![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ajremixHere we are, the last chapter. I want to thank everyone that's been reading, I hope you've enjoyed watching these characters grew through one of their hardest moments. And I hope you get as much feeling of relief and satisfaction upon reading it that I felt after finishing it.
Title: No Survivors 10
Fandom: Transformers IDW
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3471
Characters: Wreckers, Fireflight, Grimlock
Summary: 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
Part 9
The doors to his office whisked open with a quiet hiss, letting Roadbuster stride in and stretch out the joints along his back and shoulders. Note to self, he thought dryly, no more unexpected hiatuses. It took far too much time and energy trying to get back on top of all the action that was going on and prepping themselves for the next major mission to come down the pipe.
Roadbuster was mildly surprised to find Topspin and Whirl already waiting for him. Topspin was lounging in a chair, feet up on the desk while Whirl was pushing around Hot Rod’s model, making little ‘vroom vroom’ noises.
“Been waiting long, I take it?” His tone was bland, but the obvious sound of a smirk littered his words.
Whirl just shrugged, still pushing the model with the blunt side of his finger. “We came in, you weren’t here. Long enough.”
“How’d the meeting with Prime go?” Topspin asked. It had been several days since the Wreckers had gone to the memorial hall, and it finally felt like they ready to face the universe again.
“Long. Tedious. But informative.” Roadbuster sat down at the desk, then reached across to whap at the jumpstarter’s feet until he dropped them to the floor. “Ratchet installed Springer’s node inside Kup.”
The other two Wreckers leaned forward. “Yeah?”
“There was a brief energy spike. Ratchet said he never tried something like that before so he doesn’t know if that’s an unusual reaction or not. But he said it looked promising and would be keeping us updated.” His green visor flashed wicked bright. “Prowl’s still getting used to his wrist modifiers. Obviously heavier than he’s used to.”
“You never did tell us his reaction to all that.” Topspin propped his chin in a hand.
“When I told him Springer wanted to pass off some components to him he looked a bit surprised, but he took it in stride.”
“And the node?”
Roadbuster’s engine chuckled deeply. “All my centuries knowing him I have never seen Prowl actually gape.”
The other two cackled. “Really? Aw, too bad we missed that!”
The memory struck something a little sharp and painful inside of Roadbuster whenever he thought about that. The fact that Prowl was so shocked about it, that he hadn’t thought himself important enough to Springer to warrant one, that it wasn’t until after Springer died that they were even willing to admit that they meant so much to each other. Roadbuster wasn’t going to attempt to replicate their strange, quincunx relationship, but he was willing to work a little closer to Autobot high command than Springer was. So long as they realized the Wreckers still did their own thing, of course.
“How’s everything going?”
“Well enough,” Topspin answered with a ‘meh’ wave of his hand. “Waiting for the last shipment of supplies to arrive, all the security measures have been updated, all the equipment has been inspected and is in working order. We are, for all intents and purpose, set to go.”
“Good. Prime has a mission for us on Mu Arae that he wants us to leave for by the start of the next shift.”
Whirl crossed his lanky arms, tilting his head curiously. “Yeah? What’s the job?”
“Heavy fighting, lots of casualties, gaseous planet so there’s a lot of openness for creativity on our end.”
“So basically happy fun time.”
“Pretty much.” Roadbuster paused, looking from Whirl to Topspin and back again. He folded his hands over the desk and said, “I did have an actual reason calling the both of you here. We’re in need of a new second in command. Both of you have strengths that would benefit the team, and I’d like to know if there would be a problem having you two work jointly as the second.”
The two looked at each other. Whirl pointed at the medic and said, “You get to deal with all the touchy-feely stuff.” Topspin shrugged, as if he were really expecting anything else. It made sense, anyway. Topspin had the interpersonal skills to deal with the crew’s problems and interact with those outside the Wreckers, gave out sound advice, and was one of the most trustworthy mechs on the team. Whirl had the battle experience and tactical intelligence that Topspin didn’t and none of the other Wreckers questioned his tactics because it was rare that they didn’t get pulled off without a hitch, no matter how off the wall they seemed.
“Good. Your first order of business is to help me figure out who we’re picking up to fill our roster.”
“Who did you have in mind?”
“Why do you think I have someone in mind?”
Two sets of optics stared at Roadbuster knowingly. “I’m thinking Hot Rod,” He admitted- even though he doubted he’d have been able to fool them anyway. He’d known Whirl since before the war, and Topspin was as close to a resident psychologist as they’d likely ever have. They could see through Roadbuster almost as well as Springer could.
