Redeem 17 Failed Confession

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

PG 13
Bayverse
 Flareup,, Ironhide, Sideswipe
no warnings

 

17. Failed Confession

Diego Garcia

 

 

Starscream had barely gone airborne when Flareup hit her comm. It stuttered for a klik, jammed, before it fell crystal clear and quiet.  Quickly, pressing on either end of the damaged power core cable, she put an all-channels out for help, trying to concentrate only on this moment and not the past few kliks or the next few cycles. Just here, just now, just stopping Prowl from being seriously injured.  She’d have plenty of time to regret the decision of a moment. Now was not the time.

 

Feet pounded up to her from Delta, a crowd separating her gently from Prowl’s inert form, murmuring comforting phrases at her like, “It’ll be okay,” and “Don’t worry, Ratchet’s here.”

 

She had bigger worries.  Though she hated how that sounded.

 

After they dragged Prowl away, the questions began. All she could manage to do at first was shake her head and choke out “Starscream.”  It was enough, of course, to send them down the entirely-wrong path.  Oh they figured out the jet had been there—the damage to the hangar door spoke enough testimony to that. But the rest of it they got wrong: why he was there; who attacked Prowl; and why she found herself, suddenly, unable to speak. 

 

Their pity was palpable.  The poor victim, victimized to paralysis by the sight of her tormenter.  Oh if only it were true. If only it had happened that way. But it hadn’t, and their pity struck her as something that might have been funny if it wasn’t so horrible.

 

Sideswipe threw a protective arm around her shoulders, pulling her audio to his mouth. “Sorry, Flare. So sorry.  We should know better than to let you be alone.”

The words stung a double chill in her fuel tank—first for what he didn’t know he said—that she wasn’t trustworthy to be left alone; and second for the notion she needed to be protected.  Would they never stop with this femme-weakness stuff?

 

Then again, here she was, feeding right into it, and a part of her desperately wanting to keep feeding into it, knowing that as soon as she told the truth, all the sympathy, all the understanding or caring she’d ever felt from them would be gone. Over. She had…collaborated with the enemy. She had betrayed them.

Had she? Had she really?  She had given up a piece of information, yes.  But she gave up the humans, not the Autobots. And the humans hadn’t done much of anything to deserve her protection or loyalty. 

 

It still felt like a betrayal of some sort, no matter how cleverly she tried to dance around it. And she had a choice—to speak or to stay silent.  All it would take was for her to say nothing. Maybe cling a little more obviously to Sideswipe’s armor, maybe go and demand her red optic be replaced or mutter a few comments about bad memory purges to Ratchet and…they’d construct a story of a vicious, though pointless, attack. That a Decepticon would somehow infiltrate a base, attack one mech non-lethally, and leave.  They would believe it, because it fit their prejudices. Victim, victimizer. Terrorizing and irrational enemy. Mindless, pointless brutality.  Femmes too weak to fight back.  It was what they wanted to hear.  All she had to do was sit quiet and let them tell themselves that story. 

But.

 

It wasn’t right. On so many levels—that she’d be living under a lie; that for once a Decepticon would not deserve the horrible tales spread about him.  Did that matter? She found that it did.  How dare we dream of peace while clutching so tightly to prejudice?  How dare she think of understanding and comfort when she would be buying it with her honor?

 

She pushed away from Sideswipe. “I did it.” Her voice shook, at first barely louder than the hum of her engines. “Sideswipe, I did it.  I attacked Prowl.” 

 

“What?” He blinked, entirely uncomprehending. “Flareup, no way.”

 

She forced her voice to be stronger. “Yes.  I told Starscream where Barricade was, as much as I knew, but before I did that, I knocked Prowl out.”  She heard a growing murmur around her as her story spread, like ripples.  She waited for them to recoil. To realize what she had done. To reject her. She braced herself.

 

“Flareup,” Ironhide’s voice.  The last mech she wanted to see, but the one, she thought, who would at least see the truth. 

“I did,” she said, jutting her chin defiantly. The tremors that had shaken her body, her hands, fled.  This felt awful, but pure.  This was the right thing. Lying, or even lying by omission—she could not hold her head up with that on her conscience. Truth would guide her, a shining beacon. It was the Autobot way.

 

“Primus,” Ironhide breathed, pushing Sideswipe aside to take her by the shoulders, “I knew they did something to you. I knew it. It explains everything.” His hands were gentle on her shoulder armor, his eyes soft with something like empathy.

 

She blinked, confused. “Ironhide, I—“

 

He raised his voice so the others could hear. “Arcee was the first to suggest it.  That they planted some sort of shell in her while she was down. This was probably just a test of it.” 

“What?” Flareup tried to twist her shoulders out of Ironhide’s grasp. This was ridiculous.  Arcee? Arcee had said that?  Her own sister?  She looked around, her eyes wide with panic, growing wider as she saw the mixed looks of pity and comprehension dawn across their faces. 

“No!” she shouted. “This isn’t a shell program! I did it. I knew what I was doing! You have to believe me!”  She fell to her knee-axle, finally slipping out of Ironhide’s grasp.  “I did it.  Why won’t you believe me?” Her voice was desperate.

She caught one murmur from the crowd. “How do we know,” the mech whispered, “that this isn’t part of the shell, too?” 

 

She closed her optics, blue and red, against despair. 



Comments

[wicked3659.livejournal.com]

Awwww I really feel for Flareup here. It has to be so frustrating for nobody to believe you. The emotions she's going through are palpable. Great chapter and great subtle emphasis on how the Autobots are fraying at the seams

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

Thanks! Flareup is becoming a really interesting character to me, even though I don't think I could live up to her moral code, myself!!

[mpinsky.livejournal.com]

I'm agreeing with Wicked. I really feel for Flareup in this chapter. There's so much inner turmoil that I want to cry, and that you can garner such a reaction out of me with your writing alone makes you an awesome author.

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

Thanks! I really have to beat up these Autobots to get them to give me something, though....

[scarredbutalive.livejournal.com]

brrrr... Flare´. If I was her I would ´pack up my belongings, get away from the bots and then sit somewhere and really really think about if I want to go back to them or switch...

Love the bots, but, hypocrites! At least the cons stand up to who they are and their beliefs...

After a horrible week at work (stupid, stupid kids! 3-6 years old and they fight like grown-upsO_o) this was some very nice reading to come home to. Thank you

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

Yes, but a lot of times our society tries to brush off repentance. We're uncomfortable with acknowledging anyone else's failings because then we might have to acknowledge our own!

Sorry for horrible kids! :C