![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ajremixTitle: No Survivors 9
Fandom: Transformers IDW
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2602
Characters: Wreckers
Summary: Character death. Death is not the greatest pain in life. The greatest pain belongs to those left alive. Note: While this draws elements from my (sprawling) drabble series What’s Wrong with a Little Destruction?, it’s not necessary to read it to understand the fic, only to get the full effect. Special thanks to Vaeru, Cafei and Meallanmouse for being my betas
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
The six of them stood outside the large doors. They knew what lay beyond, waiting for them, and as reticent as they were to enter, they also knew it had to be done one day. They didn’t have to exchange glances or nods, could feel it in the subtle shift of energy and vibrations when everyone finally prepared themselves to continue on.
For the first time since Springer’s death, the Wreckers stepped into the memorial hall.
Roadbuster was already there, standing at their former leader’s marker with his hand placed on the smooth surface and head bowed. The other Wreckers moved silently, spreading out in their ranks, and waited to be acknowledged.
His hand dropped, and he looked up, studying the holoimage before him, and beneath his battlemask, Roadbuster gave it a sad, longing smile. He turned to his team. “Wreckers,” he said ironically, “we really are a piece of work. We were prepared for anything- any fight, any situation, prepared to give up our very lives. Prepared for everything except losing Springer.” Roadbuster rarely paced, would stand perfectly still and large as he spoke, but he paced now, trying to burn that frightened, lost energy that would build up as he said the words that needed to be said. “I know what you thought, the same thing that I did. We all knew Springer could get hurt, could be on the verge of death but we never wanted to believe he could actually die. We weren’t prepared and we fell apart. We all should’ve known better, I should’ve been capable of handling this responsibility because we knew it could’ve happened at any time.” Some of the Wreckers shifted, obviously wanting to say something- that it wasn’t Roadbuster’s fault, that it was theirs as much as his –but they stayed quiet and let him continue speaking.
“Death is something that happens to every living being in this universe, and we Wreckers know it better than most. We see it every day, we cause it, we’ve lost friends and comrades and loved ones. Death is no stranger to us, but we didn’t want to see this coming because we needed something stable in our lives. We all looked to Springer to be that stability, the support that we couldn’t do without. It was unfair of us to put that responsibility on him, but he took it in stride regardless. Because he wouldn’t ever let us down, not so long as he had an ounce of spark left.” He stopped and looked back at the holoimage, hands clenched tight together behind his back. “He needed us as much as we needed him. We gave him a purpose, we gave him a reason to keep fighting, to want to do his duty. Before the Wreckers, Springer drifted. When he lost Impactor, he had no reason to stay in the Security Force where honest, moral ‘bots were tossed aside once they stopped being useful, and he could never find a reason to take joy in what he did. And then we came along.” Roadbuster turned to Whirl, the only other Wrecker that had been there since the beginning, who Roadbuster had recommended to Springer. “We gave him a reason to truly live again.”
Whirl’s optic dimmed, head tilted back slightly. “He said, when I told him I didn’t want to be responsible for all the ‘bots in my command because I just couldn’t bring myself to care about them, he told me if I couldn’t care for others, I should let someone care for me. He said the reason why I couldn’t take orders was because the ones that gave them didn’t give a damn about what happened to me. And he was right. Never before was I ever so willing to sacrifice myself for anything before the Wreckers. When you see just how much he does for us, it makes you want to give everything back in return.”
Roadbuster nodded. “It’s a cycle. He cared for us, we cared for him and so on. He deserves to be respected and honored for what he’s done for us. Not for us to go into hiding and wallow in our own depression. He gathered us together because we’re strong and steadfast and relentless. Wreckers push themselves back to their feet, no matter how much abuse we’ve taken. That’s what we do and that’s forever what we’ll do. That will honor Springer and the Wreckers he helped found. Topspin.”
The jumpstarter stepped forward from where he stood at one end of the line. He went to each Wrecker, holding out a small node. Each mech opened a panel in their chestplates and Topspin carefully inserted the nodes into an open port. After he placed one in Roadbuster, the combat vehicle did the same thing for him. With a deep, shuddering intake of air, the Wreckers activated their nodes and let the final thoughts of Springer wash over them.