“I’d prefer to have another aerial of some kind,” Whirl said, “to keep us strong in the air, but Hot Rod isn’t a terrible choice.”
“We can move Sandstorm to be predominantly air-based- he prefers flying anyway. We can regulate him to be part of the ground crew’s last line,” Topspin added. “Hot Rod does have talent and experience, but the question remains how well he can work with a team.”
“So long as he’s not in charge, he should do fine. I don’t think he’s gotten over his last command experience just yet,” The combat vehicle told them.
Whirl shrugged ironically. “He’ll learn. That’s what family is for, right? To help each other get over their personal demons.”
“I’d suggest taking him out on this mission for a trial run, but I think we need to refigure how we work together, first. Throw in someone new to the mix and you’ll just confuse everyone.”
“Right.” Roadbuster nodded. “We can go over a list of a few other potentials, see if there’s anyone else that may be more capable than Hot Rod.”
A call from Scoop interrupted the talk. “Roadbuster- we got our final shipment of supplies in.”
“Good. Get everyone down to the cargo bay and get everything secure. After that’s been finished, everyone’s off duty until two cycles before we head out.”
“Understood!”
He stood up, tilting his head at the two. “Gentlebots.”
Topspin scowled. “What, you’re making your second in commands do manual labor?”
“Hey- I always did it.”
“Excuses.”
Roadbuster gave him a mock growl, tossing a hand towards the doors. “Get going. Besides, we need to make the announcement to the rest of the team.”
The rest of the team, who were already sorting through the cargo, stopped their work as Roadbuster called their attention and gave him blank looks as he announced the new joint-seconds.
“And?” Broadside rumbled.
“And what?”
“Is that all?”
Roadbuster looked confused. “Was there supposed to be more?”
In reply, Twin Twist spread his arms in a shrug. “Well, we all kinda knew that already. Whirl’s got the experience, Spin’s got the insight. Can’t be an affective second without having both.”
“If you ended up picking one over the other,” Sandstorm added, “we would’ve been surprised. And probably had some words about it.”
His new seconds gave Roadbuster a look that said, ‘did you expect any less?’ “I’d forgotten,” Roadbuster said ruefully, “about this part of the leadering.” The Wreckers didn’t need a hands-on leader, didn’t need anyone micromanaging them. They figured things out for themselves and if a decision was made that they didn’t like, someone heard about it. A lot. Most other officers thought Springer’s leadership with his team was too lax. They just didn’t know the Wreckers- they were fully capable of leading themselves.
Whirl gave Topspin an optic grin. “Easiest. Seconding. Ever.”
Roadbuster shook his head at them all. “Just get to work.”
It was surreal for the Wreckers being able to talk and laugh and play again. A megacycle ago it would’ve been almost impossible to get them to even speak; there were no wicked smirks or flashing optics, there was no life that echoed in Xantium’s halls, no boisterous calls or outrageous boasts.
Yet now Sandstorm and Broadside were playing keep away with Scoop, Roadbuster and Topspin were fighting over who got first dibs on their new energy cannon, and Twin Twist was telling Whirl all the different kinds of fun explosions he could make with the chemicals they’d just picked up.
There was still that emptiness inside without Springer there to fill it with his quick jokes or easy confidence. It was there, and it would hurt, but they wouldn’t let it keep them down. The Wreckers were fighters, they were survivors. They’d do their legacy proud.
Instead of getting the time off like Roadbuster had intended, the little game of keep away turned into a no-rules version of rugby. No sides, no goals, just everyone set to pounce on whoever had the object in question (an empty EO canister). Roadbuster got two jumpstarters to the midsection, and he barely got his arms up enough to toss the canister over his shoulder with the others chasing after it like overexcited bumble-puppies.
Except the one that ended up catching it was Fireflight.
The Aerialbot yelped, backpedaling as half the Wreckers barreled uncontrollably at him. He was saved from certain squishing by Sandstorm; a sudden burst of speed had him pulling out in front of the crowd, and he grabbed Fireflight around the waist and attempted to get them both clear.
Attempting being the key word as whatever it was that got him that extra boost also made him loose control of his trajectory, and they ended up skidding across the deck. The other Wreckers stumbled to a stop and laughed themselves sick.
“Primus, Sandy,” Scoop and Twin Twist snickered their way over to help the two up, “I hope you get some more practice in before you try using those on a mission.”
Sandstorm scowled, letting them pull him to his feet even as he said, “Yeah, yeah. Shut up.” Fireflight boggled.
“What happened?”
Sandstorm lifted up a foot, and the jet realized the soleus plating on his legs had changed. “I inherited Springer’s leg thrusters. He figured it would help me out on my recceing. These things are a lot more powerful that you’d think, I tell ya.” He gave Fireflight a curious look. “What brings you down this way?
