Already Broken | By : Breech_Loader Category: Transformers > G1 > AU/AR Views: 3421 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
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Already Broken
Co-Written by Harley Quinn hyenaholic and Red Alert
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Harley: It’s been a real long time since I uploaded on this fic. Man but I get lazy sometimes. I just forget about things. Even if I’m not working on it right now, I should at least deal with the chapters I have... so here’s another.
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Chapter Eleven: Badly Ill
Tracks sat down, holding Sunstreaker to him, "I know you kind of hate me right now, Sunny," he said, stroking the wings on Sunstreaker's face, "But I don't hate you. Even if you are annoying sometimes. That doesn't mean I hate you," he kissed Sunstreaker's cheek, "Are you angry?"
"Angry?" Sunstreaker felt himself getting all het up again, "Oh, like there's no way in the PIT I'm angry. Slag no," he scowled and folded his arms, jerking his head away, "Whatever made you think that? Primus."
"Well... could you tell me what it is you're not angry about?" Tracks suggested, stroking Sunstreaker's shoulders, "Apart from me trying to feed you. I should have known that wouldn't work."
"Then why the Pit did you DO it!?" Sunstreaker snapped.
"Because I wasn't thinking," Tracks said, "Or I was thinking, but not right. I thought you'd give in, but I should have known better. You didn't. I see little point in trying the same thing again."
"You thought I'd give in," Sunstreaker pushed his face right up into Tracks' own, his grin devilish and more than a little disturbing, "Tracks. Do you even know who you're speaking to? DO you?"
"Yeah, like I said, I should have known better," Tracks replied, not retreating, "I mean, this is Sunny. You never give in about anything. You're so freaking stubborn it's like there's a glitch in your programming." He smiled, placing one hand on Sunstreaker's shoulder.
"Just like the supposed blow in my logic circuits," Sunstreaker scowled into Tracks' face, shrugging his hand off his shoulder, "Quit it. There's nothing wrong with me!"
"No, you don't understand," Tracks insisted, "I didn't mean your stubbornness was something wrong with you... I mean, it's not the greatest quality, but it is one of the things that... I like... about your personality."
Sunstreaker cocked his head slightly to one side, pulling back out of Tracks' face a little, "What? WHAT? What's that supposed to mean?"
"I'm saying that maybe you're right," Tracks said, "Maybe there is nothing wrong with you." Telling the truth - that Sunny was slowly killing himself - hadn't worked. Maybe agreeing with Sunny that he was doing the right thing would convince him that Tracks wanted to help.
Sunstreaker eyed him for a long moment, as if weighing him up. He wondered briefly whether Tracks was bluffing or not, whether he was to be trusted, "It took you a while for you to see that. There's nothing wrong with me-" a small smile and a puff of the chest, "I'm just motivated."
"I still think you could use some help," Tracks replied. This at least wasn't a lie. He stroked Sunstreaker's cheek, "Please, I know it's not easy right now, but I'd appreciate it if you could trust me."
"If there's nothing wrong with me," Sunstreaker inquired, a little suspicious, "What do I need your help with?"
"Well, everybody needs help sometimes," Tracks said, "I need help. Old Ratchet needs help. Even Optimus Prime needs help sometimes, I guess. And you needed help with Starscream just then. He was ready to shred you."
"He couldn't have done that even if he tried," Sunstreaker grinned, "Look at me, Tracks. I could've smashed that scum's faceplates in. Honestly. What do you take me for, a weakling?"
"I don't think you're weak, but that was Starscream,” Tracks pointed out, “And you didn't seem to be having the best of luck fighting off his advances. He's a disgusting pervert, and I imagine he had more in mind than just carving a Decepticon symbol into your paint."
"Give over,” Sunstreaker snapped, “I could have stopped him by a long shot. As I said, I'm no weakling. I can handle a SEEKER of all things fine by myself!"
Irritated, Tracks glowered, "Then why weren't you able to fight him off when he kissed you?" he asked, "Did you want him to do that? Maybe I should just give up now and leave you in his arms."
