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Baby Bone Lullaby	By : paw07 Category: Transformers > Transformers: Animated > Slash - M/M Views: 2664 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Chapter 11: The Fall
Optimus struggled to place a smile on his face, but the truth was … He wasn’t happy. While it was true that he did miss Earth somewhat and sweet Sari, but what was dragging him down was not Cybertron or his new position … but a feeling deep in his spark. Ever since the Soundwave incident, there had been this grip at his spark, this want and need and sorrow and shame …. And he couldn’t calm it with anything. The only thing that slightly made it feel better was when he would dream. When he was dreaming of the mystery mech, the one he was making sweet love to, his spark would become somewhat sated.
Yes, he was now sure that the transformer he was sleeping with was a mech. The dream… was always the same. That was the first thing he noted as the dream carried on. Yes, it was like a lengthy sex dream, so many positions and moans and sweet whispers. The dream was fuzzy and dark and even when he would dwell on it, the details could not be claimed. He just knew it was a mech, there were no breast plate. Though … it was a little more kinky then he could imagine himself being … he didn’t know if he would be into bondage.
Closing his eyes, Optimus dwelled on the dream and wondered if he should head to his office … and dwell on it more intimately.
Yet, just as he started towards his private office, he saw a familiar figure heading down the hall.
Jazz.
Optimus immediately frowned. Not because he was upset to see Jazz … it was just that he felt that Jazz had been ignoring him. He had asked the mech to speak to Sentinel Minor for him so that he could start to rebuild their friendship, but it had been almost an orn and Jazz had yet to speak to him about what Sentinel had said.
Had Sentinel stated that he never wanted to speak to Optimus again? Had something bad happened? Was Sentinel totally wasted and all Jazz could do was get the mech a waste basket. Really, that was the rumor going around. Sentinel’s cases were deplorable. It was as if he had never filled out some of these files before, files completely normal for the Second in Command, and he wouldn’t agree to any meetings. Many at first just thought he was ashamed and refused to face anyway. Really, it wasn’t every day that a mech was a Magnus and then suddenly a Minor again, but now … everyone just presumed he was trashed all the time. There was even a rumor going on that he was an alcoholic.
Personally, Optimus blamed himself for Sentinel’s recent behavior. He should have tried harder to at least keep Sentinel’s Prime title. He should have at least told Ultra Magnus about the incident on Earth. Since Sentinel hadn’t written a full report, the only detail was that it was an encounter with a mentality altering device.
There was no mention of Sentinel’s torture … and personally, Jazz, Ratchet and even himself didn’t want to press the matter without Sentinel’s first eye account. Mostly, because there were too many holes in the story. It was too vague. And for some reason, since Sentinel became Magnus and never told anyone about it, the subject almost felt like a taboo. It felt like a secret. And yet … he knew that he really needed to speak to Ultra Magnus about it now that things had cooled down somewhat. If only to save his friend a little more time.
Though Jazz certainly was not helping him out in that account.
“Jazz,” said Optimus, waving to the other, “Got a second?”
Jazz, giving his thousand dollar smile, skipped over to the newest Second and chirped, “What’s up, OP? Having a good day?”
Optimus shrugged, but found it best not to beat around the bush, “Could be better … Ultra Magnus wants me to go down and … remind Sentinel of his precarious situation.”
Jazz’s smile became strained and he sighed, shoulders sagging as he murmured, “… No, don’t do that. It’s not his fault.”
Optimus sighed, shoulders sagging as the Prime groaned, “He’s drunk … isn’t he?”
Giving a nervous laugh, the ninja-bot agreed, “Probably. He apparently went a two orn vacation right after he was demoted.”
Optimus actually snorted, a part of him relieved somewhat that Sentinel was just relieving his sorrows instead of bottling them up … like he had started to do after Elita’s presumed death. Uh … that was something he didn’t have the spark to tell Sentinel about quiet yet either. He didn’t have the spark to tell his old friend what really became of Elita-1.