“Ratchet asked me to bring something down to Topspin.” His lips pulled into a soft, sweet smile. “And I wanted to see you before you left on your mission.”
“Well, um, okay.” The triplechanger shifted. The change from his normal confident attitude to a fidgeting, nervous one made Fireflight tilt his head in question. “I got something I want to tell you anyway.” He looked over at his fellow Wreckers who all gave him an encouraging gesture. That only served to make Fireflight antsy himself. Sandstorm took him by the arm, “C’mere.”
They didn’t leave the hangar but went towards the back where there was little chance anyone would be able to overhear them or come up unannounced. Fireflight stood patiently while the Wrecker visibly hesitated. Not liking Sandstorm being so self-conscious, the red jet started saying, “If you don’t feel comfortable enough to do this-“
“No!” he said a little too quickly. “I mean- it’s not… it’s just different.” He rubbed at his helmet. “I don’t have to do this with the Wreckers, because they don’t need to know. But you’re not them, and I can’t expect you to want or accept the same things they can. I don’t have to tell them, because it doesn’t matter to them; they need what I am no matter what else happened to me in the past. They don’t need to know this, just like I don’t need to know what they’ve gone through. But it’s different with you. I,” his vocalizer shuttered briefly, trying to gather up the courage to go through this, “I don’t want to keep secrets from you.”
For a moment Fireflight almost told him, ‘You don’t have to, I don’t need to know anything, I just want to have you with me for as long as I can,’ but bit the words back. This obviously meant a lot to Sandstorm, and if he felt it was important enough to do, then Fireflight would accept it. A panel in Sandstorm’s wrist guard slid back, and from inside he pulled out a small node, holding it out in the space between them.
“This,” he said softly, “will tell you everything I can remember. Everything that’s happened to me, everything I’ve done. Wait until after we’ve left to get it installed. Afterwards, if you still want to make this work- if you think I’m worth it then… I-I don’t know, wait for me or leave me a message or something. If not,” Sandstorm couldn’t keep looking Fireflight in the optic, looking at their feet and his arm trembled, “if not then I swear I’ll never bother you again.”
Fireflight took the node from his hand and slipped into Sandstorm’s arms. Talking was never Fireflight’s strong point, and there were all these words he wanted to say but no way to say them. He wanted to tell Sandstorm that he’d always be worth it, that he could never bother the jet, that he’d wait and wait forever for the triplechanger and he wouldn’t care, just so he could feel like this again. Instead he just held Sandstorm tight and hoped he could feel what couldn’t be said in the thrumming of his spark. Just as he could feel just how vulnerable Sandstorm was and that he was doing this for Fireflight.
Eventually he pulled back and with a soft hand brought Sandstorm’s head up to look at him. “I will. I promise.” Sandstorm nodded against his palm, stepping away and rumbling out a little weakly,
“Well, I’m sure Spin wants to know what Ratchet’s got for him.”
Fireflight let Sandstorm lead the way back to where the Wreckers were not-so-discreetly waiting. When the triplechanger came upon them, hands reached out to stroke across his arms or wings, patting his shoulders. The sudden reversal of positions would’ve amused Fireflight on any other day. They crowded protectively around their brother, their stance non-threatening, but it stated clearly ‘he willingly gave you the power to break him utterly, if you hurt him we will never forgive you.’
Topspin stepped forward. “So what did the ever patient CMO want to pass off?”
“Don’t know.” Fireflight tucked Sandstorm’s node into a secured compartment before pulling a datapad out of another one. “I didn’t look at it, said it was supposed to go straight to you. Also said the forms took ‘too slagging long to process’, whatever that means.”
The hovercraft took the datapad curiously, the other Wreckers huddling best they could around his shoulders to peer at it. Topspin activated the pad and read over it. Then paused and boggled and read through it again. His jaw dropped.
“I’ve been commissioned,” he said faintly. “I’m an officially commissioned medical officer!” Cheers and whoops went up around him, and Topspin crowed, picking up Fireflight in a huge bearhug and spun him around. “Flight- you just made my fraggin’ meta-cycle!”
The Aerialbot couldn’t even yelp, just let Topspin celebrate until his processor got dizzy. “Congratulations!” he squeaked with an uncertain grin. The Wreckers knew how much this meant to Topspin; even if he never said anything about it, they all knew the jumpstarter regretted his rash decision in dropping out of med school in order to fight in the war.