"Do whatever the frag you like," Sunstreaker scowled.
"Well you know what?" Tracks asked, "I don't really want to leave you here. I already told you, I want to stay with you."
"Then don't threaten me with abandonment!" Sunstreaker started to get to a wobbly pair of legs, weak as ever, "You have no choice if that's what you think! You'll have to stay here with me!"
"I'm sorry..." Tracks stood up, holding Sunstreaker, aware that he was ready to collapse, "Sunny..." he paused, "Will you forgive me?"
Sunstreaker wobbled a little, stumbling out of Tracks' hold on him and a few steps to the side, "Don't call me that. Only Sideswipe does. And..." he teetered, "No. Not for tipping Energon down my throat."
"Sunstreaker, please," Tracks didn't like apologising, but it seemed that he had to, "I'm sorry. And you can barely stand right now. I'm not leaving you to the mercies of Starscream when he comes to," he caught hold of Sunstreaker again, "Please. I love you. I love you and I want you to love me too."
"Give over," Sunstreaker almost smiled, his speech becoming quite slurred, "Pleeease. Starscream, he's not gonna cause me any harm. Harmless." He took no notice of Tracks' confession and wish to him, "Stop it. Not in the mood-" Not so suddenly, there was quite a crash as the yellow Lamborghini toppled over backwards, hitting the dirt shoulders-first with a resounding hollow clang. His optics faded and dimmed out to a sullen greyish teal colour, the colour of the sky on a stormy day. A single hacked cough wracked Sunstreaker's systems before he was forced offline, yet not quite into stasis lock.
"Oh no... oh no..." Tracks moaned, kneeling beside him, "Sunny... Sunstreaker..." he cupped the yellow Lamborghini's face in his hands, "Don't you SEE?!" he shouted at the other mech, "You're killing yourself! Please! Please LISTEN to me!" he begged the semi-conscious mech. His hands shaking, he took another cube of Energon from his chassis, unsure of whether to try feeding the mech again.
He fought with his mind for a moment. There was always the fear of the yellow mech choking on the Energon, or waking up and throttling him for it, or - Primus forbid - not waking up at all. Tracks was truly torn - he didn't know what he could do for his comrade at the moment. He didn't know the difference between an action that could kill and an action that could actually help.
He also knew he wouldn't be able to carry an unconscious Sunstreaker all the way back to base. Finally, his hands still shaking, he sat the full Energon cube beside Sunstreaker, and pulled the Lamborghini into his lap, setting him in recharge. If Sunny didn't want to get better, there was little point constantly forcing Energon down his throat.
Tracks just prayed to Primus that the mech he loved would wake up. That, or somebody would find him. Somebody who knew what to do.
~~~
According to Sunstreaker's internal chronometer, he woke up no less than two and a half hours later. The sun was setting and he was almost disgusted to find he'd been snug and tight in Tracks' arms the whole time. Slowly pushing himself up to gaze wearily in front of him, he caught sight of a full cube of Energon. Cocking an optic ridge, he sat back against Tracks this time, pausing for thought.
Tracks, still recharging, sighed and stroked Suntreaker's chassis gently, "Please, please wake up..." the blue Corvette murmured in his sleep, shifting a little.
Sunstreaker jolted in the Corvette's arms, shifting along with him so as not to wake him up. To say he was surprised was an understatement. Since when had Tracks cared, let alone display concern or affection? It was obvious that cube of Energon had been intended for him, that much was clear. It was still full, though. So Tracks hadn't tried to shove the lot down his throat? The Lamborghini felt suddenly guilty. Maybe Tracks HAD been trying to earn his trust.
"Please Sunny... 'm sorry... Please wake up..." Tracks' hands were shaking slightly as his fingers touched the Lamborghini's cheek; Sunstreaker could feel them.
The Lamborghini took hold of Tracks' hands and pulled them down, forgetting to be gentle. Peering over at the Energon he quickly upturned the lot onto the ground and covered the splash up - maybe he could convince Tracks he'd drunk the cube's worth of nourishment.
