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ajremixI'd also like to suggest reading Days Long Past by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
haearnmouse which takes place in the same story line but far into the future.
Title: Under Clearer Skies
Fandom: Transformers
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2198
Characters: Octane, Smokescreen
In Response to:elvenarchress’s Spiraling Out of Control, chapter 12, prompt 14. Sequel to With All Thy Mercies and A Warm and Tender Devil Soul.
Summary: A Decepticon and an Autobot meet in a bar. One remembers what the other wants to forget.
The light was a dim filter through the bar- dingy at its source and muddy where the shadows gathered thick below chairs and tables. None of the patrons spoke above a mumble and even that was only to the bartender. Each pretended everyone else didn’t exist, gazes passing sightlessly over faction symbols. It was a place where one went to be alone from the world.
Which was why Octane didn’t expect someone to sit at his elbow and say, “So here’s where you went off to.”
The cables at the base of his wings twitched. “Smokescreen,” he gritted back, “can’t say I’m glad to see you right now.”
“Mmm, that’s a pity,” Smokescreen raised a finger to the bartender who mutely grabbed a container of energon. It was plopped down in front of the Autobot but the bartender made no motion to remove his hand until Smokescreen paid up. “It’s been a while since you’ve been in contact with any of our mutual associates.”
“I’m pulling out of the information schtick. I’m sticking to straight fuel supply.”
“Really?” Smokescreen sipped at his energon, made a face and continued sipping anyway. “Your boss okay with that?”
The triplechanger gave a humorless smile. “I’m a better transporter than I am an informer. ‘Sides, you know why I went into that business in the first place.”
His answering smile was soft and sympathetic. “I know. Heard you gave up on him, too.”
The word made Octane’s internals twist up. It sounded like all that time, all that effort, all the pain he endured didn’t mean anything in the end. And maybe they didn’t, but Octane didn’t want to believe it was all a waste. He took a gulp of his energon. The impure compounds gave it a sharp, bitter taste. The parallel wasn’t lost to him. “Wasn’t doing me any good.”
“That took a lot of courage, you know. Being able to recognize that and make yourself step back from it.”
Octane grunted in reply.
“You never told him.”
His hand twitched over his container. “Told him what?”
“What happened.”
His internals went cold. “What happened?”
In response, Smokescreen shook his head. “Lay off, Octane- I only worked down the block from him back then. One day he’s telling me all about you and this grand idea you had and how you only had one more fuel run to do before you had the credits for the two of you to move to Nova Cronum, then all of the sudden he can’t remember who you are? Or why he’d want to leave Stanix in the first place? And you think I wouldn’t figure out what happened?”
Octane’s hands shook. He clamped them tight on the bar top, hoping Smokescreen couldn’t see him trembling, but the Autobot didn’t have to. “What difference would it have made,” he asked bitterly. “If I told him about it, so what? It wouldn’t have changed anything.” Octane slouched down, trying to find refuge from the memory he desperately didn’t want. “Telling him only would’ve upset him anyway.”
At his elbow Smokescreen waited patiently, watched carefully.
“You know how he gets when someone brings up basically anything that has to do with his past, especially about things he’d forgotten. Not like you could blame him- who’d want to be reminded of all the chunks of their life being wiped from their memory without their consent? I don’t know how anyone could stand knowing that- I don’t know how you can stand it.”
Smokescreen said nothing.
The half-empty container of energon swirled, throwing little prisms of light against the bar top. Octane said, weight heavy on his arms. “It wouldn’t have changed anything if I told him. He wouldn’t be able to remember any of it, it’d just be another part of his life stolen from him forever.” He laughed bitterly. “It’d be kinder if I never told him.”
Then all those memories, all the love and hope and time the two had shared together would be a memory only Octane could keep. Same with the pain and fury and hopelessness of having it all taken away. The betrayal of going up to the person he loved and not being remembered in the slightest, of offering to start a new life somewhere else and being asked ‘why’. “He doesn’t need that.”
“He knows.”
Octane’s head jerked around. “What?”
“He knows. I told him.”
Smokescreen let out a yelp of pain, suddenly jerked sideways by Octane yanking on a doorwing. “You told him?”
