[TF] Trial By Fire 11

[dracoqueen22]

Chapter Rating: K+
Description: Starscream finally admits, in a roundabout way, that he misses Rodimus. Meanwhile, Rodimus comes to a decision and learns how to say goodbye.

Trial by Fire - Chapter Eleven

The sound of muffled cursing and dull thumping announced to Starscream that he was no longer alone. He debated with himself how he wanted to handle the intrusion before he decided it would be welcome.

That was when Deadlock’s head popped into view, gold optics narrowed at first in confusion and then in relief. “There you are,” he said as he climbed up onto the roof through the skylight, just as Starscream had done. “Should’ve known you’d be up here.”

“Am I that predictable?” Starscream asked as Deadlock settled next to him, their hips and thigh touching as their legs dangled over the edge, into the open expanse of the tower below them.

“Only to someone who knows you as well as I do.” Deadlock grinned, his fangs glinting in the starlight. “Where’s Saunter?”

Starscream lifted his hands, revealing the drone resting in his lap, not recharging but hibernating. “His glitch isn’t active while the skylight’s open. Silly thing.” He stroked his fingers over the top of Saunter’s frame.

“He’s not the only silly thing.” Deadlock’s voice was rich with humor. He bumped shoulders with Starscream. “What’re you thinking about?”

Starscream’s gaze turned skyward, to the constellations he could pick out, and the far horizon, coincidentally the direction he assumed Rodimus’ clan to be. “You know me so well. You tell me.”

“I don’t think you want me to, Starling.”

He nibbled on the inside of his cheek. “I just needed a break,” Starscream murmured. “I wasn’t making any progress on my work.”

“Too distracted?”

“I’m used to you.” Starscream flicked his wings. “You don’t count as a distraction anymore.”

“So it’s internal thoughts then.” Deadlock nudged his left foot against Starscream’s right. “Wouldn’t happen to be a flame-painted Firebrand now would it?”

Starscream vented a sigh.

“That’s what I thought.” Deadlock rested a hand on Starscream’s thigh, less sly and arousing, and more comforting. “I know he got under your plating.”

“I’m choosing not to acknowledge that,” Starscream replied. He stroked his fingers over Saunter’s frame again, though the drone continued to snooze. Above him, stars flickered and faded, grew brighter and dimmed. In front, the horizon was shadows and dark patches, mountains and flatlands.

Maybe he should go for a flight.

But later.

Deadlock made a noncommittal noise.

“I’m tired,” Starscream murmured on the end of a sigh. He tilted over, letting his head rest on Deadlock’s shoulder. Sometimes, one had to move on. He knew this better than most.

His relationship with Blurr had been a sparkbreaking teacher. Sometimes, you could love someone with all you had, and have them return that love, but still have to separate. Sometimes, you had to make a choice, and love wasn’t enough.

Deadlock’s head leaned against his. “I was thinking I’ll stay longer this time,” he murmured, his tone careful and measured.

Starscream chose not to respond. From anyone else, he would have taken that as pity. Even now, he wasn’t sure it wasn’t.

“It’s getting pretty lonely out there,” Deadlock added as his field nudged against Starscream’s, warm and syrupy. “So you know, maybe it’s good to stick around in one place every once in awhile.”

Starscream offlined his optics. His hand stilled on Saunter’s top panel. “You’ll still leave.”

“Maybe. But not so quickly at least.”

It wasn’t pity. It had to be something else, that both of them didn’t dare name because that was precious and fragile and had to be guarded. Kalis had taught them as much.

Starscream cycled a vent. “Stay as long as you like.”

Deadlock pressed a kiss to the top of his head. It said enough, even without words.

~

“So you’re going to leave without a word.”

Rodimus’ shoulders hunched. He stared guiltily into the trunk under his berth as he dug through it, pulling out various items to stuff into an increasingly heavy travel pack. He didn’t look up at the voice, though he knew the large shadow blocking the doorway belonged to his batch-brother.

“I didn’t know what to say,” Rodimus murmured and pulled out the stack of datapads so carefully hidden, shoving them into his pack as well. He didn’t leave much behind.