“I don’t think it’s funny that Red’s struggling with paperwork. He’s the one doing all of it,” grumbled Jazz, remembering how crest fallen Cliffjumper had looked when he came down to Communications.
“Sorry … Sorry. I’m just relieved. I thought he had given up or something … terrible, but if he’s just wasted on vacation I can breathe a little easier … and get Ultra Magnus off his probably half-drunk back,” chuckled Optimus, his spark calming somewhat where it had been worrying. He had no idea why it had been worried, but Jazz’s confession brought about a huge relief to him.
Jazz actually chuckled as well, feeling comforted.
“Good … though I don’t think he will be happy. Ultra Magnus has been in a bad mood with Sentinel. Mostly because I think he was disappointed in him,” said Jazz, frowning. “And … we haven’t even told him about the Soundwave incident. And I can’t help but wonder if Sentinel’s behavior had something to do with it?”
“Yeah … me too,” murmured Optimus. “I really want to sit down and talk with him about it before telling Magnus though.”
There was a moment of heaviness before the Prime dared ask, “Did he ever get any … help? Anyone to talk to about … why he snapped and attacked me?”
Jazz slowly shook his head, his tone almost depressed. “He … always claimed to be too busy or tired or … there was always just some kind of excuse… And he wouldn’t talk to me about it.”
Another moment of awkward silence filled the hall before they both nodded to a passing femme, than Optimus continued, “Well … two orns is almost up so we should be getting something out of him soon. Or at least some real paperwork. Maybe I will go down and help out whoever is doing Sentinel’s paperwork while he’s out.”
Laughing, Jazz nodded, “Yeah, Cliff sucks at it.”
And yet, even though his mind was a little less heavy … Optimus’ spark was still not content.
…
Sentinel stood there, silent, a breeze pressing against his back and throwing up dust.
In the past, the dust might have bothered him. Pit, being on this planet might have disturbed him before … his world fell apart, before he had been penetrated and, for lack of a better thought, gone mad. He was going mad. It was not normal to have Elita talking to him, and he had never been so afraid of Cons getting on Cybertron or people obeying him… And he had never been so hungry and empty at the same time.
And yet, energon would not sate his appetite and metal fillings did nothing to sooth the aches of his form. He had this ache all about him.
Even his denta hurt.
Staring down at the deep pit, noting that there were some minor signs that someone had been here like an abandoned rope and a sign stating danger, but other than that … no one had visited Elita’s grave. It felt wrong and sick that no one seemed to remember her but him.
His hands becoming fists, rays of hate towards Optimus and self loathing crawling to the surface as he looked at the deep hole, part of him wanted to go back to Cybertron and punch Optimus in the face but … deep down he knew that he was just as at fault. It just hurt too much to think that he had done this to her, but he would make up for it now.
Pulling in a shaky breath, hating how systems were popping up telling him to contact a medic due to self-destructive code (as was common with any suicidal thoughts) and that his energon was low again, Sentinel reached for his visor… readying himself for the dive and wanting to see everything with his own optics, but then he heard a shifting noise behind him.
Turning and for the briefest of flashes he was sure that Elita had been standing there beaming at him, but then the world shifted quickly back to reality and his spark’s hope was drown out by a bulky femme’s voice, “I wouldn’t get to close to that hole if I were you. The ground beneath us is a cavern, the soil is unstable and there is still radiation from the ship that exploded.”
Hand pulling away from his visor, Sentinel tried to play dumb as he spoke to Sonic Trip, “Oh… I was just going to see if I could see the bottom.”
Shaking her head, smiling bitterly, she murmured, “That cave is deep. When the ship exploded, it opened even more underground caverns. Some say that that explosion was where the techno-organics came from. There have been a few teams that have gone down and tried to investigate but the spiders are very defensive against Cybertronians. Some think it’s because they still remember those kids that made their way down there.”
“Kids?” whispered Sentinel, knowing all too well what she meant.
“Yeah, there were some Autobrats looking for treasure. They found it all right but they also found a hoard of spiders… one of the kids even deactivated I hear. A sad tale indeed,” murmured the femme. “But you knew that story already, didn’t you?”
