Suppress

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

R
Bayverse, Sky and Ground AU
Barricade, Skywarp, Thundercracker, Starscream, Soundwave, Megatron, Onslaught
refs to noncon, angst

It was not a glitched memory purge, though Barricade dearly wanted to believe it was. It had really, really happened. His body ached with the truth, his cortex burned, a fragile, shivering thing.  It had happened. 

Oh Primus, what to do now? Barricade curled around himself, as though he could feel safe, feel better, if he could just make himself small enough.  Or maybe, maybe, he’d disappear and not have to deal with the aftermath. 

The present was bad enough.

The past—what had just happened—was altogether too much.

He checked the bond—it was still closed, as tight as he could make it, the coding locked down against it.  He could only hope it was enough.

Can’t lie here forever, he thought. Have to move.  Have to get up. Get going. Keep moving.  Can’t stay here, in this place. In this…place. 

But…not yet.  He wasn’t ready. He’d have to move but he just didn’t have the strength.  Didn’t have the will, the only possible thread he clung to was that they would never know.  Skywarp couldn’t know. Ever. 

He gripped at his body, talons scraping along his thigh armor, determined to clutch the secret to himself, keep the pain to himself.  Skywarp could never know. THEY could never know.  He didn’t know how he’d manage if they did. He…had to keep this to himself.  Had to.  Or they’d know he was weak. Regret ever taking him in.  They’d…hate him. 

A strangled, pitiful whine escaped his vocalizer.  He wanted to be strong. But he wasn’t.  And he couldn’t pretend to be.  He wanted to forget. Or if not forget, seek comfort.  He tried to imagine Skywarp with him, curling around the tight ball he was in.  Imagining, summoning from memory and wistfulness, the jet’s large body. Fantasizing that his facial spires were pressed into the hollow above Skywarp’s cockpit, breathing in the warm scent of him, the long black arms of the jet wrapping around him, one thigh protectively thrown over his.  He could almost feel soft gusts of exvents between his window wings.

But no. That was fantasy. It wasn’t real. Could never be real.  Skywarp wouldn’t touch him. If he…knew.

[***]

Barricade reported, a handful of input rods and a datapad ready. And ready. He’d checked them four times. He was as ready as he could be.  Why was he nervous? 

Simple: it was the first time since the time in the hangar that Barricade had reported to Soundwave. And alone.  But that was ridiculous. Nothing would happen. 

“Barricade,” Soundwave said, his mandibles flashing in the dim light.  And that was all—a mere acknowledgement by name. 

“Yes, Commander.”  He shifted nervously, feeling the optics on him as cold as space. “I, uhh, have the data you asked for.”

“I know.”  Something about the tone, strangely smug, sent tendrils of disquiet through Barricade’s body.  Something was wrong here.  His optics darted back over his shoulder.  No one was here.  Which somehow made it worse. 

“I, uhh,” Barricade scrambled with the input rods. “The findings from that sector,” he winced as he fumbled, the input rod he was trying to insert in the datapad popping from his talons, rolling off the table, onto the floor.  He stooped to get it, mortified.  “Let me, uhh, just get this started.”

“I have an easier way.”

Something in his voice froze Barricade, his head revolving slowly to meet Soundwave’s gaze.  Only to see the silver writhing cylinders of tentacles slithering across the table at him.  “No,” he had a chance to breathe before the first one latched onto him.

And he lost control.

[***]

“Something’s wrong.”  Skywarp shifted restlessly on his chair. It was the tense, tedious stretch of time between a mission briefing and the actual mission.  The time he hated. He wanted to get to it, with an eagerness he was still uncomfortable with naming.   The need to damage, to wound and kill and rend, had been building in him since they left the Nemesis, almost as if it awoke in some direct response to distance from Barricade.  He hated wanting it.  And he’d shut himself down as much as he dared, hoping that the grounder wouldn’t feel the boiling violence in him. 

But still, he sensed something wrong, something not right.  Some brief blat of horror or fear or something that was gone, squelched, before he could get a read on it.

“We need to concentrate,” Thundercracker said.  “On now, and not try to fabricate some futile worry.”

“He is allowed to worry,” Starscream said, mildly. “I think it is rather endearing.”

“Distracting,” Thundercracker said.  “You know he’s always had trouble focusing.”

“Never in combat,” Starscream said, his voice suddenly sharp. 

Skywarp gave a low growl.  “Right here, you know.  And something’s wrong.  Barricade’s shut down.”

“We’re shut down,” Thundercracker said. “Preoccupied.” 

“Skywarp,” Starscream said, leaning forward, stretching one hand out to brush the black-armored forearm. “If something was wrong, Barricade would contact you, us, immediately.” 

Skywarp stared at the bronze talons curling over his arm for a klik.  “You’re right,” he said, finally. He wasn’t convinced, but…he had no choice. Thundercracker was probably right: he had trouble focusing and this was just a distraction. And Barricade would contact him if he needed him.  “He would.” 

Starscream nodded, comfortingly. “And the sooner we complete this mission, the sooner we can get back.”

Skywarp moved his head, as if trying to physically shake off his concern. “Let’s get this started already.” I trust him.  I do. And it is a disservice to Barricade to doubt him. 

The light flared red, signaling the approach of their entry vector.  And there was no more time for worry.  And Skywarp was fiercely glad. 

[***]

The door opened with a soft, yielding hiss, that barely penetrated Barricade’s audio, so enwrapped was he in his own misery.  The shaft of light, like a ray of humiliation blazed upon his armor, almost blinding his lowlight optics.  He blinked, his capacitor tripping over current.  He’s back. For more.  I didn’t get away in time. 

