Saviour [Transformers, Starscream/Red Alert]

[yami-samuraiflo.livejournal.com]

Title: Saviour
Author: yami_samuraiflo 
Rating: T
Warnings: Implied suicide attempts; slight spoilers for 'Auto Berserk'
Word Count: 1064
Summary: "Must I consider myself as your saviour, then?"
Prompt: Transformers, Starscream/Red Alert: Used and Abused - "Sparkling angel, I believed You were my saviour in my time of need."
A/N: English isn't my first language, so there are probably mistakes and awkward phrases. Sorry.

.

All began with a question, in a dark night, where two silhouettes can barely be distinguished in the darkness.

 

“What is it like?”

 

Confusion. “What?”

 

A question clarified. “What is it like to be liked and to feel useful?”

 

An hesitation. “I... don’t know.”

 

A frown. “Come on; you must know. You’re an Autobot, for Primus’ sake! You pathetic, pitiful weaklings –“

 

A protest. “We’re not weaklings!”

 

“ – are always hanging around each others, laughing and congratulating each other for a job well done. You expect me to believe you don’t know what it feel like to be... loved? Not even by that fire truck who seem to be glued to you?”

 

A snort. “Glued. Right. We’re so glued together he didn’t hesitate once before leaving me alone to fend for myself before joining the battle. Why do you think I... lost my mind with the ‘Negavator incident’?”

 

A head tilted. “So... you don’t like him?”

 

A shrug. “I never said that. It’s not about loving or hating, it’s about caring. He doesn’t care for me. Not that much. He cares more about battles. They all do. Me? I’m just the funny mech who is too paranoid for his own good and more stuck to regulations than the SIC. I’m the one who watches out for everything, anything out of the ordinary. I’m the one who always worries something will go wrong and we’ll end up being killed because we weren’t careful enough!” he was getting more and more upset by the second.

 

A hand was put on his shoulder, squeezing. “Calm down; you’re going to blow a servo.”

 

And anger let his place to sorrow. “Do you know how it feels to see that no one acknowledge your efforts? That no one takes you seriously, even when you have a point, just because they don’t trust your abilities, basing themselves on your personality?”

 

Two red optics blinked. “... You are preaching to the choir, or did you forgot for a moment who you were talking with?”

 

A stare. “...Oh. Right. Sorry.” A sheepish smile.

 

A small chuckle. “Don’t be; I’m no better than you when it comes to ranting.”

 

A silence. Both mechs keep glancing at each other. Finally, the smaller brings his knees against his chest and starts speaking again.

 

“Sometimes, I wonder why we even bother with them; they don’t care about us. They even forgot how much we did for them. Nowadays, they just think we never did anything to earn our positions.”

 

An optic ridge is raised. “Our?”

 

A quick glance, a neutral tune. “You prefer I use only my own experience? I had the feeling you suffered the same things...”

 

A shrug. “Depends. Did any of the youngest cadets ever whispered among themselves that you got your position by sleeping with your leader?”

 

A loud laugh. “Prime wouldn’t consider touching anyone but his precious Elita, so no. Comments about bribes or charity cases aren’t so rare however,” he said, bitter.

 

Once again, a frown. “Bribes?”

 

A pointed look. “I won’t give you more information, so don’t get your hopes too high.”

 

“Not fair.” The Autobot almost smiles when he sees the Seeker pout.

 

“Everyone has a right to keep his secrets. I don’t ask what gave them the idea you were whoring yourself to Megatron.”

 

A second of intense thinking. “Ok, so fair enough.”

 

“Do they really think their Second in command is nothing more than a joke? Have they never consulted the archives? Never saw you on the field?” Genuine curiosity.

 

A dark chuckle. “They see, they hear, they don’t believe. Mechs are like that. Who could say that once, I was a role model for most of them? The perfect Decepticon warrior they wanted to become? Now, even most of the troops I have personally formed don’t think much of me outside of ‘back stabbing slagger who can’t shut off his vocalizer’ and ‘Megatron’s personnal bitch’. How the mighty has fallen...”

 

A understanding nod. “Same problem here; all the mechs and femmes I took as students just think of me as the ‘crazy nut job who’s out to prove that you’re a Decepticon spy’. You would think they remember how many actual spies I’ve discovered and how many lives I saved by being what I am.”

 

Still more chuckling. “Can you feel the irony here? Once of great use to our respective causes, now we are nothing but a laughing stock...”

 

Another nod. “I know. Why do you think I still hang up with you despite... everything?”

 

A new silence. They shifted position; where they were previously on their backs, recuperating from post-overload bliss and watching the black sky, they have now turned toward each others, watching each other face.

 

A voice weak, so weak it’s almost and unheard whisper. “Sometimes... Just sometimes... I keep glancing at my gun or at my security devices, wondering how hard it would be to just shoot myself in the fuel pump or deliberately walk straight in my own traps, just to end the charade.”

 

A startled expression. The winged’s figure rises on an elbow. “You’re serious? You actually thought about...?”

 

A sad nod. “You can’t believe how much. Somewhere, I think it could be a great ‘wake up call’ for most of them. Perhaps if someone actually died, they would take my job seriously. Most of them don’t even think twice what the job of Security Director is all about.”

 

A frown. “Question: if you wanted everything to end... Why did you never pull the trigger?”

 

Silence, then quiet answer. “... Lets just say it helped to find someone who even remotely understands what is it like to feel used by people who couldn’t care more about you than for their last energon cube. And yourself? How did you do to never consider ending your suffering?”

 

A dismissing gesture. “Oh, some people would argue about that; some of the things I did for riling up Megatron explained vorns of suicidal tendencies. But mark my words, I will not die before he does, one way or another.”

 

“Hum.”

 

A silence. An amused question. “So, you didn’t end the game because of me... Must I consider myself as your saviour, then?”

 

Red Alert snorts. “You’re not my saviour, you’re my damnation. But better be damned and suffer with you than suffer in Purgatory for eternity.”

 

Starscream smiles wickedly. “Oh so true...”