The nodes didn’t actually record words or thoughts, technically didn’t even record emotions. It was literally a flood of information, every piece of data that Springer deemed important enough to keep was recorded on to each separate node, saved up to be given to their respective Wrecker. With these nodes they knew what Springer thought of them, how he had felt. Through the node Topspin knew that Springer knew he didn’t like performing the final rites but couldn’t ask him to stop because then how could he ask Topspin to perform it on him? Springer wanted Topspin to do it more than anyone else, more than he’d want Roadbuster or Hot Rod or Arcee if they knew how. He knew the others felt just as strongly about it as Springer did, so how could he be hypocritical enough, cruel enough to deny them what Springer wanted for himself? He wanted Topspin’s forgiveness, said Roadbuster was more adaptive and understanding- if he told Roadbuster, he’d probably have the strength to let Topspin no longer do what he hated.
(Topspin sobbed, shaking and fell to his knees- he clutched at someone’s shoulders and cried and laughed, saying over and over, realizing how close he was to betraying that final act of trust, ‘I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, I’ll never fail you again, I’m sorry.’)
Twin Twist realized how shocked and proud Springer was of the driller, how he could still be so compassionate and willing to fight for those that were ready to lock him away for some foolish prejudice. That just because he was a miner, just because so many miners had joined with Megatron, the Autobots had Twin Twist arrested for no reason. Springer didn’t understand how Twin Twist could’ve just let that slide off his back like he had. He had such strength, such faith in himself and his friends that he met every act of scorn and distrust with a wicked smile and his odd mess of aggressive dignity. Springer admired that, that everyone could hate what he was as much as they wanted, but he’d still be there to do his job and save their chassis without a complaint.
(Twin Twist shook his head, a bitter, quavering smile on his lips. ‘It was because of you I could be that strong. If you hadn’t stood up for me, if I didn’t have you on my side, I would’ve just rotted away in that cell, hating everything I could think of.’)
It told Sandstorm that Springer didn’t know what kind of standard he set for himself, but he was a much better, much stronger mech than he gave himself credit for. He was far more tolerant and patient and clever than Springer could ever hope to be; he took so much in stride, thrived under unusual circumstances. He told Sandstorm that it was okay to be afraid sometimes. It was okay to put himself out on a limb and be so processor-numbingly scared about it so long as he remembered that the other Wreckers would always be there for him. He’d survived things Springer didn’t think he’d be able to ever cope with, but whatever it was that made him wasn’t nearly as important as who it was it turned him into. They already accepted Sandstorm and would give their lives to protect him; anything that happened to him before wouldn’t change their opinion on who he was now.
(Sandstorm knelt at Topspin’s side, needing to hold someone as much as Topspin did, and he kept quiet as he shuddered and wished he had realized all of this sooner, before he had hurt those dear to him, before he lost the one that saved him.)
Broadside, his said, was such an undervalued member, even among their own crew. So quiet, so constantly there and yet somehow, despite his incredible size, so often overlooked. Springer had never met anyone so selfless, so giving and kind. Broadside had always been this resolute pillar, stoic and weathering anything tossed at him. Whenever he felt things overwhelming him, Springer knew he could turn to Broadside to be his port, shelter him when chaos was slamming him around. Roadbuster would need him to be that rock more than ever now. But even if they all needed Broadside to be so giving and protective of them, he should never, ever give up the things he truly wanted. The others wouldn’t ever want him to sacrifice what would make him happy for them.
(Broadside’s large hands, like metallic boulders, clenched and unclenched. ‘I’m happiest when my family is together and whole. I’m happy when my family is happy. I’m there for everyone because I can’t imagine being without all of you anymore.’)
