the frag Sixshot knew that much about him. Great time to find out you have a fan club. Springer would spit petrorabbits. “Not really the type to let a ‘con get away, though.”

“’Con.”  Sixshot smirked, almost amused.  Which was a creepy thought. “Not really a war situation here.”

“You’re holding a gun to my head.”  You know. Hello. Obvious!gun is obvious.

Another shrug. “You’re trespassing.”

….frag.  Sixshot had a point.  And the larger mech knew it.  “So. I don’t really have any choice.”

“No.”

“So.” A slightly off-kilter smile on Trailbreaker’s dark faceplates. “No need for the gun in my face, really, is there?”

“Makes me feel better.”

Well, it sure didn’t make Trailbreaker feel better.  Kind of nervous. You know, the high caliber death staring you in the face kind of nervous.  “Well, of course. I want you to feel good.”  As opposed to homicidal. 

“Considerate of you.”  

“Self-preservation, really.” Yeah, not really that much of a crime to admit you didn’t fancy getting gunned down in cold blood.  

“Hnh.”  The gun whisked out of sight, slipped into one of the holsters on his side. “Don’t need it to offline you, anyway.”

“Comforting thought.”   Trailbreaker was kind of figuring out why Sixshot worked alone. His people skills made Roadbuster look like Mr Personality. 

“I think so.” Sixshot stepped back, gesturing with one black palm. “Chamber’s this way.”

Trailbreaker shook his head. “I need some energon, now, to refuel the shield generators. And, you know,” he smiled broadly, “good faith gesture.” 

Another grunt, and the white mech turned to a storage locker behind him.  He tossed a green pouch at Trailbreaker.  Trailbreaker barely caught it, more than a little surprised.  Maybe Sixshot really was that desperate?  

“Gesture, at any rate,” Sixshot muttered. 

It was an emergency ration, rich with nutrients, and his systems sucked it down gratefully, regardless of the source.  “So, how fragged’s your ship?”

A hot glare. “Crystal drive, belly armor, some comm.”  A beat. “Yours is worse.” 

Yes, because suck was a competition, too. Somehow Trailbreaker didn’t really like that he was winning this one. “Nice to know you’re keeping tabs.”

“Enemy ship crashes. Recon. Seems you did the same.” A tilt of the white helm. “Only, you got caught.”

Yeah, yeah, rub it in.  But the energon was top notch and Trailbreaker found it hard to be suitably surly—and probably suitably on guard—with the hum of fresh fuel vibrating through his lines. “How bad’s the crystal drive off?”

“Whole system needs to be retuned.”  A meaningful look. “You know how to do that.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement of fact. Which meant Sixshot either was a really, really good guesser or he knew something. “That’s what the forcefields were for initially,” he said, neutrally. “Before the war.”  Good money in crystal drive repair.  Armoring was beyond him—not the kind this ship probably needed. And Sixshot probably knew the comm better than he did.  Not that he expected a Decepticon to let him near the encryption protocols.  Would be nice, though. Some way to salvage this fail of a mission.  Hey guys, remember that Regenesis planet you wanted me to scout? Yeah, I scouted it.  Scouted my damn ship right into it. 

Oh, and then I had to repair a Phase Sixer’s ship for him so I could get food enough to survive.  Frag. The energon had buoyed his mood a bit, but it only brought into sharper focus how stupid an idea this was. Too late now.  He was an Autobot and he’d already taken some energon.  He nodded, grimly, squirting the last of the ration into his mouth. Good faith gesture and all.  “Right. Let’s have a look.”

Sixshot shepherded him down the corridor to the achingly familiar rubber baffles that surrounded a crystal drive. It had been millennia since he’d seen one, the Autobots going the route of vapordrives. Crystal drives were more powerful, and didn’t need to be refueled, but they were also dangerously volatile.  In short, he thought, something a Decepticon would love.

Still, he felt a strange nostalgia, as he clicked on the harmonic protocols that had lain, long dormant, in his throat.  “What color?” he asked. He could already hear the sound reflect back to him from the acoustic shell of his windscreen.