Training weapons he didn’t need anymore. A few extra travel kits that would need to be restocked. Polishing kits. A couple of tarps too-small. Blankets for his berth. The next youngling to have this room and this berth could use all of it. This wouldn’t have been Rodimus’ room forever after all.

Even if Starscream turned him down, even if there was nothing left for him in that tower, Rodimus didn’t intend to return to his clan. Not immediately at least.

There was a whole world out there. Surely he could find his future somewhere. Surely.

“That’s not an excuse.” Springer’s tone was both sharp and hurt. “Did you think I wouldn’t care if you vanished?”

Rodimus sighed and braced his hands on the edge of the trunk. He looked at Springer, who blocked the door so completely, arms folded over his massive chassis. “You’re a warrior now. You don’t have to worry about me anymore. You have better things to do. I’d just get in the way.”

“That’s not an answer!” Springer hissed, his face darkening with emotion, his field a thundercloud Rodimus couldn’t interpret.

Rodimus worked his intake and slammed the trunk shut. He rose to his feet, nudging it back under the berth with his knee. “I was going to leave a note this time,” he said quietly.

“A note,” Springer repeated, and he couldn’t have sounded so disgusted if he tried. “Yes, that makes everything better. A fragging note.”

Rodimus picked up his travel pack, giving it a shake. It was heavy, but nothing he couldn’t handle. “What would you want me to say? I don’t want you to try talking me out of it.”

“Who said I would?”

Rodimus scoffed and slung the bag over his shoulder, which creaked in protest. “I know you would. You think I can’t do anything right. That I need you to protect me.” He looked at his brother, who he loved dearly, and wondered just when he’d started to resent Springer a little. “You’d want me to stay for my own safety. Because I’m no good on my own. And you’re probably right.”

He moved closer to Springer, his spark racing, and his engine whining as he made himself throttle it down. “But I’m still going. Because I have to do this. There’s nothing for me here right now, so I have to go find what I’m looking for.” He stared pointedly at the fresh brand on Springer’s chestplate. A brand he’d never earn.

Springer looked sad. But he sighed and uncrossed his arms. “I’m not gonna stop you,” he said as he rested his hands on Rodimus’ shoulder, a heavy and familiar weight. “And you know I’ve always thought you were worth more than others said.”

Rodimus squirmed under the praise.

“If you think you need to go, then go. Just be careful, eh? And take care of yourself. You’re my favorite brother.” Springer squeezed again and then pulled him into an embrace, a spinal strut crushing one that forced out Rodimus’ vents and wrapped him in suffocating heat.

It was wonderful.

Tension seeped out of his frame. “I’m your only brother,” Rodimus grumbled, a common joke between them. He patted Springer awkwardly on the back. “Will you do me a favor then?”

“What?” Springer’s tone took on that of suspicion as he let Rodimus go and stepped back, his optics narrowing.

Rodimus turned and rooted around in his pack, pulling out the topmost datapad. “Would you give this to Sunstreaker for me?”

“Oh, frag no.” Springer backed up a step, holding up his hands defensively. “You wanna skip out without telling the Warchief’s mates you’re not going, that’s your choice. But I’m not gonna be the one who hands them the goodbye note.”

Rodimus snorted. “What? Are you scared?”

“No, I’m just not an idiot.” Springer stepped aside, giving Rodimus room to leave, as though making him stay would have the letter forced on him. “I’m not ashamed to admit that either of them could kick my aft with ease.” He grinned with a confidence Rodimus knew all too well. “Though we’ll see what happens in a decade or two.”

Rodimus snorted again and adjusted the strap of the pack on his shoulder. “It doesn’t matter how long has passed. You’ll never be able to take down Sunstreaker.” Or Sideswipe for that matter.

Springer just grinned back at him, eerily similar to the toothy snarl the turbowolves had given him. “We’ll see.” Seriousness replaced his humor. “You’ll come back, won’t you?”

“This is still home,” Rodimus replied, with what he hoped was a dismissive shrug. He didn’t want to end up emotional and second-guessing himself. “And if I fail, well, it’s the only place I can come back to.”

“You won’t. Fail, I mean.” There was something dangerously close to pride in Springer’s tone. “You’re my brother. It’s impossible.”