One of the Autobots in the back was suddenly watching them very closely, on the verge of getting up. “Do you mind?” Smokescreen hissed at the Decepticon. Numbly, Octane’s hand opened and Smokescreen twisted a bit, flexing the doorwing to make sure it wasn’t damaged. He took that time to make optic contact with the other Autobot, silently communicating that he needed no help. “Yes,” he told Octane stiffly, “I told him. Because he knew he was missing something. You’re not a bad actor or liar, Octane, but against pros you’re painfully obvious.”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t even realize all the times you slipped up, do you?” A half grin was on Smokescreen’s lips, turning his mouth into an incredulous curve. “The memory of your first meeting with him is completely different from his. You remember him when he still worked as a host, when Straigthaway was still wiping his memory to keep him naïve and new and sane. He remembers you long after the den was razed to the ground and he struck out on his own. After he became aware and bitter and manipulative. And what do you do? You make little mentions of how he used to smile and laugh and before his upgrades made him so much larger.
“You know when Straightaway had his memories of you wiped off, she had the specialist put up a block that would keep him from developing any real relationship with you. I know you know that because she wanted to make sure you knew about it. And yet, up you come and Sandstorm didn’t even have to try and seduce you because he knew you were- somehow –in love with him before the two of you even met. And you really think he wouldn’t realize he was missing something important?”
Octane’s hands curled into fists that trembled, expression raw. “Then… why? Why didn’t he ever tell me he knew?”
“Because it wouldn’t change anything, would it? He still can’t remember those times and he can’t force himself to feel anything for you.”
“Then… all those times… when he-“
“He asked me after he settled into the Wreckers- after he learned how to care about someone other than himself again.” Smokescreen turned away from the triplechanger, gaze distant and full of angry memories that bore into the bartop. “He told me that, even if he wanted to try fighting that reprogramming… every time he thought of you he felt nothing. Not even distaste. To him, your existence doesn’t matter and the more he tried to fight it the angrier he got. At Straightaway, at the specialist, at himself… And he felt guilty because he couldn’t care about you. He didn’t say anything because he thought it would be kinder if you didn’t know.”
“Then why are you telling me now?”
“Because I want you to know, even though he can’t care about you, even if you can’t have a relationship with him the way you want to, he does know what kind of mech you are. He knows you won’t force yourself on him, that you won’t manipulate things to get your way. When it comes to him, he knows that you’re trustworthy and caring.”
Octane’s expression was pensive. “Do you even know how he tried to thank me?”
“I know,” came the mild answer. “Just because he knows you’re not exactly like the others, the concept of reciprocated love is still new to him. He knew you wanted him willingly, so he went to you willingly. He just didn’t get it also meant you wanted him to want you back.
“Now that he knows how much you do care… it really frustrates him because he can’t feel anything for you, no matter how hard he tries.” Smokescreen reached out and squeezed at Octane’s hand. “It’s really unfair, isn’t it? Our lives were just one person after another, screwing us over. Kind of ironic that the war actually saved us.”
The Decepticon said nothing, just squeezed Smokescreen’s hand before slipping his own away.
“I just gotta wonder- and I don’t mean to be cruel but…” the blue and red mech cycled air through his systems, “do you really love Sandstorm, or were you just trying to make up for what happened?”
Octane spluttered. “Make- what-“
“I’m serious. Is it love or guilt? Don’t get me wrong- I know you loved Sandstorm when you two first met, but he’s nothing like the Sandstorm he is now and neither of them were what he was like when he remembers first meeting you. Three different Sandstorms, Octane. Do you really love them all?”
“The first one, absolutely.” Still did love him. “The second… No. I hated the second one, there was nothing in the second one that was anything like who he was and the third…”
Suddenly Octane’s shoulders slumped and he looked at Smokescreen, coming to a realization that seemed to shake his entire world. “He’s not coming back, is he? The Sandstorm I fell in love with. There’s no way to get him back.”
“No.”
He let out a gasp or a sob that was almost like Octane’s spark breaking if not for the sound of relief deep within. “I spent… spent so long, wished so hard, wanted so… so badly to save him, t-to turn him back to the Sandstorm I remembered…”
“You’re in love with the memory of him.”
“And I can’t ever get him back.” He cradled his head in his hands, a little bit of hysterical laughter bubbling in his vocalizer. “He’s changed too much and I didn’t want to believe that. All that wasted time because I didn’t want to believe he was gone… I had my one chance to save him, to give him a better life and I messed it up because I didn’t think things through, I didn’t think about how much Straightaway wouldn’t give him up and I didn’t want to believe that…”
Smokescreen reached out and took Octane’s hand again. This time he wasn’t going to let go. “It’s hardly your fault she went to such extremes. Maybe you should’ve known and kept it all a secret, but she would’ve found somehow. Even if you couldn’t help him then, he has a new life now and it’s changed him in ways I was afraid to hope for.”