Surprised, optics going wide, he found no reason to deny it, “How did you know?”
Chuckling, getting closer to the edge of the pit, she stared down into the deep darkness for a moment before looking Sentinel in the visor and murmuring, “Of all the teams I’ve taken here, you are the first one to find this place on your own. You didn’t even get lost. So I can only presume that you didn’t come here for organics, did you?”
Frowning, part of him wanting to lie, he found he couldn’t. He didn’t want his last moments to be a lie. Sighing, his words were soft, “You are right … I actually think organics are gross. I just want… I just wanted,” to jump…, “to visit her. The femme that died here. I just wanted to talk with her.”
“So you are an Autobot then?” she asked, her coy expression softening as if she was a mother listening to a sad story, the fading light reflecting off her bulky Con-like form.
He merely glared at her, bitterly spitting, “Just leave me be… I’ve waited a long time to come and see her.”
Putting her hands up, gaining a far more serious expression, Sonic Trip grumbled, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. If talking to her will give your some closure though … I will leave you to it. Just don’t stay out here when it gets dark, kid, okay?”
Nodding, uncertain if he would be glad or not if she looked for his body when he didn’t come back, Sentinel murmured, “I understand.”
Stepping away from the pit, a stone falling into the cataclysm, she gave a soft smile and started to walk away, only to halt and whisper over her shoulder, “It’s more of an organic thing, the few species we’ve ran into, but sometime organics will leave flowering plants for the dead, pretty ones to signify love and loss or something. There might even be some blooming plants in the valley down the way… I’m sure she would like for you to give her some.”
Sentinel turned his head to look at the large femme, caring little that there was fluid dripping from under his visor as he whispered, “Elita would love that.”
Nodding, not wanting to witness such a sad expression of old pain, the femme turned and walked away without another word, leaving the ex-Prime to his miseries.
Watching her fade into the distance, Sentinel thought it best she left. Now, he just had to get some plant blooms and a little courage and then he could end this. It wouldn’t be hard at all.
Not at all.
…
“There is something strange about that Rift Ring. Most of the time he doesn’t even react when I call him by his name,” murmured Aquila as he stopped staring at his fossil specimen, Skyfire and the other’s around the fire.
It wasn’t that they were cold or even needed the light, it was just that Sonic Trip told them that most organics feared fires … except for intelligent organics which none of them were afraid of. Intelligent organics were not overly common which was surprising given that organic planets were far more reoccurring then metallic based ones like Cybertron or their colonies.
“He is a strange one, kind of distant, but he reacted with an intelligent organic society! I am so excited to go over all the pictures and readings he had in his immediate systems… It seems that he was kind of scared of them though,” said Skyfire in excitement, the long trip leaving the scientists and the neutral time to talk. Rift Ring seemed kind of cut off and depressed during the whole trip but at least he had some great stories.
All the scientists were more than tickled pink when he kindly gave them the coordinates for this Earth. Though … it was interesting when he said he was not going to go there again so they were free to have the location.
“Yeah … it’s like he’s hiding something. There are a lot of gaps in his background,” murmured Aquila, his visor becoming bright.
“Yes, his background did quite lack in supporting evidence,” agreed Graph as he looked at his jarred flora.
Sonic Trip, walking into camp, dropped some more dry fuel onto the fire and frowned, “Well, he doesn’t seem to be any harm. A little bit of a jerk maybe, but he seems to have good intentions.”
The other scientists all looked at each other and then Graph and Aquila both nodded in agreement as the jet spoke, “No, I don’t trust him. He’s up to something.”
“Me either. He definitely must not be trusted. He’s lying,” added Graph.
Not wanting everyone to turn on a mech that was just visiting an old friend, Sonic Trip sighed and found no point in hiding the truth from the scientists. It might actually be best if the other’s understood. Sighing, sitting down, she murmured, “Calm down, calm down. Now, let me just say, the reason you feel like Rift Ring is lying is because he is lying.”
“Knew it!”
“He is kind of shifty.”
