shadow_vector | Ice Cave

PG
Bayverse
Barricade/Skywarp
some schmoop kinda
for

swordage's contribution to

merfilly's need.

“H-how long till pick up?” Skywarp’s voice was a little forcedly light, as Barricade stepped back into the cave, his silhouette a shadow from the whiteness outside. It was cold. Skywarp had never been so cold, ice glazing his armor, the cold biting into his wiring. He had heavy armor, yes, the heaviest that he could rate and still fly. But his kind always went armor light, stripped of insulation and as much weight as possible for fuel efficiency.

It kept them cool in flight, helping them shed heat, and stay in optimal performance ranges, but now all it did was let the heat flee into the icy air.

“Not long,” Barricade said, blandly. The interceptor had a heavier frame, ironically, and smaller surface area: he kept his heat better. But even he was bearded with ice, snow powdering his face and chassis, lining the treads of his tires.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Skywarp said, almost fondly, even as he hunched tighter around his bent legs, long-taloned hands wrapping around the lean struts of his lower legs. Cold on cold: it didn’t seem to help at all.

“We’ll get through this, Skywarp,” Barricade said. He wasn’t good at doing any sort of comforting, like, at all. But he was trying, even though he could feel tension like a hot knot of eels in his tank. It felt like the only heat in the world right now.

“Yeah,” Skywarp said, “We better. This is not how I want to go out.” His grin wavered, and he dropped his head between his foreknees.

“Stop talking like that!” Barricade stomped one foot, ice crackling from his knees to clatter on the frozen floor, his lower set of optics lidding with distress. “You’re not going to go out of here anyway but flying.”

“Never thought of you as an optimist,” Skywarp said, stopping as a shudder ran through his frame.

“Yeah, well, you’re a bad influence,” Barricade said. “Going back out for a bit.”

“Barricade.”

The window-wings flicked, scattering snow, and only that, as Barricade stepped back through the narrow gap in the stone, leaving Skywarp alone. He could hear the distant hiss of the snow, the whipping sound of the arctic wind, almost whistling through the chink in stone, already obliterating the gouges from Skywarp’s wing armor as he’d wriggled his way into the cave.

“Gonna fraggin’ die here,” Skywarp muttered, scooting himself away from the lick of cold air, eddying around the cave’s mouth. Not how he wanted to go he’d said. Not at all. Blaze of glory, spinning in combat, the world full of fire and color and the acrid whiff of warfare, yes. But this? Still and shivering, his systems underclocking from the cold?

Or maybe he wouldn’t die. Maybe he’d just go into a stasis lock, systems idled down and waiting to finally corrode, time stretching horribly long and thin, like a gravity well sucking in heat and consciousness.

That was awful, but more than that, he’d gotten Barricade involved, taking him on the mission. He’d thought it would be fun: fast recon over an Autobot base, Barricade as his backup in high orbit. It hadn’t happened that way: they’d gotten shot down before they entered the troposphere and landed in…this mess.

But there was something worse than dying alone, he thought. That was your lover, your closest companion, wandering off alone, possibly never to return. Where had he gone? What was he thinking? Skywarp had never felt this before: concern for another, outreaching his own, but the thought of Barricade, dropping to his knees in the snow, freezing slowly to death in a landscape of blank whiteness, tore at his spark.

“No,” he said, and he unfolded, feeling the cold slap at his chassis as he unfolded his long legs. He could find Barricade. How hard could it be to find a dark smudge in all that white? He’d find him and they’d at least be together. That was something, right? Maybe not a warrior’s death, but a lover’s. And the more he thought about it, the more he let himself feel, the more that seemed like it wasn’t a bad thing to be.

“The frag you think you’re going?” Barricade, appearing from the white swirl of snow, his arms full with some dark stuff.

“To find you…?” It sounded strangely lame, now, under the red glow of Barricade’s four optics.

“Yeah, you found me. Now go sit your aft back down.” Barricade glowered, until Skywarp stepped back, obediently. He moved to the center of the cave, dropping a leaking power cell and some insulation on the ground. He looked up. “What? Sit.”

“You’re a genius,” Skywarp said.

Barricade shrugged, bending over the powercell, and suddenly the cave echoed with the high whine of one of his wrist tires, rubber screeching against the metal of the powercell. “Should have told me what you were doing.”

A shrug. “Wasn’t sure it was gonna work. And you wouldn’t have fit in the hole in the hull anyway.” He revved the tire further, the black smell of scorching rubber filling the cave.

“Gah!” Barricade said, jumping back, fanning his arm wildly, as the friction from his tire set the power fluid alight. The flame licked through the cave, blue and gold, casting light through the small cave, picking glossy highlights off their iced armor.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Just hot.” Barricade gave a click of amusement. “Not a bad feeling in the circumstances.”

Warmth seemed to burst through the cave, licking against them. Skywarp could already feel the ice starting to crackle and melt on his armor and he scooted forward, stretching toward the heat and glow, pulling Barricade against him, into the cradle of his long legs. Suddenly, along with the ice, the bleakness seemed to shatter and creak, hope bursting through, and he wanted nothing more than to press his throbbing spark against Barricade’s narrow back. “I prefer this, honestly.”