Whirl had to have been one of the strangest mechs Springer had ever had the opportunity to get to know, and he had never been disappointed (or unsurprised) by the things he did. Whirl was always a bundle of opposites- he could be mean-spirited and biting, be careless about so many things and lax on so much more, fought like he had no plans, as if nothing else mattered but what was right in front of him. But to his fellow Wreckers, he would worry when they got hurt and would be the first to notice when one of them wasn’t at their best. He had so many talents at his disposal and kept each one finely honed and had great patience and curiosity to learn. He kept a strict adherence to his own unique brand of fighting, could be counted on to adapt plans on the fly just as surely as he’d keep to task. No matter what else Springer might have thought at first, he was glad Roadbuster talked him into taking on Whirl. There was no one else that could’ve kept the Wreckers so strong in the air back when it was just the two helos. He hoped Whirl understood what it was Springer felt- wanting to do everything in his power to take care of others, doing whatever it took, going out of his way to make sure that they were safe and okay and alive.
(Whirl nodded desperately, arms wrapped tight around himself. ‘I do, I really do get it- this is my home, this is where I belong. The Wreckers were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I can never, ever give this up.’)
Young, energetic Scoop, it came so fondly and warmly. He had no idea the sort of hopes Springer had for him. The way he’d jump into any situation with optimism and his own twisted kind of innocence made Springer- and the other Wreckers –both love having him be a part of their team and wanting to protect him from their own line of work. They all knew better, of course. Scoop had his own share of pain, had his own terrors that haunted him, had his own fears and worries but he never let them get him down. He was always friendly and open, willing to see the best in everything even as he prepared for the worst. Springer wanted him so badly to survive the war. He wanted Scoop to be able to do the things he loved, explore galaxies, see all the strange and wonderful things out there. See the kinds of buildings and monuments other species made, to be able to build them himself. He wanted Scoop to cling to that enthusiasm, the ideal that things would eventually get better. So many- especially Wreckers –would get worn down and disillusioned by the war, but Springer wanted to protect Scoop’s unique outlook, keep him safe from the worst of the danger even as he knew Scoop was fully capable of taking care of himself.
(Scoop shuddered, trying to keep from crying out loud as Twin Twist pulled him in close, and he muttered incomprehensible words, promising he would never lose what made him different, he’d never give up on life, never give up believing in something better.)
Roadbuster. There were really no words that could describe all that was in his node. It just held all the love and respect Springer had for him, knowing that Roadbuster was what kept him going and sane since they had first met in the academy. There was no way to actually describe what their friendship and brotherhood had meant to Springer, how he appreciated the larger mech, how he wished he could’ve thanked him more, told him how much he believed in Roadbuster’s abilities. And he apologized. He actually apologized for having died, knowing how much it would’ve torn Roadbuster up. He said to stop shortchanging himself, to stop thinking he couldn’t hold himself up to some invisible standard Springer had set because there wasn’t one there. And there was no one else in the entire universe Springer trusted to carry on the Wreckers more than Roadbuster. He just needed to stop worrying and trust he would know what to do because Springer had nothing but faith in him.
(Roadbuster went to Topspin and Sandstorm and pulled them to their feet and into his arms, and Scoop and Twin Twist came over, then Whirl, and Broadside wrapped them all up in his huge arms, and they just stayed together, needing to know they were all there and all alive and would never, ever leave their brothers for as long as they lived.)
The Wreckers were his brothers- his family, he told them all. They saved his life just by being there, just by being who they were. There was nothing Springer wouldn’t have done for them, no amount of emotions to express what they meant to him. They were his everything, without them he’d have no purpose, no reason to live. He was happy and honored to have been a part of this, a part of them, and he thanked them all for being with him until the end. He never wanted to give them up and wanted only the best for them all.
‘I will always be here with you,’ the nodes said as the Wreckers held each other like lifelines, connected by the same pain and love, ‘I’ll always be here when the dark comes crawling around and you can’t find the strength to pick yourselves up. I will always be here, and I will always believe in who you are. You are my friends, my family, you are my life, and I will always protect you and support you. Never forget this- the brothers that stand with you, that will give you their lives. We will always be here together, forever and always.
‘Til all are one.’
