Redeem 14: Old Issues, Flare.

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

Bayverse
PG-13
Flareup, Chromia, Ironhide
warnings: none

 

 

14. Old Issues Flare
Diego Garcia  

“Come on,” Chromia said to Flareup. “Don’t you want to be there when Cliffjumper wakes up?”

No, she didn’t. Not because she didn’t care, though, which was what Chromia, of course, was presuming. If it were she, she’d want privacy. Time to adjust. Trusted to make her own decisions about whom she wanted to see or talk to. Whom she was willing to look weak in front of.

“I’ve already seen him,” she said, but knew she was going to lose this battle. Fine. She’d join the mass of those intruding upon Cliffjumper as he pulled out of stasis, seeing his injuries and repairs before he did. Violating his privacy. She was tired of fighting. She already began rolling toward Delta Hangar, the perpetually warm sunlight soothing on her armor.  

“That’s right!” Chromia’s face lit up. “How is that working for you? Do you think you want to transfer? Ratchet has nothing but praise for the work you did on the battlefield. I hear under fire as well.” Chromia was babbling. Well, it was the first time Flareup had agreed to anything she’d said, so maybe she was trying to be nice. And there was precious little of trying to be nice in the world: Flareup wasn’t going to insult her effort. 

“I’m still thinking about it,” she said, honestly. There was some appeal: to help the injured. To help ANY injured. As soon as she was sure she wasn’t making the change out of cowardice, she’d do it. As soon as she was sure she wasn’t running away.

“Whoa! Hey, sorry there!” Chromia blurted at the figure that seemed to burst out between Bravo and Charlie hangars. Always like her, to apologize first. Like they’d done something wrong. 

“Could look where you’re going,” Ironhide muttered. He refused to meet Flareup’s mixed-colored optics. That irritated her more than his implied accusation.

“And so could you! Do you think because you’re larger than we are that you can just go wherever?” Flareup rocked back and forth on her tire in agitation. Ironhide. Again.

“Flareup,” Chromia said, shaking her head. “It’s no big deal.” 

“No, it IS a big deal. Just because he’s big he just has right of way, right? And on top of that, he can get away with having no manners at all?”   Flareup was only half-irritated at Ironhide. Chromia knew better. They had talked about this over and over again. And Chromia was normally the FIRST to point out that the big warriors had the worst attitude and the worst sense of entitlement, and here she was, feeding into it with her automatic and slavish apology?

“Flare,” Chromia said, “This is so petty. Let’s remember Cliffjumper, and what this is really about.”

The words spilled out of Flareup’s vocalizer, “Oh yes, let’s all go stare at Cliffjumper and pretend we’re there to support him, when really all we want to do is satisfy our own curiosity.”

Chromia looked shocked. Ironhide stood, stupidly. Obviously feeling anger, but fighting it. Why bother, she thought, sourly. If you’re going to be a bully, be one all the way. Know you throw your weight around, otherwise you’re just another kind of hypocrites. 

Hypocrites. She was getting tired of no one—including herself—living up to their ideals.

Flareup drooped down. “I’m sorry. Really, look. I’m sorry. You’re right. Cliffjumper’s what this is all about, and of course I care.” She wasn’t really sorry—not for what she’d said. She’s only spoken her mind. But she was sorry that Chromia looked so hurt. That was what she was apologizing for. And her real argument wasn’t with Chromia. 

Chromia smiled, shyly. “I know you do. Now, let’s go and forget about all this silliness.” Chromia linked her fingers with Flareup’s. Part of Flareup bridled at her outburst was being labeled ‘silliness’. Yes, always like that, she thought. If a femme shows anger it’s silliness. Or a programming glitch. Oh, those crazy, temperamental femmes. Suddenly, she couldn’t take it any more. The prospect of being jammed in a hangar with all of them to stare at Cliffjumper—all those other mechs who also thought femmes shouldn’t fight, or femmes were weak or emotionally frail—she just couldn’t bear it. She disentangled her fingers.

“I forgot something,” she lied. “I’ll catch up with you in a bit, okay?” She smiled so broadly her facial plates strained. One good thing about being a ‘crazy temperamental femme’ is your emotions could change on a pinprick like this and no one questioned anything. Right now all she wanted to do was get away. From Chromia. From Ironhide. From these thoughts that were just causing so much trouble every time she dared to voice them.

“Want me to come with you?” Chromia offered. Making this, of course, harder than it needed to be. In the nicest possible way, of course. Was she deliberately misreading or was she going to take another opportunity for a ‘but Flare, we’re worried about you!’ stab at her? Flareup was getting tired of it. False sympathy. One that didn’t want to understand, because she had been nice to the enemy. How did they deserve to win the war if they could not extend kindness to an enemy? Instead, they’d kept her away from Barricade as though he were contagious.

“No, really. You go on. And,” she lowered her optics, “I’m still a little weirded out by large groups right now.” Idiotic claim, but again: crazy femme, recently brutalized by the enemy? She could claim almost anything as long as she were trying to prove she was frail and pathetic.

“Sure,” Chromia said, gently. “I’m going to go ahead with Ironhide, all right?” Asking permission. That, at least, was her acknowledgment of her sister’s wariness of the weapons master.

“Sounds perfect,” Flareup said, brightly, hoping to blind them with brightness. “Be right behind you.” She wheeled off back to the hangar they’d come from with a feeling of relief expanding her chassis. 

 



 

Comments

[scarredbutalive.livejournal.com]

I worry about Flareup. She seems to struggle against herself and her view of who she is, and who the others are. I really really like Redeem and the twists and turns you take us. Wonderful and please continue. As for your new series with the trine, it seems to have the potential of becoming as excellent as all your other works. I made chocolate-cupcakes yesterday, wish I could give you one. You are talented!