For Your Own Good.

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

PG
IDW
Bumblebee, Prowl, Metalhawk
spoilers for Death of Optimus Prime.
Notes: DERP I LIKE METALHAWK.  I mean, lol, for tf_speedwriting prompt backpfeifengesicht, which apparently means someone who needs a good slap

 

Bumblebee leaned heavily on his cane as he led the way into the wreck of Kimia, where the Autobots had set up a temporary headquarters.  Who did this Metalhawk think he was, anyway?  Mech looked he’d snap in half at a dirty look, much less facing down a Decepticon in combat.  As Bumblebee had done, how many times?

A little respect, really, was all he asked for.

He gave a sour frown at Prowl as he turned into one of the briefing rooms. Prowl looked just as unhappy to see the newcomer as Bumblebee felt.  At least someone was on the same page here.

Now, wait, Bumblebee, he scolded himself. That’s not fair.  The Autobots had done a great job pulling together after that whole…thing.  Megatron taking on that megagestalt thing.  They’d rounded up the Decepticons while they were still disoriented and fortified the base.  All under his leadership. His. 

He stopped, abruptly, just so that Metalhawk would have to swerve to avoid hitting him.  “What is it this time?” There was no point disguising the irritation in his voice.

“This time,” Metalhawk didn’t bother, either.  “We want to know when you’re going to stop enforcing this ridiculous curfew.  We’re trying to rebuild.”

“The curfew is for your safety,” Prowl interrupted.  “We can’t patrol effectively without safety measures that keep the innocent off the streets.”

“You don’t need to patrol at all,” Metalhawk countered.  “We don’t need your policing, your laws, or your oppression.” Light flashed off the red blades on his forearms as he planted his hands on his hips.  Almost, Bumblebee thought, as though he was trying to look like he took up more room than he did. 

“You’re coming back to our planet,” Bumblebee said, tapping his cane meaningfully on the ground, as though planting a flag in it.  “You come back to our laws. Simple as that.”

“Your planet?”  Metalhawk tilted his head, speaking slowly as though he thought Bumblebee was a bit dim. “This is Cybertron. It belongs to Cybertronians. All of us.”

“It belongs to Autobots,” Bumblebee snapped, bridling under the insult. “We fought for it. We died for it. It’s ours.”

“You destroyed it.”

“You were part of it,” Prowl said, arms folding across his chassis.  “You fought for us, remember?”

“Until I saw what we were doing.  Planet after planet ravaged by our lust for control.”  He sneered. “As here.  You still haven’t learned anything.”

“We won! What’s to learn?”   Really, Metalhawk got on his high horse sometimes. It got really old, really fast, especially when Bumblebee had other things to do.

“You won nothing.” Metalhawk scowled. “I’ve heard you simply hid while others fought.”

Bumblebee felt fury surge through him, his hand gripping the cane hard enough to ping-break a small wire. Megatron and the gestalt had fought. There hadn’t been a good opportunity to engage.  And it was simply good tactics to sit back and let two enemies attack each other.  Just shows how much Metalhawk didn’t understand war. “Now you yell at us for not fighting.  Make up your mind, Metalhawk.”

“My mind is made up. This is an illegal occupation, and I am here to demand that it cease, immediately.”

“Illegal by whose laws?” Prowl, hostile, but probing. “Under what authority?”

“The Galactic Council,” Metalhawk said. 

A bluff. It had to be a bluff, and a bad one.  No way the Council would have said anything without contacting Bumblebee himself.  “Really.”

“Galactic accords state that terrain belongs to the indigenous.”

“We are the indigenous!” Bumblebee snarled, just about out of patience. Not even the fact that Metalhawk was obviously just trying to chapter and verse him without having actually heard from the Council could take the edge off.  “This is our home!”

“We saw what you did to our home last time,” Metalhawk countered.  “Your very attitude, your very labeling us, arresting us of being guilty of…being mobile after dark, or whatever charges you’re holding Suiken under—“

“We’re merely detaining him,” Prowl said.  “We’re not required to correlate that to any specific penal code.” 

Metalhawk’s shoulders shifted, high and tight, the way he used to hold them before combat, the sharp raptor hooks on his wrists glinting. “You are now. By me.”

“It’s for his own protection,” Bumblebee said.

“I’ll be the judge. Let me see him.”

“No.”  Prowl straightening to every last micron of his height. 

“No? Under what cha--,” Metalhawk cut himself off. “Under what ridiculous rationalization do you even think you can justify that?”

“Under the fact that you may exchange vital information.”

“You can be there with me.”

“Coded.”

Metalhawk’s frame shook with outrage for a moment, his hands curling into fists, before he visibly forced himself calm, flattening out his hands.  He vented.  “I see.” A nod, abrupt, gold crest flashing.  “I see how it is.  I see that talking is going to accomplish nothing.”

“Is that a threat?” Bumblebee leaned forward.  “If not talking, what else? Another riot? Think we listen to savages better?”

“I meant,” Metalhawk politeness was frosty. “that I’ve wasted enough of your time.” He gave a nod, as if settling something within his own mind. “Thank you for this…illuminating discussion.  I’ll find my way out.”  A sharp smile, as if he expected to be challenged on that, before he turned on his heel and left.

His footsteps receded into the distance, both Prowl and Bumblebee audiotracking the direction for a long moment in silence.  Bumblebee broke it by shaking his head. “One day, you know, he’ll realize.”

Prowl nodded. “We’re doing it for their own good.”

Comments

[jalaperilo.livejournal.com]

I don't follow the ongoing (I just can't expose myself to that much torture) but I've seen Metalhawks design and it is lush!

Here's another German word for you - Kummerspeck: The excessive weight gained from emotional-based over-eating. Literal translation is 'grief bacon'

I love the Germans.

[ravynfyre.livejournal.com]

I want to punch them both. and I'm kinda ashamed to be an American right now.

[akufu.livejournal.com]

Pfff that's greatly written, though I reaaaaally could not bring it together with the prompt~
Maybe because I rather know it as something bullies use for the typical victims and Metalhawk really does not seem like a easy victim!
(and that song from die Ärzte XD)
But I don't follow the ongoing so I dunno~

[silaphet.livejournal.com]

oooooh really hating Prowl here, so different from my head fantasies of him ... wondering how he'd side regarding SOPA,PIPA,ACTA ^.^ but it's just a story lol. Metalhawk comes across as deliciously regal