Unceremoniously he dropped Fireflight, chattering away about where he should display this- he could put it in his quarters, would it look better in the medbay? Wait, he was a second now so did that mean he got an office- hey, RB-
“Yes, you get an office. You’ll be sharing it with Whirl.”
“If you think I’m sitting that closet space you called an office, you’ve got another thing coming.”
“Oh, yeah- that thing. Yeah, looks like your old office is going to be pretty much abandoned. C’mon, help me figure out where I’m gonna put this! Somewhere show-offey but not pretentious,” Topspin prattled on, holding the datapad proudly in front of him and not once taking his optics off of it. The other Wreckers followed after him, amused and enthralled by his giddiness.
All save for Roadbuster and Sandstorm, the latter who kept his hands at Fireflight’s elbows until his equilibrium returned. Awkwardly, the triplechanger pulled back, trying to find something to say.
Fireflight saved him by merely grabbing his hand and squeezing it. “Good luck. Come back safely.”
Sandstorm nodded back, a ‘thank you’ getting stuck in his vocalizer. Fireflight slid out of his hand with one last smile, a wonderful, spark-lifting smile, and walked out of the bay. A heavy hand on Sandstorm’s shoulder surprised him, but Roadbuster just smiled at him warmly through his battlemask. A tentative, almost searching smile was his answer. They both looked up as the bay doors opened again, and Roadbuster gave the smaller mech another pat before pushing him towards Xantium, telling him to get everyone to start the prep.
With heavy, measured steps, Grimlock crossed the deck, stopping just short of the combat vehicle. “You Wreckers back to business?” Grimlock asked, hands broad on the dark gleam of his hip components. He wasn’t all that much taller than Roadbuster, but the length of his shoulders and waist made him seem so much larger.
Roadbuster looked at the Dinobot leader, the usual contempt and posturing and snide remarks so commonplace between the two teams’ dealings no where in sight. “It’s been too long,” he admitted. “But we’re back.”
“Losing good ‘bots hard,” Grimlock told him. “Him Springer damn good ‘bot.”
“He was. You’ll never find another one like him.”
Grimlock’s optics narrowed, considering his words carefully. “Wreckers strong team, Wreckers strong ‘bots. Not powerful like Dinobots, but strong where counts.” He reached out and thumped heavily on Roadbuster’s chest, right over his spark. “Not strong because Springer good leader, strong because Wreckers believe- in leader, in mission, in team. That strength no one take away. That strength make Wreckers not weak. That strength make Wreckers Dinobots’ brothers.”
That put Roadbuster off balance and a little shocked. He never doubted the strange camaraderie with the Dinobots that existed beneath all the rivalry, but he didn’t expect Grimlock to out right admit to it. It made his internals twist and swell, touched to know just how high the Dinobots regarded them. “Brothers,” he said, holding out his hand. Grimlock grasped his wrist, matching Roadbuster’s grip pound for pound. “Always.”
“Bring back heads.”
Green optics narrowed in challenge. “More than you.” He dropped the hold as the other mech chuckled. “Watch your tail,” Roadbuster told him, moving toward Xantium.
“Watch own tail.” The tyrannosaurus stood there for a moment longer, watching the Wrecker leave. They’d finally been given a direction, given back their purpose, and though Grimlock knew they had overcome a difficult obstacle, this mission would make or break their resolve. He didn’t make it a point to worry about mechs outside his own team, but he hated to see great talent wasted. “Take care,” he muttered to himself before turning out of the hangar.
~*~*~*~
During the trip, Roadbuster finally decided to try to tackle all the messages left on their network and respond to as many as he could. He stopped, though, when he came to a simple note that had come in heavily encrypted on an untraceable channel from two names that brought back long buried memories.
‘He was a good friend and worthy adversary.
-Ons, Combats
For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for your loss.
-TC’
Those two lines shone bright from atop the stack of messages, but Roadbuster’s gaze was on the long black sword hanging on the wall. “Even after all this time,” he told it, “and all these battles, they haven’t forgotten you. Almost amusing that it would take your death to hear from old Academy buddies again, isn’t it? Of course, you’d probably be amused that they remember at all.”
“RB,” Topspin’s voice came up on a comm link, “we’re approaching the orbital station now.”
“On my way.” The combat vehicle took the note and bounced back a quick ‘Thank you. It’s good to hear from you both again.’ before standing up. Roadbuster paused as he came to the sword and put his hand to the pommel. “We’ll make you proud,” he said, squeezing his hand over it briefly before he walked out of the room and back to business.