“Blues.”

Blues.  Blues were reliable, high on the Mohs scale, gave good tone. The down sides were they were beasts to recut and resonated in bad areas of Trailbreaker’s frame. He’d been designed to handle reds.  Didn’t matter.  He could still do it.  “Right.” He activated the forcefields, and abruptly, everything seemed to cut off—the sounds, even the smell of the Devil King seemed to vanish, his feet barely able to feel something like flooring under his feet.

 He pushed through the baffles, into the darkened chamber to see the blue triad sitting in their mounts, knocked askew, the rubber stoppers shredded by the impact.  Interesting cut, he thought, tilting his head: an ornate shape of spires jutted from each of the three brackets, like some miniature fairy tale city.  He approached, pulling his crystal cutter from his storage, making a cautious, low note to hear what echoed. 

The sound seemed to catch itself among the spires, breaking into harmonies, fifths and sevenths and here and there a soured second.  He could feel the vibration against his forcefield.  Trailbreaker turned to the largest of the triad, taking a moment to distance-cast blocking fields over the other two fanciful blue pinnacles.  Bad resonance caused…very bad results.

Bad enough he was dealing with blues. He could already feel them, even through his forcefield, singing against him, a dim echo of their tones tickling over his net.

Right. He flicked the cutter on, reaching out to the first soured spire. This was going to take a while.

[***]

“You…helped Sixshot.”  Springer was torn between disbelief and…an even angrier denial.

“Kind of.”

“Kind of. This isn’t a kind-of situation, Trailbreaker. Tell me you planted a bomb in there or set the thing to blow or…something.”

“I didn’t.”  Oh sure, about a million ideas hit him now. 

“The frag were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t.”  Trailbreaker hunched lower in his seat, hands folded.

“Yeah, well…that’s clear.”  Springer seemed a bit off-kilter, as though expecting more resistance. Trailbreaker wished he could give him some.  “So, he just let you go.”

“Kind of.”

“’Kind of’,” Springer snapped. “Getting ‘kind of’ sick of hearing that.” He tapped his debrief application on his datapad meaningfully. “Step by step.  You made a deal.  He gave you energon. You fixed his fraggin’ hyperdrive.  And then you left. Did I miss any steps, there?”

Trailbreaker winced. “Yes.  The, uh, the one where we interfaced.”

“You.”  Springer reared back, his vocalizer sucking charge from his optics. “WHAT?”

Trailbreaker cringed, stopping his hands halfway to his audio. Frag that was loud. And shrill. And painful.  “I told you. Blues.  They hit me in…bad places.” 

“Bad. Places.”  Springer looked like he’d sucked on the wrong end of one of Kup’s cy-gars. 

“Yeah. He was surprised, at least?”  The white mech had not been expecting that—Trailbreaker grabbing him the klik he felt the rubber baffles seal behind him, throwing him against the wall, hands scraping down the teal sides, urgent and aroused.  Surprised, but apparently he got over it quick. Real quick, as Trailbreaker’s interface systems throbbed happily in memory. 

“Surprised.  Yeah. That’s really helpful, Trailbreaker. Now we know how to distract him next time we run into him.” 

“The sarcasm really isn’t helping.” Honestly. He was beginning to feel tired of feeling bad. He did what he had to. And then, well, fraggin' blues. Had to do that, too.  And he hoped Sixshot was getting the same lecture.  Well, kind of the same. 

“Neither is you 'facing the enemy!” 

“Look. I did my best, okay? I needed energon. And he gave me the parts to fix my comm.”  And no, no one had noticed him missing till he’d called in.Thanks, guys. 

“Just…gave you.”

“Said I’d earned it.” 

“I…” Springer shook his head, snapping his mouth shut. “Know what? Just…stop talking.  Because, really. The whole pictures-in-my-mind thing is really starting to hurt my cortex.” 