Rodimus smiled, soft and sincere. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Springer stared at him, and then he suddenly grabbed Rodimus, pulling him into another hug that made his armor creak and his spark throb with affection. “Good luck,” he said, soft and gruff all at once, before he let Rodimus go and spun on a heelstrut, vanishing down the hallway opposite of the direction Rodimus needed to go.

He caught himself smiling as he watched Springer’s back disappear around the corner. It was weird how he felt fully himself for the first time, now that he’d decided to abandon everything he’d been working hard to accomplish.

Rodimus adjusted the pack on his shoulders and started down the corridor. He didn’t have to sneak out. Not truly. There was no rule that said he couldn’t leave if he wanted to. He’d used the cover of night the first time because he suspected someone would stop for him for his own safety. He was, after all, a Firebrand.

He had the feeling now, however, that even if someone did see him leave, no one would say a word. There’d been encouragement in Optimus Prime’s words, and though Rodimus hadn’t spoken with Kup, he had the feeling the old mech would understand. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe already seemed to know what he was thinking. They’d pass it on to the Warchief, and no one would bar Rodimus’ way.

He was sure of it.

Of course, he wasn’t as sneaky as he thought. Because while he’d thought it was better for his spark to leave without seeing the twins, they must have read his processor. They waited for him at the side gate, the usual guards a fair enough distance away to offer an approximation of privacy, while still doing their jobs.

Rodimus sighed. They spotted him before he considered spinning around and heading out the other side of the settlement. He wasn’t a coward, he told himself. And he’d made his choice.

“Thought you could leave without saying goodbye, eh, hot shot?” Sideswipe said as he was the first to intercept Rodimus, literally sweeping him up into a hug that lifted his feet clear from the ground. “Not this time.”

Sideswipe set Rodimus down with a processor-spinning thump before digging in his subspace. “Not to mention I’m not letting you go without a gift.” A sack emerged, which he thrust in Rodimus’ direction. “Treasure it always. It’s not just anyone I’ll give one of my secret recipes.” He winked.

Heat stole into Rodimus’ face. “Thanks, Sides.” He took the sack, tying the extra strings onto a projection on his pack. “And well… it’s complicated.” His gaze slid briefly to Sunstreaker before dropping to the sand. “I chose to leave, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t things I’m going to miss.”

“Things,” Sideswipe echoed and sidled in next to Rodimus, slipping an arm around his waist to lean his head on Rodimus’ shoulder. “Or maybe a couple of hot-aft mechs who keep things interesting, hm?”

Rodimus chuckled. “Yeah. Maybe.” He leaned into Sideswipe, soaking up his friend’s heat, and indulging in the touch of their fields, the playful nudge of Sideswipe’s, and the affection swirled in it. He loved Sideswipe, too. Just not in the same way.

“You’re lucky we know you better than you think we do,” Sunstreaker said, his voice soft, but the words sharp enough to sound like a chastisement. “I’d hate to have to chase you into the desert just to kick your aft.”

Rodimus winced.

Sideswipe clicked his glossa. “Sunny, that’s not the way we show we care.”

“Yes, it is,” Rodimus said with a forced chuckle even as Sunstreaker glared at his brother, who slipped his arm out from Rodimus’ waist and held up his hands.

“Don’t hate the messenger,” Sideswipe said, nudging Rodimus with his elbow. “Besides, hot shot knows better now, doesn’t he?”

Rodimus nodded. “I wrote a note,” he said, fumbling with the datapad in this subspace. “Kind of glad it didn’t come to that now.”

“Some things need to be spoken,” Sunstreaker said, with a surprising acuity few knew him capable.

“And that’s my cue,” Sideswipe said. He grabbed Rodimus’ hand, tangling their fingers together and giving it a squeeze. “Take care of yourself out there, Roddy. You don’t want to break our sparks, okay?”

“I learned from the best, didn’t I?” Rodimus replied.

Sideswipe grinned and pressed a kiss to Rodimus’ cheek, one that lingered as if he put all of his affection into it. He squeezed Rodimus’ hand again. “Got your back, hot shot,” he said, and then he pulled away, taking the swirling warmth of his field with him. “We’ll keep a berth for you.”

Sideswipe winked, tossed his brother a knowing look, and then he strode away, a whistle on his lips, nonchalance in the set of his shoulders. Rodimus watched him go, spark simultaneously fluttering and squeezing.