Fandom: Transformers IDW
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2602
Characters: Wreckers
Summary: Character death. Death is not the greatest pain in life. The greatest pain belongs to those left alive. Note: While this draws elements from my (sprawling) drabble series What’s Wrong with a Little Destruction?, it’s not necessary to read it to understand the fic, only to get the full effect. Special thanks to Vaeru, Cafei and Meallanmouse for being my betas
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
The six of them stood outside the large doors. They knew what lay beyond, waiting for them, and as reticent as they were to enter, they also knew it had to be done one day. They didn’t have to exchange glances or nods, could feel it in the subtle shift of energy and vibrations when everyone finally prepared themselves to continue on.
For the first time since Springer’s death, the Wreckers stepped into the memorial hall.
Roadbuster was already there, standing at their former leader’s marker with his hand placed on the smooth surface and head bowed. The other Wreckers moved silently, spreading out in their ranks, and waited to be acknowledged.
His hand dropped, and he looked up, studying the holoimage before him, and beneath his battlemask, Roadbuster gave it a sad, longing smile. He turned to his team. “Wreckers,” he said ironically, “we really are a piece of work. We were prepared for anything- any fight, any situation, prepared to give up our very lives. Prepared for everything except losing Springer.” Roadbuster rarely paced, would stand perfectly still and large as he spoke, but he paced now, trying to burn that frightened, lost energy that would build up as he said the words that needed to be said. “I know what you thought, the same thing that I did. We all knew Springer could get hurt, could be on the verge of death but we never wanted to believe he could actually die. We weren’t prepared and we fell apart. We all should’ve known better, I should’ve been capable of handling this responsibility because we knew it could’ve happened at any time.” Some of the Wreckers shifted, obviously wanting to say something- that it wasn’t Roadbuster’s fault, that it was theirs as much as his –but they stayed quiet and let him continue speaking.
“Death is something that happens to every living being in this universe, and we Wreckers know it better than most. We see it every day, we cause it, we’ve lost friends and comrades and loved ones. Death is no stranger to us, but we didn’t want to see this coming because we needed something stable in our lives. We all looked to Springer to be that stability, the support that we couldn’t do without. It was unfair of us to put that responsibility on him, but he took it in stride regardless. Because he wouldn’t ever let us down, not so long as he had an ounce of spark left.” He stopped and looked back at the holoimage, hands clenched tight together behind his back. “He needed us as much as we needed him. We gave him a purpose, we gave him a reason to keep fighting, to want to do his duty. Before the Wreckers, Springer drifted. When he lost Impactor, he had no reason to stay in the Security Force where honest, moral ‘bots were tossed aside once they stopped being useful, and he could never find a reason to take joy in what he did. And then we came along.” Roadbuster turned to Whirl, the only other Wrecker that had been there since the beginning, who Roadbuster had recommended to Springer. “We gave him a reason to truly live again.”
Whirl’s optic dimmed, head tilted back slightly. “He said, when I told him I didn’t want to be responsible for all the ‘bots in my command because I just couldn’t bring myself to care about them, he told me if I couldn’t care for others, I should let someone care for me. He said the reason why I couldn’t take orders was because the ones that gave them didn’t give a damn about what happened to me. And he was right. Never before was I ever so willing to sacrifice myself for anything before the Wreckers. When you see just how much he does for us, it makes you want to give everything back in return.”
Roadbuster nodded. “It’s a cycle. He cared for us, we cared for him and so on. He deserves to be respected and honored for what he’s done for us. Not for us to go into hiding and wallow in our own depression. He gathered us together because we’re strong and steadfast and relentless. Wreckers push themselves back to their feet, no matter how much abuse we’ve taken. That’s what we do and that’s forever what we’ll do. That will honor Springer and the Wreckers he helped found. Topspin.”
The jumpstarter stepped forward from where he stood at one end of the line. He went to each Wrecker, holding out a small node. Each mech opened a panel in their chestplates and Topspin carefully inserted the nodes into an open port. After he placed one in Roadbuster, the combat vehicle did the same thing for him. With a deep, shuddering intake of air, the Wreckers activated their nodes and let the final thoughts of Springer wash over them.