Title: No Survivors 10
Fandom: Transformers IDW
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3471
Characters: Wreckers, Fireflight, Grimlock
Summary: 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
Part 9
The doors to his office whisked open with a quiet hiss, letting Roadbuster stride in and stretch out the joints along his back and shoulders. Note to self, he thought dryly, no more unexpected hiatuses. It took far too much time and energy trying to get back on top of all the action that was going on and prepping themselves for the next major mission to come down the pipe.
Roadbuster was mildly surprised to find Topspin and Whirl already waiting for him. Topspin was lounging in a chair, feet up on the desk while Whirl was pushing around Hot Rod’s model, making little ‘vroom vroom’ noises.
“Been waiting long, I take it?” His tone was bland, but the obvious sound of a smirk littered his words.
Whirl just shrugged, still pushing the model with the blunt side of his finger. “We came in, you weren’t here. Long enough.”
“How’d the meeting with Prime go?” Topspin asked. It had been several days since the Wreckers had gone to the memorial hall, and it finally felt like they ready to face the universe again.
“Long. Tedious. But informative.” Roadbuster sat down at the desk, then reached across to whap at the jumpstarter’s feet until he dropped them to the floor. “Ratchet installed Springer’s node inside Kup.”
The other two Wreckers leaned forward. “Yeah?”
“There was a brief energy spike. Ratchet said he never tried something like that before so he doesn’t know if that’s an unusual reaction or not. But he said it looked promising and would be keeping us updated.” His green visor flashed wicked bright. “Prowl’s still getting used to his wrist modifiers. Obviously heavier than he’s used to.”
“You never did tell us his reaction to all that.” Topspin propped his chin in a hand.
“When I told him Springer wanted to pass off some components to him he looked a bit surprised, but he took it in stride.”
“And the node?”
Roadbuster’s engine chuckled deeply. “All my centuries knowing him I have never seen Prowl actually gape.”
The other two cackled. “Really? Aw, too bad we missed that!”
The memory struck something a little sharp and painful inside of Roadbuster whenever he thought about that. The fact that Prowl was so shocked about it, that he hadn’t thought himself important enough to Springer to warrant one, that it wasn’t until after Springer died that they were even willing to admit that they meant so much to each other. Roadbuster wasn’t going to attempt to replicate their strange, quincunx relationship, but he was willing to work a little closer to Autobot high command than Springer was. So long as they realized the Wreckers still did their own thing, of course.
“How’s everything going?”
“Well enough,” Topspin answered with a ‘meh’ wave of his hand. “Waiting for the last shipment of supplies to arrive, all the security measures have been updated, all the equipment has been inspected and is in working order. We are, for all intents and purpose, set to go.”
“Good. Prime has a mission for us on Mu Arae that he wants us to leave for by the start of the next shift.”
Whirl crossed his lanky arms, tilting his head curiously. “Yeah? What’s the job?”
“Heavy fighting, lots of casualties, gaseous planet so there’s a lot of openness for creativity on our end.”
“So basically happy fun time.”
“Pretty much.” Roadbuster paused, looking from Whirl to Topspin and back again. He folded his hands over the desk and said, “I did have an actual reason calling the both of you here. We’re in need of a new second in command. Both of you have strengths that would benefit the team, and I’d like to know if there would be a problem having you two work jointly as the second.”
The two looked at each other. Whirl pointed at the medic and said, “You get to deal with all the touchy-feely stuff.” Topspin shrugged, as if he were really expecting anything else. It made sense, anyway. Topspin had the interpersonal skills to deal with the crew’s problems and interact with those outside the Wreckers, gave out sound advice, and was one of the most trustworthy mechs on the team. Whirl had the battle experience and tactical intelligence that Topspin didn’t and none of the other Wreckers questioned his tactics because it was rare that they didn’t get pulled off without a hitch, no matter how off the wall they seemed.
“Good. Your first order of business is to help me figure out who we’re picking up to fill our roster.”
“Who did you have in mind?”
“Why do you think I have someone in mind?”
Two sets of optics stared at Roadbuster knowingly. “I’m thinking Hot Rod,” He admitted- even though he doubted he’d have been able to fool them anyway. He’d known Whirl since before the war, and Topspin was as close to a resident psychologist as they’d likely ever have. They could see through Roadbuster almost as well as Springer could.
“I’d prefer to have another aerial of some kind,” Whirl said, “to keep us strong in the air, but Hot Rod isn’t a terrible choice.”
“We can move Sandstorm to be predominantly air-based- he prefers flying anyway. We can regulate him to be part of the ground crew’s last line,” Topspin added. “Hot Rod does have talent and experience, but the question remains how well he can work with a team.”
“So long as he’s not in charge, he should do fine. I don’t think he’s gotten over his last command experience just yet,” The combat vehicle told them.