“I know.” And this smile, through the pain and grief, had an edge of relief. “His team really saved him. And Fireflight… Fireflight’s everything to him, isn’t he?”
“He really is.”
Though his grip shook, Octane’s hand still clenched tight at Smokescreen’s fingers. “I’m not what he needs, not anymore. Might never have been.”
“You’re someone he can trust. And as this is Sandstorm, that is not insignificant.”
They sat for some time, neither moving, with their hands wrapped around each other’s. They sat until Octane stopped trembling, until he accepted that this was what his life had become and he felt he could speak without breaking down.
“Maybe one day,” his tone was a little rough along the edges, “maybe then I’ll…”
“Don’t push yourself. Just let what happens happen. If you can’t, he understands. If you can, I’m sure he’ll look forward to it.”
Octane nodded, revving his internals to get the thick feeling out of his vocalizer. “So,” he tried to sound nonchalant and ended up being absolutely nothing but obvious and awkward, “you’ll keep an optic on him?”
“I’ll look after him,” Smokescreen assured with smile. “I’ll try to keep him from messing this thing up entirely but… well…”
“I know.” But Sandstorm had someone looking out for him- had several someones looking out for him and every single one of them could do a much better job than Octane ever could. He downed the last of his energon. “Thanks.”
Smokescreen’s hand squeezed his one last time and the smile he gave Octane assured him that this really was the right thing to do. “You’re a good mech, Octane.”
“For a Decepticon?”
“For anyone. You ever need to talk, give me a call. I’ll see if I can’t free myself up for you.”
“Thanks, Smokescreen. I mean it.” And he truly did.
He left the bar and stood out in the street, looking up at the empty sky. His spark still weighed heavy inside of him, emotions knotted and afraid to be released. But Octane knew his whole life lay out before him. He didn’t know how long it would take- perhaps even an eternity –but he took his first step on that road, no longer chasing after shadows and memories. He took his second step and hoped, somehow, that he would not falter.
haearnmouse which takes place in the same story line but far into the future.Title: Under Clearer Skies
Fandom: Transformers
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2198
Characters: Octane, Smokescreen
In Response to:
elvenarchress’s Spiraling Out of Control, chapter 12, prompt 14. Sequel to With All Thy Mercies and A Warm and Tender Devil Soul.Summary: A Decepticon and an Autobot meet in a bar. One remembers what the other wants to forget.
The light was a dim filter through the bar- dingy at its source and muddy where the shadows gathered thick below chairs and tables. None of the patrons spoke above a mumble and even that was only to the bartender. Each pretended everyone else didn’t exist, gazes passing sightlessly over faction symbols. It was a place where one went to be alone from the world.
Which was why Octane didn’t expect someone to sit at his elbow and say, “So here’s where you went off to.”
The cables at the base of his wings twitched. “Smokescreen,” he gritted back, “can’t say I’m glad to see you right now.”
“Mmm, that’s a pity,” Smokescreen raised a finger to the bartender who mutely grabbed a container of energon. It was plopped down in front of the Autobot but the bartender made no motion to remove his hand until Smokescreen paid up. “It’s been a while since you’ve been in contact with any of our mutual associates.”
“I’m pulling out of the information schtick. I’m sticking to straight fuel supply.”
“Really?” Smokescreen sipped at his energon, made a face and continued sipping anyway. “Your boss okay with that?”
The triplechanger gave a humorless smile. “I’m a better transporter than I am an informer. ‘Sides, you know why I went into that business in the first place.”
His answering smile was soft and sympathetic. “I know. Heard you gave up on him, too.”
The word made Octane’s internals twist up. It sounded like all that time, all that effort, all the pain he endured didn’t mean anything in the end. And maybe they didn’t, but Octane didn’t want to believe it was all a waste. He took a gulp of his energon. The impure compounds gave it a sharp, bitter taste. The parallel wasn’t lost to him. “Wasn’t doing me any good.”
“That took a lot of courage, you know. Being able to recognize that and make yourself step back from it.”
Octane grunted in reply.
“You never told him.”
His hand twitched over his container. “Told him what?”
“What happened.”
His internals went cold. “What happened?”