He couldn’t talk. He couldn’t even think. Much less move.  He followed the dark silhouette with wary, but exhausted, optics.  It crouched beside him, the shadow moving to swallow him.

“Barricade.”  The voice was deep, quiet.  And somehow familiar.

Onslaught?  Barricade ground his optic shutters together. Of all the mechs to find him—the one who had always told him, almost as if warning him, that power was more real and more dangerous than the little game he played with Skywarp.  Play submission. Feigned surrender.  Nothing like what he’d been forced to endure. 

Onslaught grunted, putting strangely neutral hands over Barricade’s frame, checking for damage. There was none. Nothing worth noting, at any rate.  Nothing beyond a few new dents and scrapes, a few spatters of transfluid that probably wrote out the entire story in a vicious shorthand across his frame. All the damage was inside: trapped inside his body, helpless to do anything but watch and wail soundlessly as it, under Soundwave’s control, did…everything that was betrayal. 

The larger mech bent over and hauled Barricade up.  Barricade tried to protest, his vocalizer giving forth another whine.  Useless.  Helpless, he thought. Can’t even fight off Onslaught.  “I’ll take you someplace…safer,” Onslaught said, the voice rumbling against Barricade’s side. “Clean you up.” 

“Don’t need help,” he managed, miserably, as the larger mech stepped into the corridor.  The light threw the silver spatters into glittering contrast. He squirmed, mortified, his tanks feeling tight and constricted. 

“There are different kinds of ‘need’, Barricade,” Onslaught said.  From anyone else, the words might have seemed sentimental, over-the-top.  Onslaught’s voice was commanding, the calm, confident surety of a gestalt leader. He moved surely down the hallway, toting Barricade’s curled frame as if it weighed nothing.  He paused at the door to his own recharge just long enough to blurt a command override before taking Barricade inside and laying him on the berth. 

Onslaught’s recharge was Spartan, so unlike the cluttered mess of Barricade’s old room, so unlike the happy sprawling disorganization of the Quaterne quarters.  He pulled himself from his ball, trying to look—and probably failing abjectly—less pathetic.  The bright light cast his damage in his face—he couldn’t stop staring. And that was what he could see.  There was more, a fact made obvious when Onslaught returned with a wet cleansing cloth, and began wiping down the armor of his face.  Barricade’s optics went…anywhere other than Onslaught’s face, settling into staring at his chassis, optics quivering at the strangely gentle swipes Onslaught made.  So much like Skywarp cleaning up Starscream. After….

It had been almost the same.  Only with the audience trapped inside the body that was doing it.  Only it hadn’t ended there.  And Thundercracker had nearly died because of it. 

No.  No one must know.  That had almost broken them.  Barricade would not allow that to restart, in his name.  He couldn’t.  “No one must know,” he whispered.  A plea, one hand coming up, palm open, openly begging.  He had been humiliated so much, by Soundwave, by Megatron.  He had no pride left. He would grovel before Onslaught if it would keep this silent.

“It’s not my place to say anything,” Onslaught said, quietly. “Though I will suggest you’re making a mistake.”

“Not a mistake.  You don’t understand.” 

Onslaught pulled back, regarding Barricade from behind his visor.  He gave a shrug.  “Not my place to say,” he repeated.  Granting all that he could grant: respect for Barricade’s decision.  And Barricade, who had just had everything torn from him—safety, stability, and his dream of a blissful life with the Quaterne—clung to that shred of respect as though it was a saving grace.

 

Comments

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

Poor Barricade. And evil Soundwave!

[thepheonixqueen.livejournal.com]

You wrote it! Yeh! I can't wait to see what happens when the rest of the quarterne finds out what soundwave did! dum dum dum!

[sontsunami06.livejournal.com]

Poor Barricade needs hugs ;_; and I need to stop checking for updates before I leave for work XD. Too many script blanks get filled with little jet/car doodles when I do! Can I just say that I love Onslaught's character the way you write him? Never even gave him a second glance before you!

[library-drone01.livejournal.com]

GOd I just want to break down and cry....

[ravynfyre.livejournal.com]

Megatron and Soundwave are going to bite off more than they can chew one of these days. I hope the rest of the quaterne isn't too pissed off at Barricade when they find out. I can understand why Barricade is trying to keep it secret, but... I just have the feeling that it's going to bite him on the aft when all is said and done.

[eerian_sadow]

oh, i think Soundwave may be about to die. i don't see any of them taking this well at all. (because we know they'll find out about this.)

[shanfiction73.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I really enjoyed the interweaving of the story, and the fact that I have to sit here and wait for the next awesome installment. Go 'Warp for knowing something is wrong, and bad Thundercracker for not recognizing that knowledge. And extra thanks for feeding my "Sky-and-Ground Onslaught" addiction.

I think you might have two little typos in there. "Can’t say here, in this place." (should be stay?) and "Something about the tone, the strangely smug, sent" (either "the" needs to go or another word is missing).

But thank you!

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

Thanks for pointing those out!! Fixed now!

(And yeah, Onslaaaaauuuuuuggghhhht.*drool*)

[kurichi-chan.livejournal.com]

I love that these oneshots are developing plot! ^^

Poor Barricade. I can't wait to see when his bondmates find out. I want them to comfort Barricade so bad. I'm also VERY curious to see Thundercracker's reaction. I can see him being totally pissed actually. I do hope you plan to write the sequel to this one!

[wingzbot.livejournal.com]

I'm...speechless ;-;

Poor Barricade!! I know that his silence will possibly seem like a betrayal to 'Warpy, but I really hope he kills Soundwave nonetheless!!! The would be the prime target for his need to destroy!

[ithilgwath.livejournal.com]

oh frag...