Tracks shifted - much more violently this time - and sat up, coming out of recharge. As usual, for a moment he didn't know where he was, but he soon saw the Energon soaking into the ground, and Sunstreaker in his arms.
Sunstreaker gave a sheepish grin, "Uh. Evening?"
"You know, I was going to use that, if you still didn't want to," Tracks pointed out, "And you fainted in my arms. Don't tell me that you're just fine, unless you really want a punch in the face too."
"Well, I am. I'm awake. Healthy. Conveniently empty-stomached." He waved an arm, "I'm FINE and I'll belt anyone who says otherwise." All things considered, Sunstreaker was in a pretty decent mood. Primus knew why.
"Fainting doesn't exactly prove that," Tracks sighed, "But I'm sick of arguing about this with you. And I'm sick of making you unhappy when I don't even know what I said wrong. But it doesn't mean I don't care."
"Whatever." Sunstreaker gave a casual toss of the head, "I'm getting bored of this topic."
"What would you rather talk about?" Tracks asked, raising the tips of his fingers to Sunstreaker's cheek again.
"Something that doesn't involve me supposedly going mad." He turned his head away, rubbing the side of his face with one hand, "We've agreed that I'm not."
Tracks groaned, "How about the way I feel I'm going mad then?" he asked, "I tell you I care, and you ignore me. I tell you I love you, and somehow you ignore me more. I know you don't feel the same but I can't keep myself from trying anyway."
"It's because I'm more beautiful. Isn't it?" Sunstreaker was grinning - honest to Primus, grinning - as he honestly thought this was the truth, "ISN'T it?" He pressed, leaning back against Tracks' chest and torso, "I knew it."
"No, Sunny, I don't love you just because you're attractive," Tracks replied, "I care about you because of your skill in battle, and because you're a sensible, loving person... or maybe that was all things I imagined because that was what I wanted you to be."
Sunstreaker's features hardened, his body visibly tensing, "Yeah. You probably did!" He squirmed backwards and scrambled to his feet again, this time only just slightly stronger from his very short recharge, "I'm not what anyone makes me out to be. I'm trying to be perfect!" he shouted, fuming.
Tracks didn't look up at Sunstreaker, "It's not possible to be perfect," he said. He leant forward, covering his face, and after a few seconds, he started to cry, very quietly, "I don't want you to be perfect. I don't need you to be perfect... I just want you to be happy..." When he managed to get a hold of himself and lowered his hands again, Sunstreaker could see the smears of oily tears that had ran down his face.
Sunstreaker dismissed the feeling of guilt, "I'm trying anyway. I'm perfect and happy like this!" He gestured to himself, his whole body, "Can't you understand that!?"
"Then why do you keep saying that you're trying to be perfect like me?" Tracks asked, "I'm not exactly the best role model for perfection, if you haven't noticed!"
"I did notice," Sunstreaker hissed, "LOOK at yourself!"
"I did hear you telling me that I'm perfect, Sunny!" Tracks shouted, "I'm not deaf, and I'm not an idiot! The idiot is you, if you think you can convince me one moment that you're a disgusting pile of waste, and the next that you're perfection on wheels!" he shouted.
"Since when?!" Sunstreaker hollered, infuriated, "This is why I kept to myself! Nobody makes a fragging EFFORT to understand!" With that he transformed - if painfully and slowly - and somehow managed to kick his engine into life, screeching away in a huge billowing cloud of dust. He just wanted to be as far away as Tracks as he could. Was that too much to ask?
"Oh no you don't!" Tracks followed him far more easily; Sunstreaker couldn't even manage a decent speed right now. He skidded in front of him, transformed and grabbed him, shaking him until he transformed again, "You want it? You want it?!" he shouted, "Fine! You're ugly! You're badly shaped! You're stupid and immature and ungrateful and arrogant and smug and a jerk and a creep and I LOVE YOU!" All the time, Tracks was shaking Sunstreaker until his teeth rattled.