Whirl shrugged ironically. “He’ll learn. That’s what family is for, right? To help each other get over their personal demons.”
“I’d suggest taking him out on this mission for a trial run, but I think we need to refigure how we work together, first. Throw in someone new to the mix and you’ll just confuse everyone.”
“Right.” Roadbuster nodded. “We can go over a list of a few other potentials, see if there’s anyone else that may be more capable than Hot Rod.”
A call from Scoop interrupted the talk. “Roadbuster- we got our final shipment of supplies in.”
“Good. Get everyone down to the cargo bay and get everything secure. After that’s been finished, everyone’s off duty until two cycles before we head out.”
“Understood!”
He stood up, tilting his head at the two. “Gentlebots.”
Topspin scowled. “What, you’re making your second in commands do manual labor?”
“Hey- I always did it.”
“Excuses.”
Roadbuster gave him a mock growl, tossing a hand towards the doors. “Get going. Besides, we need to make the announcement to the rest of the team.”
The rest of the team, who were already sorting through the cargo, stopped their work as Roadbuster called their attention and gave him blank looks as he announced the new joint-seconds.
“And?” Broadside rumbled.
“And what?”
“Is that all?”
Roadbuster looked confused. “Was there supposed to be more?”
In reply, Twin Twist spread his arms in a shrug. “Well, we all kinda knew that already. Whirl’s got the experience, Spin’s got the insight. Can’t be an affective second without having both.”
“If you ended up picking one over the other,” Sandstorm added, “we would’ve been surprised. And probably had some words about it.”
His new seconds gave Roadbuster a look that said, ‘did you expect any less?’ “I’d forgotten,” Roadbuster said ruefully, “about this part of the leadering.” The Wreckers didn’t need a hands-on leader, didn’t need anyone micromanaging them. They figured things out for themselves and if a decision was made that they didn’t like, someone heard about it. A lot. Most other officers thought Springer’s leadership with his team was too lax. They just didn’t know the Wreckers- they were fully capable of leading themselves.
Whirl gave Topspin an optic grin. “Easiest. Seconding. Ever.”
Roadbuster shook his head at them all. “Just get to work.”
It was surreal for the Wreckers being able to talk and laugh and play again. A megacycle ago it would’ve been almost impossible to get them to even speak; there were no wicked smirks or flashing optics, there was no life that echoed in Xantium’s halls, no boisterous calls or outrageous boasts.
Yet now Sandstorm and Broadside were playing keep away with Scoop, Roadbuster and Topspin were fighting over who got first dibs on their new energy cannon, and Twin Twist was telling Whirl all the different kinds of fun explosions he could make with the chemicals they’d just picked up.
There was still that emptiness inside without Springer there to fill it with his quick jokes or easy confidence. It was there, and it would hurt, but they wouldn’t let it keep them down. The Wreckers were fighters, they were survivors. They’d do their legacy proud.
Instead of getting the time off like Roadbuster had intended, the little game of keep away turned into a no-rules version of rugby. No sides, no goals, just everyone set to pounce on whoever had the object in question (an empty EO canister). Roadbuster got two jumpstarters to the midsection, and he barely got his arms up enough to toss the canister over his shoulder with the others chasing after it like overexcited bumble-puppies.
Except the one that ended up catching it was Fireflight.
The Aerialbot yelped, backpedaling as half the Wreckers barreled uncontrollably at him. He was saved from certain squishing by Sandstorm; a sudden burst of speed had him pulling out in front of the crowd, and he grabbed Fireflight around the waist and attempted to get them both clear.
Attempting being the key word as whatever it was that got him that extra boost also made him loose control of his trajectory, and they ended up skidding across the deck. The other Wreckers stumbled to a stop and laughed themselves sick.
“Primus, Sandy,” Scoop and Twin Twist snickered their way over to help the two up, “I hope you get some more practice in before you try using those on a mission.”
Sandstorm scowled, letting them pull him to his feet even as he said, “Yeah, yeah. Shut up.” Fireflight boggled.
“What happened?”
Sandstorm lifted up a foot, and the jet realized the soleus plating on his legs had changed. “I inherited Springer’s leg thrusters. He figured it would help me out on my recceing. These things are a lot more powerful that you’d think, I tell ya.” He gave Fireflight a curious look. “What brings you down this way?
“Ratchet asked me to bring something down to Topspin.” His lips pulled into a soft, sweet smile. “And I wanted to see you before you left on your mission.”