The nodes didn’t actually record words or thoughts, technically didn’t even record emotions. It was literally a flood of information, every piece of data that Springer deemed important enough to keep was recorded on to each separate node, saved up to be given to their respective Wrecker. With these nodes they knew what Springer thought of them, how he had felt. Through the node Topspin knew that Springer knew he didn’t like performing the final rites but couldn’t ask him to stop because then how could he ask Topspin to perform it on him? Springer wanted Topspin to do it more than anyone else, more than he’d want Roadbuster or Hot Rod or Arcee if they knew how. He knew the others felt just as strongly about it as Springer did, so how could he be hypocritical enough, cruel enough to deny them what Springer wanted for himself? He wanted Topspin’s forgiveness, said Roadbuster was more adaptive and understanding- if he told Roadbuster, he’d probably have the strength to let Topspin no longer do what he hated.
(Topspin sobbed, shaking and fell to his knees- he clutched at someone’s shoulders and cried and laughed, saying over and over, realizing how close he was to betraying that final act of trust, ‘I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, I’ll never fail you again, I’m sorry.’)
Twin Twist realized how shocked and proud Springer was of the driller, how he could still be so compassionate and willing to fight for those that were ready to lock him away for some foolish prejudice. That just because he was a miner, just because so many miners had joined with Megatron, the Autobots had Twin Twist arrested for no reason. Springer didn’t understand how Twin Twist could’ve just let that slide off his back like he had. He had such strength, such faith in himself and his friends that he met every act of scorn and distrust with a wicked smile and his odd mess of aggressive dignity. Springer admired that, that everyone could hate what he was as much as they wanted, but he’d still be there to do his job and save their chassis without a complaint.
(Twin Twist shook his head, a bitter, quavering smile on his lips. ‘It was because of you I could be that strong. If you hadn’t stood up for me, if I didn’t have you on my side, I would’ve just rotted away in that cell, hating everything I could think of.’)
It told Sandstorm that Springer didn’t know what kind of standard he set for himself, but he was a much better, much stronger mech than he gave himself credit for. He was far more tolerant and patient and clever than Springer could ever hope to be; he took so much in stride, thrived under unusual circumstances. He told Sandstorm that it was okay to be afraid sometimes. It was okay to put himself out on a limb and be so processor-numbingly scared about it so long as he remembered that the other Wreckers would always be there for him. He’d survived things Springer didn’t think he’d be able to ever cope with, but whatever it was that made him wasn’t nearly as important as who it was it turned him into. They already accepted Sandstorm and would give their lives to protect him; anything that happened to him before wouldn’t change their opinion on who he was now.
(Sandstorm knelt at Topspin’s side, needing to hold someone as much as Topspin did, and he kept quiet as he shuddered and wished he had realized all of this sooner, before he had hurt those dear to him, before he lost the one that saved him.)
Broadside, his said, was such an undervalued member, even among their own crew. So quiet, so constantly there and yet somehow, despite his incredible size, so often overlooked. Springer had never met anyone so selfless, so giving and kind. Broadside had always been this resolute pillar, stoic and weathering anything tossed at him. Whenever he felt things overwhelming him, Springer knew he could turn to Broadside to be his port, shelter him when chaos was slamming him around. Roadbuster would need him to be that rock more than ever now. But even if they all needed Broadside to be so giving and protective of them, he should never, ever give up the things he truly wanted. The others wouldn’t ever want him to sacrifice what would make him happy for them.
(Broadside’s large hands, like metallic boulders, clenched and unclenched. ‘I’m happiest when my family is together and whole. I’m happy when my family is happy. I’m there for everyone because I can’t imagine being without all of you anymore.’)