“Stop,” said the femme before the more paranoid members of the group could escalate this out proportion and start a witch hunt. “It’s not what you think. He’s just a kid … that came here to say good bye to a friend.”
“A friend,” murmured Inquis, finally speaking in his deep purring voice. “I don’t understand. There are no inhabitants on this planet.”
Sighing, hopping the Autobot (what else would he be?) wouldn’t be offended, Sonic Trip murmured, “You know that cavern where the Decepticon ship blew up? Well, let’s just say he’s been there before and he came back to say goodbye to some sad memories.”
Skyfire was the first to get the reference, signing, “Oh, poor kid. I remember that a team tried to get recover some items from the site. They didn’t find a body, though they weren’t down there long with all the giant spiders and radiation. I wish he would have told us the truth though. We could have been more supportive.”
“I don’t take him as the type to accept hugs from strangers, brother,” said Aquila, the far bitterer of the two jet twins. “But that wasn’t what I meant. What I meant was … I … I heard him talking to himself.”
Static Charge actually chuckled at this, the fire crackling between all of them. “I think all of us have talked to ourselves on more than one occasion. Speak our ideas aloud and the sooner they will come to pass as the saying goes.”
“Yes…” admitted Aquila. “But we know we are speaking to ourselves … Rift acted like someone was listening. As if he was … psychologically unsound.”
Skyfire frowned at this, asking his brother, “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”
“I didn’t want to turn back. Everyone has been looking forward to this trip,” said Aquila, trying not to meet his brother’s glare.
“Fine, fine. He might just be weird. Regardless … it’s getting dark. Sonic Trip, let’s go check on him. Just in case … something crawled out of that cavern.”
…
Elita swung her legs over the cavern, her form looking almost normal like in the old days. That is … until she turned her head. Half of her jaw was ripped away and revealing her denta and tongue.
She tilted her head as if nothing was wrong and stared at the blue mech as he stared down at the pit, the specter murmuring, ‘I like the flowers. It is a wonderful gift … even if they are organic. They are beautiful, but … how long are you going to stand there? I’m tired of this decaying form. I just want to hold you… to join our souls in the afterlife. Please don’t make me wait any longer.’
Sentinel sighed, feeling the temperature drop as the sun started to set. He didn’t know why he was delaying this. Elita was getting impatient and really … what purpose was there in stalling? His life was over. His soul was violated, his career was over, and when he needed them the most … it seemed that he had no real friends to speak of. No one to stand and defend him.
“You are right … I guess I’m just afraid of the pain,” he murmured as he looked over the bouquet in his hands, the flowers beautiful with their pinks and yellows but sadly already wilting. So was life he supposed.
‘You have suffered worse,’ Elita murmured, bringing up a decaying hand as she motioned towards his form.
He nodded, his whole form twitching as his survival programs ran wild in his head, struggling and racing and trying to delete his current thoughts of suicide. His systems were trying their darnest to save him, but his resolve was decided and yet he found himself asking, almost like a scared child, “Did it hurt? When you died, Elita?”
Turning the ruined part of her face away, she looked down at the hole, her voice almost a whisper, ‘Not as much as the betrayal … as you watched me fall, but that doesn’t hurt anymore. You’re here now.’
Then, rising up, rust seeming to fall into the sand as she decayed a little more right in front of his optics, she put out a hand. ‘Now, fall with me.’
Swallowing, his systems so erratic he felt dizzy, he slowly nodded and took her hand. And, surprisingly, he felt her hand beneath his. He actually took a shocked breath in, having never been able to touch her before. Then, his resolve to do this restored, he nodded his head. He would not fail her now. Not right now. Not here, again.
Then, throwing the flowers into the pit, he murmured, “I’ll never leave you again.”
Without a second thought, an elation overcoming his fear, he watched her take the first step into the chasm and suddenly fall downward … and he allowed her to drag him downward as well into the depths, their hands intertwined. And, not wanting to see his end, he offlined his optics and almost laughed at his last thought: So this is what it felt like to fly.
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Baby Bone Lullaby