“Well, um, okay.” The triplechanger shifted. The change from his normal confident attitude to a fidgeting, nervous one made Fireflight tilt his head in question. “I got something I want to tell you anyway.” He looked over at his fellow Wreckers who all gave him an encouraging gesture. That only served to make Fireflight antsy himself. Sandstorm took him by the arm, “C’mere.”
They didn’t leave the hangar but went towards the back where there was little chance anyone would be able to overhear them or come up unannounced. Fireflight stood patiently while the Wrecker visibly hesitated. Not liking Sandstorm being so self-conscious, the red jet started saying, “If you don’t feel comfortable enough to do this-“
“No!” he said a little too quickly. “I mean- it’s not… it’s just different.” He rubbed at his helmet. “I don’t have to do this with the Wreckers, because they don’t need to know. But you’re not them, and I can’t expect you to want or accept the same things they can. I don’t have to tell them, because it doesn’t matter to them; they need what I am no matter what else happened to me in the past. They don’t need to know this, just like I don’t need to know what they’ve gone through. But it’s different with you. I,” his vocalizer shuttered briefly, trying to gather up the courage to go through this, “I don’t want to keep secrets from you.”
For a moment Fireflight almost told him, ‘You don’t have to, I don’t need to know anything, I just want to have you with me for as long as I can,’ but bit the words back. This obviously meant a lot to Sandstorm, and if he felt it was important enough to do, then Fireflight would accept it. A panel in Sandstorm’s wrist guard slid back, and from inside he pulled out a small node, holding it out in the space between them.
“This,” he said softly, “will tell you everything I can remember. Everything that’s happened to me, everything I’ve done. Wait until after we’ve left to get it installed. Afterwards, if you still want to make this work- if you think I’m worth it then… I-I don’t know, wait for me or leave me a message or something. If not,” Sandstorm couldn’t keep looking Fireflight in the optic, looking at their feet and his arm trembled, “if not then I swear I’ll never bother you again.”
Fireflight took the node from his hand and slipped into Sandstorm’s arms. Talking was never Fireflight’s strong point, and there were all these words he wanted to say but no way to say them. He wanted to tell Sandstorm that he’d always be worth it, that he could never bother the jet, that he’d wait and wait forever for the triplechanger and he wouldn’t care, just so he could feel like this again. Instead he just held Sandstorm tight and hoped he could feel what couldn’t be said in the thrumming of his spark. Just as he could feel just how vulnerable Sandstorm was and that he was doing this for Fireflight.
Eventually he pulled back and with a soft hand brought Sandstorm’s head up to look at him. “I will. I promise.” Sandstorm nodded against his palm, stepping away and rumbling out a little weakly,
“Well, I’m sure Spin wants to know what Ratchet’s got for him.”
Fireflight let Sandstorm lead the way back to where the Wreckers were not-so-discreetly waiting. When the triplechanger came upon them, hands reached out to stroke across his arms or wings, patting his shoulders. The sudden reversal of positions would’ve amused Fireflight on any other day. They crowded protectively around their brother, their stance non-threatening, but it stated clearly ‘he willingly gave you the power to break him utterly, if you hurt him we will never forgive you.’
Topspin stepped forward. “So what did the ever patient CMO want to pass off?”
“Don’t know.” Fireflight tucked Sandstorm’s node into a secured compartment before pulling a datapad out of another one. “I didn’t look at it, said it was supposed to go straight to you. Also said the forms took ‘too slagging long to process’, whatever that means.”
The hovercraft took the datapad curiously, the other Wreckers huddling best they could around his shoulders to peer at it. Topspin activated the pad and read over it. Then paused and boggled and read through it again. His jaw dropped.
“I’ve been commissioned,” he said faintly. “I’m an officially commissioned medical officer!” Cheers and whoops went up around him, and Topspin crowed, picking up Fireflight in a huge bearhug and spun him around. “Flight- you just made my fraggin’ meta-cycle!”
The Aerialbot couldn’t even yelp, just let Topspin celebrate until his processor got dizzy. “Congratulations!” he squeaked with an uncertain grin. The Wreckers knew how much this meant to Topspin; even if he never said anything about it, they all knew the jumpstarter regretted his rash decision in dropping out of med school in order to fight in the war.
Unceremoniously he dropped Fireflight, chattering away about where he should display this- he could put it in his quarters, would it look better in the medbay? Wait, he was a second now so did that mean he got an office- hey, RB-
“Yes, you get an office. You’ll be sharing it with Whirl.”
“If you think I’m sitting that closet space you called an office, you’ve got another thing coming.”
