Poltergeist

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

G
TFA
Skywarp, Thundercracker
WARNINGS: this is a h/c prompt, only done crack style. Because, srsly. 'Poltergeist'? It ain't that traumatic (oh, just wait till you see the 'fear of clowns'. Whoever made my hc_bingo  card hates me, I swear.  

Thundercracker sighed.  Skywarp was making a puddle, again.  On the beautifully polished floor of his room on the Nemesis.  Thundercracker could no longer see his handsome self reflected with mirror brightness from the floor. How was he to admire his chin this way?  This was unacceptable.

He also had a hard time thinking straight because of what could only truly be called Skywarp’s gibbering.  Noisy stuff.  A genius mind like his required suitable silence.

“What,” he said, his voice booming magnificently through the room, even though it caused Skywarp to cower even lower, the puddle spattering with new…urgh, “is the problem?”

Skywarp gibbered, wringing his talons. “I—it’s…oh…it’s TERRIBLE!  You…please? I can’t recharge there again! It’s too scary!” 

Thundercracker poked the pile of Skywarp—the damp pile of Skywarp—with one elegant toe.  An aristocratic gesture, he thought.  Prod the peon.  Who had, after all, come groveling on his knees for help.  “Can we get to what ‘it’ is?”  The mission simple: Get Skywarp back to recharge.  So Thundercracker could get his own beauty sleep. Not, of course, that being devastatingly handsome was an effort on his part or anything.  But still. The world deserved that he preserved his pulchritude. Which meant…get Skywarp over this ridiculous terror. 

“It’s…scary!” 

Yes, well, that was no surprise.  At least, Skywarp’s judgment of it wasn’t a surprise.  Skywarp found everything scary.  Thundercracker weighed the odds of success for bellowing at Skywarp.  No: chances were he’d POP and make an even bigger puddle and we’d have to start all over again.  Thundercracker showed, he thought, princely restraint as he asked, quietly, “What is, specifically, scary? That brought you here!” he amended, hastily.  Before he got the current list of everything Skywarp found completely terrifying, which was, to be brief, everything. 

“I…,” Skywarp’s optics were large red orbs of terror, as his voice dropped to a whisper. “I think the ship is haunted!”

Oh, really now.  This was…absurd. Ludicrous. Ridiculous.  … Thundercracker needed more adjectives to show his contempt.  “Haunted,” he said, flatly.  It would have to do. 

“A p-p-poltergeist!”  Skywarp nodded, urgently.

A what?  “Poltergeist?” Then, realizing that he sounded like he didn’t know what one was (he didn’t), he blustered, “that’s just ridiculous.”

Skywarp blubbered. “But it fits all the signs!”

Fine.  “All what signs?”

“The signs from when I looked it up!”  Skywarp blinked. “You know, when I was doing research into more stuff I’m afraid of.”

Oh, right. Skywarp was afraid of everything…except researching new things to be afraid of.  Just his luck that the only thing Skywarp wasn’t afraid of was search engines. Thundercracker grunted, not lowering himself to ask for an explanation.

“It’s…uhh, just like they say! There are weird noises at night when I’m trying to recharge. Like…something’s in the room with me, and waiting until I fall asleep.  And then…I wake up and stuff is all moved around and sometimes?’ His optics quivered, “Sometimes some of it is missing!”  He made some sound like ‘geeeeeep!’

Thundercracker sucked in a deep breath, summoning his most superlative patience. It was a princely, magnificent effort.  Heroic, even.  “Skywarp.  That is not a poltergeist.” 

“It is! It is! It fits…everything!” 

“We’re on the slaggin’--” No.  Geniuses did not cuss, at least not so vulgarly and unoriginally. “We’re on the moon, Skywarp. No poltergeists up here.” He had no idea, but he knew that if he said it definitively enough, it might be convincing. 

For a moment, Skywarp’s fear faltered, then rallied. “Maybe it came with the ship!” he whispered.  “Or it’s a space poltergeist!” 

Thundercracker shook his head, grinding his optic shutters together.  “Get up, you driveling idiot.” He snatched Skywarp by one black hand.  “I’ll show you.” Space poltergeist, my shiny afterburners, he muttered to himself.  Skywarp was, as usual, letting his imagination keep his common sense hostage.  He dragged Skywarp across the corridor, to the cramped closet Skywarp called a room.  He skidded to a halt.

“What…is this?”  He pointed.  An elegant, commanding gesture, he thought.  He paused to admire the polish on his talons.  Oops. A chip.  He would have to buff that out.  But first, this. 

“It’s my…uhhh, pillow fort?”  Skywarp’s voice squeaked at the end. 

“Pillow…fort.”

“I…uhhh…I feel safe there.”   He shrank back. “You know…when the poltergeist comes?” He dropped his voice. “It’s magical.” 

Right. Thundercracker shook his head, ominously.  “So, you…cower.”

“Strategic relocation!” Skywarp said.  At Thundercracker’s hard look, he quailed back. “That’s what Sunstorm told me to call it!”

“Fine.  Whatever you want to call it.” He pushed Skywarp towards it. “Get in there like you’re recharging. In your…magic…fort.”  Primus.  Well, it was inevitable: Thundercracker had the brains, which meant there wasn’t that much left to be shared around to the other clones. He waited—he had no choice—while Skywarp burrowed into the mountain of cushions, the yellow Kremzeek blankie draped over him.  “Now. Is this what you hear?”  He began tiptoeing across the room.  Stealthiness, he usually scorned, but he was, after all, consummately skilled, and that included the skill of acting.  His toe plates made small, surreptitious thunks on the floor.

“Y—yes,” A muffled voice from behind the wall of pillows.  “That’s scary!”  Skywarp began muttering things about being possessed by ghosts of dead mechs.  Riiiiiiight. Like that would ever happen.

“And…what kind of things go missing?”

Red optics appeared under a lump of blanket. “Oh, uhh, little stuff like my lucky not-scary rock or some, uhhh, energon treats I’d stored up in case it got too, like…scary to leave my room.”

Right. Exactly as Thundercracker suspected. Well, no surprise there: Thundercracker’s superlative intellect was never in doubt. “It’s not a poltergeist, Skywarp. It’s Dirge.”

“Dirge?”  The optics flickered. “Dirge? He’s…stealing my stuff?” Thundercracker nodded, waiting for rage and injustice to do the rest.

POP.  Skywarp disappeared from his blanket nest, only to pop back in clinging to Thundercracker.  Getting his smudgy, damp handprints, Thundercracker seethed, all over his magnificent blue chassis.  “Dirge is a thief!” Skywarp squeaked. “Thieves are scarier than poltergeists!” 

Comments

[arirashkae.livejournal.com]

I had to skip to the comment link before reading. I saw "Poltergeist/TFA/Skywarp" and snorted my coffee. I'm giggling madly and I haven't even read the story yet, just from the expectation of that setup and your usual snark!

[arirashkae.livejournal.com]

Whee! Almost feel bad for TC, but he needs to be taken down more than a few pegs. Poor 'Warp. :mama bear hugs: I'll keep you safe.