“Sorry,” Trailbreaker said, but then a sharp smile curled on his mouthplates. “Guess I shouldn’t tell you he gave me his comm if I ever wanted a repeat.”

The agonized shriek from the green mech’s vocalizer somehow made it all just fine.

Comments

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

*snerk!*

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

:D

[eerian_sadow]

hahaha! oh Springer! there really are some times that you shouldn't give your people the ammunition to use against you.

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

He's tough; he's a Wrecker. He can handle anything. Except knowing too closely what his team members are doing after hours! XD

[ravynfyre.livejournal.com]

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

omg, the part with Springer KILLED me! Sixshot is seriously becoming like the Autobot BadBoyToy!!! Loved this!

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

Sixshot had no choice! Poor mech. :P

[coriopsis.livejournal.com]

Which Anne McCaffrey series? I'm mostly familiar with the Dragonriders.

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

The Crystal Singer series. Not quite as prolific in that as in Pern, but some of her best worldbuilding.

[playswithworms.livejournal.com]

*snickergiggle* Breaking Springer's processor is way too much fun. Rock on, Trailbreaker! XD

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

Poor Springer. This is like twice this week I've had Trailbreaker traumatize him. XD

[ultrarodimus.livejournal.com]

*cackling madly* Springer is going to need some intense therapy after hearing that... I think I just heard his processor go "fzzt" XD

[gunmaxual.livejournal.com]

Laughing...so...hard...

[tiamat1972.livejournal.com]

Head cannon explanation for Trailbreaker's force field is awesome! McCaffrey references are WIN (I still love that series) but the icing on the oilcake is Trailbreaker breaking Springer's brain/CPU.

Now the only question is, did Trailbreaker give Sixshort his comm too?

cannot be arsed to log out of RP account so sue me

[demradials.livejournal.com]

Mwahaha, that was awesome. I dig your Sixshot so much, and the way you made the pairing work, and the harmonics, and fgsfsfafs. I hereby declare this not a fail! :D

[macboris.livejournal.com]

Ahaha, that was awesome.

Just one thing that bothered me. Sixshot can turn into a spaceship, right? So he wasn't stranded. But whatever, that's just me overthinking things. XD

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

Sixshot can turn into a spaceship, yes, but not one capable of carrying much cargo like fuel. :) So, he didn't have the ability to store enough fuel, NOR does he have an FTL capability (that I've seen in canon), so yes, stranded, even so.

Sorry I didn't belabor that point I didn't think it was important. :)

[macboris.livejournal.com]

No, it's not really. I know very little of IDW Sixshot anyway, I'm mostly going by what I remember from Marvel, which didn't make much sense anyway. Anyway, I liked the story. :D

[lithium223.livejournal.com]

Lmao. I almost feel sorry for springer.

[mmouse15.livejournal.com]

I have to admit, I love it when you break Springer's processor like that!

[death-hendry.livejournal.com]

lsdijilsbdvlisdhbivlsldbvilubb ALL MY LOVE FOR THIS.
I now have a new OTP. *Kicks Skyfire out and puts Trailbreaker in*

[ladyofdragons.livejournal.com]

EEEEEEEHEHEHEHEHE--- Oh god... this is snickertastic. I absolutely love the way you write Trialbreaker. I have a similar character I need to write and I can learn so many good things from you. Oh gosh yes. And the way you ended it. It's just... hilariously brilliant. Trailbreaker delivers the best lines and Springer is just SO fun to break. XD XD XD *pets them both*

Can I also adore that Sixshot is all about: "I do what I want. Including NOT killing you. WHAT, don't like it? TOO BAD." And he's so bad ass you just accept the unexpected parts because doing otherwise is still dangerous to your health. I also think he likes proving he's more than his reputation paints him as.

¬.¬ Uh, and can I be a fly on the wall of the repeat?

[okkkkay.livejournal.com]

You kind of made me laugh my spark out. My neighbors will forbid me reading in the middle of the night.

This was adorable in a way, and those blue crystals are matching I suppose. Thanks for sharing.