Whirl had to have been one of the strangest mechs Springer had ever had the opportunity to get to know, and he had never been disappointed (or unsurprised) by the things he did. Whirl was always a bundle of opposites- he could be mean-spirited and biting, be careless about so many things and lax on so much more, fought like he had no plans, as if nothing else mattered but what was right in front of him. But to his fellow Wreckers, he would worry when they got hurt and would be the first to notice when one of them wasn’t at their best. He had so many talents at his disposal and kept each one finely honed and had great patience and curiosity to learn. He kept a strict adherence to his own unique brand of fighting, could be counted on to adapt plans on the fly just as surely as he’d keep to task. No matter what else Springer might have thought at first, he was glad Roadbuster talked him into taking on Whirl. There was no one else that could’ve kept the Wreckers so strong in the air back when it was just the two helos. He hoped Whirl understood what it was Springer felt- wanting to do everything in his power to take care of others, doing whatever it took, going out of his way to make sure that they were safe and okay and alive.
(Whirl nodded desperately, arms wrapped tight around himself. ‘I do, I really do get it- this is my home, this is where I belong. The Wreckers were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I can never, ever give this up.’)
Young, energetic Scoop, it came so fondly and warmly. He had no idea the sort of hopes Springer had for him. The way he’d jump into any situation with optimism and his own twisted kind of innocence made Springer- and the other Wreckers –both love having him be a part of their team and wanting to protect him from their own line of work. They all knew better, of course. Scoop had his own share of pain, had his own terrors that haunted him, had his own fears and worries but he never let them get him down. He was always friendly and open, willing to see the best in everything even as he prepared for the worst. Springer wanted him so badly to survive the war. He wanted Scoop to be able to do the things he loved, explore galaxies, see all the strange and wonderful things out there. See the kinds of buildings and monuments other species made, to be able to build them himself. He wanted Scoop to cling to that enthusiasm, the ideal that things would eventually get better. So many- especially Wreckers –would get worn down and disillusioned by the war, but Springer wanted to protect Scoop’s unique outlook, keep him safe from the worst of the danger even as he knew Scoop was fully capable of taking care of himself.
(Scoop shuddered, trying to keep from crying out loud as Twin Twist pulled him in close, and he muttered incomprehensible words, promising he would never lose what made him different, he’d never give up on life, never give up believing in something better.)
Roadbuster. There were really no words that could describe all that was in his node. It just held all the love and respect Springer had for him, knowing that Roadbuster was what kept him going and sane since they had first met in the academy. There was no way to actually describe what their friendship and brotherhood had meant to Springer, how he appreciated the larger mech, how he wished he could’ve thanked him more, told him how much he believed in Roadbuster’s abilities. And he apologized. He actually apologized for having died, knowing how much it would’ve torn Roadbuster up. He said to stop shortchanging himself, to stop thinking he couldn’t hold himself up to some invisible standard Springer had set because there wasn’t one there. And there was no one else in the entire universe Springer trusted to carry on the Wreckers more than Roadbuster. He just needed to stop worrying and trust he would know what to do because Springer had nothing but faith in him.
(Roadbuster went to Topspin and Sandstorm and pulled them to their feet and into his arms, and Scoop and Twin Twist came over, then Whirl, and Broadside wrapped them all up in his huge arms, and they just stayed together, needing to know they were all there and all alive and would never, ever leave their brothers for as long as they lived.)
The Wreckers were his brothers- his family, he told them all. They saved his life just by being there, just by being who they were. There was nothing Springer wouldn’t have done for them, no amount of emotions to express what they meant to him. They were his everything, without them he’d have no purpose, no reason to live. He was happy and honored to have been a part of this, a part of them, and he thanked them all for being with him until the end. He never wanted to give them up and wanted only the best for them all.
‘I will always be here with you,’ the nodes said as the Wreckers held each other like lifelines, connected by the same pain and love, ‘I’ll always be here when the dark comes crawling around and you can’t find the strength to pick yourselves up. I will always be here, and I will always believe in who you are. You are my friends, my family, you are my life, and I will always protect you and support you. Never forget this- the brothers that stand with you, that will give you their lives. We will always be here together, forever and always.
‘Til all are one.’
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-09-08 06:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-08 06:57 pm (UTC)