In response, Smokescreen shook his head. “Lay off, Octane- I only worked down the block from him back then. One day he’s telling me all about you and this grand idea you had and how you only had one more fuel run to do before you had the credits for the two of you to move to Nova Cronum, then all of the sudden he can’t remember who you are? Or why he’d want to leave Stanix in the first place? And you think I wouldn’t figure out what happened?”
Octane’s hands shook. He clamped them tight on the bar top, hoping Smokescreen couldn’t see him trembling, but the Autobot didn’t have to. “What difference would it have made,” he asked bitterly. “If I told him about it, so what? It wouldn’t have changed anything.” Octane slouched down, trying to find refuge from the memory he desperately didn’t want. “Telling him only would’ve upset him anyway.”
At his elbow Smokescreen waited patiently, watched carefully.
“You know how he gets when someone brings up basically anything that has to do with his past, especially about things he’d forgotten. Not like you could blame him- who’d want to be reminded of all the chunks of their life being wiped from their memory without their consent? I don’t know how anyone could stand knowing that- I don’t know how you can stand it.”
Smokescreen said nothing.
The half-empty container of energon swirled, throwing little prisms of light against the bar top. Octane said, weight heavy on his arms. “It wouldn’t have changed anything if I told him. He wouldn’t be able to remember any of it, it’d just be another part of his life stolen from him forever.” He laughed bitterly. “It’d be kinder if I never told him.”
Then all those memories, all the love and hope and time the two had shared together would be a memory only Octane could keep. Same with the pain and fury and hopelessness of having it all taken away. The betrayal of going up to the person he loved and not being remembered in the slightest, of offering to start a new life somewhere else and being asked ‘why’. “He doesn’t need that.”
“He knows.”
Octane’s head jerked around. “What?”
“He knows. I told him.”
Smokescreen let out a yelp of pain, suddenly jerked sideways by Octane yanking on a doorwing. “You told him?”
One of the Autobots in the back was suddenly watching them very closely, on the verge of getting up. “Do you mind?” Smokescreen hissed at the Decepticon. Numbly, Octane’s hand opened and Smokescreen twisted a bit, flexing the doorwing to make sure it wasn’t damaged. He took that time to make optic contact with the other Autobot, silently communicating that he needed no help. “Yes,” he told Octane stiffly, “I told him. Because he knew he was missing something. You’re not a bad actor or liar, Octane, but against pros you’re painfully obvious.”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t even realize all the times you slipped up, do you?” A half grin was on Smokescreen’s lips, turning his mouth into an incredulous curve. “The memory of your first meeting with him is completely different from his. You remember him when he still worked as a host, when Straigthaway was still wiping his memory to keep him naïve and new and sane. He remembers you long after the den was razed to the ground and he struck out on his own. After he became aware and bitter and manipulative. And what do you do? You make little mentions of how he used to smile and laugh and before his upgrades made him so much larger.
“You know when Straightaway had his memories of you wiped off, she had the specialist put up a block that would keep him from developing any real relationship with you. I know you know that because she wanted to make sure you knew about it. And yet, up you come and Sandstorm didn’t even have to try and seduce you because he knew you were- somehow –in love with him before the two of you even met. And you really think he wouldn’t realize he was missing something important?”
Octane’s hands curled into fists that trembled, expression raw. “Then… why? Why didn’t he ever tell me he knew?”
“Because it wouldn’t change anything, would it? He still can’t remember those times and he can’t force himself to feel anything for you.”
“Then… all those times… when he-“
“He asked me after he settled into the Wreckers- after he learned how to care about someone other than himself again.” Smokescreen turned away from the triplechanger, gaze distant and full of angry memories that bore into the bartop. “He told me that, even if he wanted to try fighting that reprogramming… every time he thought of you he felt nothing. Not even distaste. To him, your existence doesn’t matter and the more he tried to fight it the angrier he got. At Straightaway, at the specialist, at himself… And he felt guilty because he couldn’t care about you. He didn’t say anything because he thought it would be kinder if you didn’t know.”
“Then why are you telling me now?”
“Because I want you to know, even though he can’t care about you, even if you can’t have a relationship with him the way you want to, he does know what kind of mech you are. He knows you won’t force yourself on him, that you won’t manipulate things to get your way. When it comes to him, he knows that you’re trustworthy and caring.”
Octane’s expression was pensive. “Do you even know how he tried to thank me?”
“I know,” came the mild answer. “Just because he knows you’re not exactly like the others, the concept of reciprocated love is still new to him. He knew you wanted him willingly, so he went to you willingly. He just didn’t get it also meant you wanted him to want you back.
