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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
- 7
- 8
- 9
And time passed. There is not much else to say than that. Optimus fought his battle on Earth, his urges less often but still persistent and Sentinel finally got to Cybertron where he normally completely ignored his urges. And so, predictably, Sentinel became the next Magnus, though he did not get the fancy ceremony that he imagined. It had not been as grand or as glamorous as his mind had always predicted it to be. It had been stoic and professional and in the dead of night when Alpha Trion had stood before him, bestowing a temporary title. He would not be upgraded to a larger form until it was assured that Ultra Magnus would not survive his encounter with the spy.
Longarms … the traitor.
And yet, Sentinel did not feel the enlightenment he always thought he would. He did not feel any joy or happiness or fulfillment in his new position. He just felt bitter and tired and achy. He sometimes wondered if Optimus’ spark had corrupted him, dulled his needs and wants, leaving him a bitter empty shell. In moments like those he would have to resist the urge to have a complete fit of hate so, instead, he would merely head off for a little reminder as to why he wanted to be Magnus.
He needed a reminder as to why it was right for him to be Magnus instead of jumping off the highest building in the city.
Sentinel’s head twitched at the dark thought and he quickly looked around the hall to make sure no one had seen his tick. There was a medic down the way, but he seemed busy talking to a young femme. He quickly sighed in relief and turned his attention back to the path he had set for himself. He knew that he should tell a medic or Jazz or even the twins about his self destructive thoughts, but he knew that there would probably lose the title he worked so hard for. Systems existed to keep such thoughts at bay, lines of code even existed to dissuaded dark thoughts … like the want to break open and drink acid pellets.
Sentinel’s optic twitched again and his systems went into a fury, software systems rushing around in his head looking for the origin of the self-destructive thoughts so they could be promptly deleted. Though Sentinel knew the programs would never find the origin and fix it … because it was coming from his spark.
Ignoring another twitch, this thought involving a training accident, Sentinel headed to the only sanctuary he was allowed. The closest thing to a father he had and in his current condition, the only one that would merely listen.
Ultra Magnus.
Nodding to the guard that was always at the old Magnus’ door, Sentinel entered with little issues, stalling for a moment to take in the sight as the door closed behind him. Ultra was as still as ever, his stats flickering as they did every day; Sentinel could not decide if he was happy or not for that. In one hand, he had fulfilled his dream of becoming Magnus and in the other … he wanted someone stronger than him. Someone to chide and protect him, hide him from public view since his form felt so meek and frail since the incident.
For some reason, the glances that he had once imagined to be gratifying now frightened him and he had no idea why.
‘Oh yes you do,’ came a voice.
The young Magnus twitched looking at Ultra for a moment thinking it was the old mech, but then he realized who it really was when he noticed that those old optics were still offline. Sentinel refused to tilt his head the whole way to the left where he knew a yellow blur was sitting.
She was back.
She was as comforting as much as she was frightening at the same time. And as the mega-cycles passed, the more she became a familiar figure: the specter of Elita-1.
“No, I don’t. And can’t you just let me be, Elita? I just want to speak with Ultra today in peace. A moment to clear my thoughts,” he whispered, barely auditable as he sat down next to Ultra Magnus’ berth side, a part of him whispering and praying that if anyone happened to hear him speaking to the specter that they would think he was speaking to Ultra, one of the few mechs in the whole universe that he admired.
‘He will not answer you, but I will.” The wispy voice of the specter continued, “Sentinel … are you truly so afraid of what they might see that you are forced to hide in here with a nearly dead mech, whispering for help? Are you really afraid that they will see what Optimus did to you? How he degraded and raped you?”
Sentinel twitched at her biting words but said nothing in reply as he pretended to be interested in the mech before him.
“Or, tell me this old lover, are you actually afraid of them discovering who and what you are,’ she said, her voice hazy and a bit biting. “A victim.”
“I thought you were supposed to be on my side,” Sentinel finally spat, watching Ultra’s spark beat monitor like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
‘I am … but I’ve never been one to lie to you Sentinel. The people will find out and when they do … they will frown at you, hate you. They will think you weak and no one will want you … except for me that is. And I cannot even comfort you,” came Elita’s ghost like voice, her apparition moving in the edge of his vision.
Swallowing, his hands becoming fists, Sentinel choked, “No one knows. S-soundwave is dead and the evidence is gone.”