“Oh, yeah- that thing. Yeah, looks like your old office is going to be pretty much abandoned. C’mon, help me figure out where I’m gonna put this! Somewhere show-offey but not pretentious,” Topspin prattled on, holding the datapad proudly in front of him and not once taking his optics off of it. The other Wreckers followed after him, amused and enthralled by his giddiness.
All save for Roadbuster and Sandstorm, the latter who kept his hands at Fireflight’s elbows until his equilibrium returned. Awkwardly, the triplechanger pulled back, trying to find something to say.
Fireflight saved him by merely grabbing his hand and squeezing it. “Good luck. Come back safely.”
Sandstorm nodded back, a ‘thank you’ getting stuck in his vocalizer. Fireflight slid out of his hand with one last smile, a wonderful, spark-lifting smile, and walked out of the bay. A heavy hand on Sandstorm’s shoulder surprised him, but Roadbuster just smiled at him warmly through his battlemask. A tentative, almost searching smile was his answer. They both looked up as the bay doors opened again, and Roadbuster gave the smaller mech another pat before pushing him towards Xantium, telling him to get everyone to start the prep.
With heavy, measured steps, Grimlock crossed the deck, stopping just short of the combat vehicle. “You Wreckers back to business?” Grimlock asked, hands broad on the dark gleam of his hip components. He wasn’t all that much taller than Roadbuster, but the length of his shoulders and waist made him seem so much larger.
Roadbuster looked at the Dinobot leader, the usual contempt and posturing and snide remarks so commonplace between the two teams’ dealings no where in sight. “It’s been too long,” he admitted. “But we’re back.”
“Losing good ‘bots hard,” Grimlock told him. “Him Springer damn good ‘bot.”
“He was. You’ll never find another one like him.”
Grimlock’s optics narrowed, considering his words carefully. “Wreckers strong team, Wreckers strong ‘bots. Not powerful like Dinobots, but strong where counts.” He reached out and thumped heavily on Roadbuster’s chest, right over his spark. “Not strong because Springer good leader, strong because Wreckers believe- in leader, in mission, in team. That strength no one take away. That strength make Wreckers not weak. That strength make Wreckers Dinobots’ brothers.”
That put Roadbuster off balance and a little shocked. He never doubted the strange camaraderie with the Dinobots that existed beneath all the rivalry, but he didn’t expect Grimlock to out right admit to it. It made his internals twist and swell, touched to know just how high the Dinobots regarded them. “Brothers,” he said, holding out his hand. Grimlock grasped his wrist, matching Roadbuster’s grip pound for pound. “Always.”
“Bring back heads.”
Green optics narrowed in challenge. “More than you.” He dropped the hold as the other mech chuckled. “Watch your tail,” Roadbuster told him, moving toward Xantium.
“Watch own tail.” The tyrannosaurus stood there for a moment longer, watching the Wrecker leave. They’d finally been given a direction, given back their purpose, and though Grimlock knew they had overcome a difficult obstacle, this mission would make or break their resolve. He didn’t make it a point to worry about mechs outside his own team, but he hated to see great talent wasted. “Take care,” he muttered to himself before turning out of the hangar.
~*~*~*~
During the trip, Roadbuster finally decided to try to tackle all the messages left on their network and respond to as many as he could. He stopped, though, when he came to a simple note that had come in heavily encrypted on an untraceable channel from two names that brought back long buried memories.
‘He was a good friend and worthy adversary.
-Ons, Combats
For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for your loss.
-TC’
Those two lines shone bright from atop the stack of messages, but Roadbuster’s gaze was on the long black sword hanging on the wall. “Even after all this time,” he told it, “and all these battles, they haven’t forgotten you. Almost amusing that it would take your death to hear from old Academy buddies again, isn’t it? Of course, you’d probably be amused that they remember at all.”
“RB,” Topspin’s voice came up on a comm link, “we’re approaching the orbital station now.”
“On my way.” The combat vehicle took the note and bounced back a quick ‘Thank you. It’s good to hear from you both again.’ before standing up. Roadbuster paused as he came to the sword and put his hand to the pommel. “We’ll make you proud,” he said, squeezing his hand over it briefly before he walked out of the room and back to business.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-09-09 10:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-09 11:20 am (UTC)I was so hoping after the last part that there would be another part, and you didn't disappoint. What a wonderful resolution to it all.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-09 05:25 pm (UTC)Thank you for sharing.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-10 05:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-10 05:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-10 05:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-10 05:06 am (UTC)Thank you for reading.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-11 12:00 am (UTC)I quite enjoyed the FlightxSandy stuff you threw in too! *shameless fangirl*
Your work is amazing, thank you for sharing it with us!
~<3 Tamariks
no subject
Date: 2010-09-11 12:26 am (UTC)