“Now that he knows how much you do care… it really frustrates him because he can’t feel anything for you, no matter how hard he tries.” Smokescreen reached out and squeezed at Octane’s hand. “It’s really unfair, isn’t it? Our lives were just one person after another, screwing us over. Kind of ironic that the war actually saved us.”
The Decepticon said nothing, just squeezed Smokescreen’s hand before slipping his own away.
“I just gotta wonder- and I don’t mean to be cruel but…” the blue and red mech cycled air through his systems, “do you really love Sandstorm, or were you just trying to make up for what happened?”
Octane spluttered. “Make- what-“
“I’m serious. Is it love or guilt? Don’t get me wrong- I know you loved Sandstorm when you two first met, but he’s nothing like the Sandstorm he is now and neither of them were what he was like when he remembers first meeting you. Three different Sandstorms, Octane. Do you really love them all?”
“The first one, absolutely.” Still did love him. “The second… No. I hated the second one, there was nothing in the second one that was anything like who he was and the third…”
Suddenly Octane’s shoulders slumped and he looked at Smokescreen, coming to a realization that seemed to shake his entire world. “He’s not coming back, is he? The Sandstorm I fell in love with. There’s no way to get him back.”
“No.”
He let out a gasp or a sob that was almost like Octane’s spark breaking if not for the sound of relief deep within. “I spent… spent so long, wished so hard, wanted so… so badly to save him, t-to turn him back to the Sandstorm I remembered…”
“You’re in love with the memory of him.”
“And I can’t ever get him back.” He cradled his head in his hands, a little bit of hysterical laughter bubbling in his vocalizer. “He’s changed too much and I didn’t want to believe that. All that wasted time because I didn’t want to believe he was gone… I had my one chance to save him, to give him a better life and I messed it up because I didn’t think things through, I didn’t think about how much Straightaway wouldn’t give him up and I didn’t want to believe that…”
Smokescreen reached out and took Octane’s hand again. This time he wasn’t going to let go. “It’s hardly your fault she went to such extremes. Maybe you should’ve known and kept it all a secret, but she would’ve found somehow. Even if you couldn’t help him then, he has a new life now and it’s changed him in ways I was afraid to hope for.”
“I know.” And this smile, through the pain and grief, had an edge of relief. “His team really saved him. And Fireflight… Fireflight’s everything to him, isn’t he?”
“He really is.”
Though his grip shook, Octane’s hand still clenched tight at Smokescreen’s fingers. “I’m not what he needs, not anymore. Might never have been.”
“You’re someone he can trust. And as this is Sandstorm, that is not insignificant.”
They sat for some time, neither moving, with their hands wrapped around each other’s. They sat until Octane stopped trembling, until he accepted that this was what his life had become and he felt he could speak without breaking down.
“Maybe one day,” his tone was a little rough along the edges, “maybe then I’ll…”
“Don’t push yourself. Just let what happens happen. If you can’t, he understands. If you can, I’m sure he’ll look forward to it.”
Octane nodded, revving his internals to get the thick feeling out of his vocalizer. “So,” he tried to sound nonchalant and ended up being absolutely nothing but obvious and awkward, “you’ll keep an optic on him?”
“I’ll look after him,” Smokescreen assured with smile. “I’ll try to keep him from messing this thing up entirely but… well…”
“I know.” But Sandstorm had someone looking out for him- had several someones looking out for him and every single one of them could do a much better job than Octane ever could. He downed the last of his energon. “Thanks.”
Smokescreen’s hand squeezed his one last time and the smile he gave Octane assured him that this really was the right thing to do. “You’re a good mech, Octane.”
“For a Decepticon?”
“For anyone. You ever need to talk, give me a call. I’ll see if I can’t free myself up for you.”
“Thanks, Smokescreen. I mean it.” And he truly did.
He left the bar and stood out in the street, looking up at the empty sky. His spark still weighed heavy inside of him, emotions knotted and afraid to be released. But Octane knew his whole life lay out before him. He didn’t know how long it would take- perhaps even an eternity –but he took his first step on that road, no longer chasing after shadows and memories. He took his second step and hoped, somehow, that he would not falter.
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Date: 2009-06-16 07:10 am (UTC)Poor Octane, It must be aweful for him to know the person he loves the most can't feel anything back. But the ending is what brought me near to tears, how he starts really moving forward...
Also, off topic, but I was vaugle thinking of Sandy and Flight earlier and this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eI2Hx_As2y0 came on over the radio... Wierd...