There was a moment of silence before Elita replied, ‘Yes, most of it is gone, I’m sure. I’m sure your chamber just sucked Optimus’ nanites up, absorbing them into your shell,” Sentinel shivered at this and instinctively placed a hand on his abdomen. ‘But there is one major detail that was never cleaned up.”
“… And what would that be?” he said, paranoia biting at the back of his mind.
She was silent for a moment, the figment wandering nearer to his back. ‘Optimus Prime. He might not recall now, maybe not even in an orn or perhaps even a vorn … but he might remember one day. He might recall what he has done … and he has always been so noble. He will tell… He must be silenced.’
Her shadowy hand then ghosted over his shoulder, daring to touch Sentinel but never to quite doing so. It was a haunting taunt and he dared not look over his shoulder because he knew, knew, her face was distorted, that some part of her body had to be ripped and shredded and worn by the explosion or time because in the corner of his optic, just in the reaches of the shadows, he could see her hands. And they were always rusting and the longer she stayed by his side, as the mega-cycles dragged on, the more decomposed she started to look.
It was like she wasn’t supposed to be here and the universe knew it. She was becoming a monstrous thing, a huskless sparks wandering about, even if she was merely a memory. Even her mannerisms started to become dark. Almost cruel … and it was then that he understood what she meant.
“I’m not going to kill Optimus,” whispered Sentinel as he turned his head to glare at the specter and yet, predictably, the air was found to be empty behind him. And yet … her whisper continued as a yellow hand was laid on his opposite shoulder though he knew there was nothing there. Not one sensor picked up her touch.
“And I would never ask that of you… but perhaps it is best if you leave him on his own, no backup, as punishment for hurting you. He deserves to suffer!” Elita growled, her voice becoming scratchy and almost frightening before her voice returned to her usual feminine tones. “Just let the Cons punish him, let him defend his dirty little mud hole, Earth. You can pick up the shard pieces later, yourself … and then you will be the hero twice over.”
Despite himself, despite how his breath was shaky and how his spark was clenching or how his abdomen hurt, Sentinel found he could not disagree with the specter’s advice. Even though he knew it was wrong, he allowed her to whispered darker and far more paranoid things into his audio as the time passed. A part of him wanted everyone else to feel the pain he had. Though parts of him that still remained from before that night in the subways and those parts of his mind disagreed heavily, biting and hissing at the top of his spark, telling him that this was an evil specter. This was not his Elita-1! And so, hands shaking, he was about to continue the discussion with the ghost that was lingering around him when suddenly there was a knock on the door.
Sentinel jumped, the specter gone as he turned to the door. “Come in!”
Jazz, opening the door with some caution looked around in confusion, asking, “Visiting Ultra again, SP. I mean SM … but where is visitor number two?”
Sentinel, fear rippling over his chassis could only ask in silent horror. “W-what do you mean?”
“I could have sworn I heard a second voice in here with yah, a femme … Guess I must have rust in my audios or somethin’,” said Jazz as he signaled to the door. “Regardless, you have a meetin’ to get to Magnus.”
“Y-yeah, a meeting,” mumbled Sentinel as he resisted the urge to wrap his arms around himself for a little comfort, Jazz’s words terrifying. Had he been talking to himself or was Elita’s ghost really there? Either way, he had to keep strong. In fact, he had to keep himself as sturdy and hidden as possible so that no one could ever see his weakness. He needed to look strong … even though he was trembling inside.
Jazz, his behavior seeming far more sour than usual, asked softly as they walked, “So … I know you are tryin’ to keep Cybertron safe SM but what about OP on Earth? He has to be hurtin’ for backup. Maybe you could go yourself. I hear rumors of a half organic Con that’s giving OP the runaround. I’m sure he would appreciate the help.”
Sentinel, rage and sorrow and fear mixing together in a nasty cocktail, almost bit out at the other, “And leave Cybertron,” myself, “defenseless! I think not. He can take care of himself.”
He had then stomped away from the closest person to a friend he had and that was probably when the seeds of betrayal had been planted in Jazz’s spark, a few mega-cycles later he even took and left with the Magnus hammer. But such is the case of madness and how it progresses, hurting those around you. But Sentinel did not want to recall a planet called Earth or any of its current residence so he did not chase after Jazz. He just knew he had to keep himself safe from any Decepticons and the safest place was on Cybertron.
He just had to keep himself safe.
He had to keep himself safe.
He had to keep it safe.
And yet, every time he would stall and ask himself what it was, Elita would never answer.
- 7
- 8
- 9
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Baby Bone Lullaby