Sunstreaker, fragile from the shaking, finally managed to splutter out a gobsmacked "What?!" He wasn't sure if he was dreaming or not - was this all a hallucination? - but something clicked in his processors as soon as Tracks spat out the insults. Like the Corvette actually understood; like he was finally starting to 'get' the whole situation, "That's what I've been trying to say the whole. Fragging. TIME! You moron!" It was Sunstreaker's turn to give Tracks a good shaking this time, tears spilling freely from his optics, "Why did it take you all this time?! You're the first to understand!" More shaking, "That's been- it- the whole POINT... people judged, they dismissed everything as silly- but you! You GET it!" The Lamborghini stopped the shaking and let go, taking some shaky steps backwards, "It's- it's like-" Sunstreaker just couldn't find the right words to string a coherent sentence together. He just... couldn't. It had taken such a fragging long time for him to drill it through someone - anyone's - infuriatingly thick cranial unit. But he'd done it. Now, perhaps, Tracks would help him along? Join in, maybe? the Lamborghini flicked the tears away with one hand. He didn't know if they were tears of happiness or otherwise, but damn he wasn't about to complain about what he felt inside.
"But I don't want you to be unhappy!" Tracks almost screamed at Sunstreaker, "And I don't want to hurt you! Why are you making this so HARD?!"
"Do you think I'm doing this on PURPOSE!?" Sunstreaker screamed, a scream that pushed his vocal components to their absolute limits, "How shallow do you have to BE!?"
Tracks groaned, "What is it you want me to do? Who is it you want me to be?" he asked, letting go of Sunstreaker, "You're absolutely impossible! In every way!" Suddenly finding himself angered by Sunstreaker's obnoxiousness, he slapped the yellow mech.
Sunstreaker slapped him back full-force with no hesitation, "If you're just going to do THAT-" another slap, "-Then you can head back to the fragging base! Go on, get lost! Get out of my sight!" he spat, giving Tracks a good hard shove backwards.
"Oh no you don't! You're not shoving me away like that!" Tracks snapped, the blows weak and ineffectual, "You are such a JERK, Sunny!"
"I just fragging did, deal?!" Sunstreaker was actually unsubspacing his rifle now, in a spat of furiousness. Whether he'd fire it or not was another matter altogether.
"Put that away, Sunstreaker!" Tracks replied, "I'm sick of your attitude!"
"I'll put it away," he snapped in reply, "Once you GO away! Go on!!"
"Just put it away, Sunstreaker," a much older voice spoke behind him. It sounded more tired than angry. When Sunstreaker paused and turned, and Tracks looked over his shoulder, it was Ratchet, accompanied by Sideswipe, "Tracks wasn't the only person looking for you," the medic said calmly, "Please put your gun down."
Sunstreaker wasn't startled. It just made him all the more angry, "What the heck are you going to do if I don't!?" he hissed, still with the rifle trained on Tracks.
Tracks put a hand on the rifle and aimed it down at the ground, "How about we just fight naked in the mud until one of us gives in?" he asked mockingly.
Sunstreaker's temper flared up once again, "Are you mocking me!?" he screamed loud enough to make everyone wince, "How DARE-"
Tracks gritted his teeth, and slapped Sunstreaker across the face again - not hard, but more like he was a spoilt child, "STOP IT!" he shouted sharply.
At this point the yellow Lamborghini took to hurling the rifle at Tracks, turning on his heel and storming off past Ratchet and Sideswipe. He figured he didn't want to be passing out all over again over lack of energy - especially not in the presence of a medical officer.
Ratchet caught hold of him, "Oh no you don't," the medic told him, "Your legs are shaking and you can barely walk. You are coming back to base with me, Sideswipe and Tracks. And then I'm going to run a scan on your CPU to find out exactly what's wrong with you."
"No you fragging won't!" Sunstreaker struggled, albeit weakly, "So what? Just a little leg shakiness isn't going to hurt!"
Ratchet shook his head, disappointed, "The way things are going right now, kid," he sighed, "It could kill you."
~~~
Harley: Okay, so I'm back on for this. For a while. Hopefully. Tell me what you think.
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