What came next was one of the hardest things Rodimus ever had to do.

He looked at Sunstreaker and prepared himself to say goodbye, while his spark felt too big for its casing. He fidgeted, knowing he should speak, but too many words crowding on his glossa. He wished he had managed to escape and leave the datapad, with the carefully crafted note behind.

He swallowed over a lump in his intake. “Sunny…” Words failed him. He wished he could just shove the datapad into Sunstreaker’s hand and flee into the night.

“I’m glad,” Sunstreaker closed the distance between them, his hands gently cupping the curve of Rodimus’ intake and jaw. “I am glad that you found someone worth risking your spark.”

It’s too hard to look into his optics. So Rodimus didn’t, instead dropping his gaze as he cycled a ventilation. “I think I’ve lost count of the times I’d wondered what would have happened if things were different.”

He didn’t elaborate on ‘things’. Sunstreaker already knew. It was this unspoken secret, this unacknowledged thing between them, growing heavier and heavier with each passing season, until it became too large for words and too hard to declare.

“There is no different.” Sunstreaker’s voice was quiet. “Things happened the way they were meant to.”

Somehow, Rodimus always knew that.

“That doesn’t make it any less valid or valuable though,” Sunstreaker added, his thumbs sweeping a soft pattern over the curve of Rodimus’ cheek. “I do love you, Rodimus. Just...”

“Not the way that makes you mine,” Rodimus finished for him, and managed a smile, despite it cracking around the edges. “I know. And it’s okay. As it turns out, I seem to have a thing for mercurial Seekers anyway.”

Sunstreaker chuckled and pulled their heads together, pressing his forehead to Rodimus’. “I’ll want to meet him someday, you know. Just to be sure he’s good enough for you.”

“If I can convince him to keep me, I’ll make it happen.”

“You will.” Sunstreaker’s optics shuttered, and he cycled a ventilation. “If this Seeker has any sense, he’ll know better than to let you go.”

The lump in Rodimus’ intake grew larger. “Yeah, I hope so.”

Sunstreaker huffed a laugh and pulled back, unshuttering his optics. “You’ll come back to visit.” It wasn’t a question.

“Of course.” Rodimus smiled, easier this time, less broken around the edges, and smoother, like reforged transsteel.

Sunstreaker’s fingers slipped away, though the warmth of their touch lingered. “I have something for you,” he said, before he dug around in his subspace and produced a bag not unlike the one Sideswipe had offered. “So you don’t forget me.”

“As if I ever could.” Rodimus accepted the bag, and coughed his ventilations as heat colored his face. “And uh, this is for you.” He offered up the datapad. It did have a note especially for the twins on it, but it was also a collection of the romantic tales Rodimus knew Sunstreaker didn’t have in his collection.

“Keep it hidden from Sides,” Rodimus added with a little laugh as Sunstreaker tucked the datapad into his subspace. “You know how he likes to tease.” As if Sideswipe wasn’t any less guilty given those terrible detective novels he consumed like cheap engex.

“I do.” Sunstreaker’s lips pulled into a soft smile, one that few had been treated to seeing. “Good luck, Rodimus. Not that I think you’ll need it. You’re an easy mech to love.”

Rodimus’ spark throbbed so hard he felt the crystal structure tremble. Words, again, were unhelpful, traitorous things. So he threw himself at Sunstreaker, into the gold mech’s arms, and felt himself wrapped in a tight embrace. He thought Sunstreaker was shaking, but maybe he imagined it.

“You better go,” Sunstreaker said. “Or I might ask you to stay.”

Rodimus forced himself to pull back, and was glad he did, because he caught something in Sunstreaker’s expression. Something he couldn’t define, that shaded his best friend’s optics a darker hue and filled his field with determination. Then Sunstreaker leaned in and Rodimus didn’t evade, giving in to the brief brush of their lips together.

It barely counted as a kiss.

It was definitely a goodbye.

Sunstreaker retreated, sooner than Rodimus would have liked, but not soon enough for the ache in his spark. Sometimes, it was harder to let something go that hadn’t definitively ended. Or perhaps because it had.

“Be safe,” Sunstreaker murmured.

“Be happy,” Rodimus countered, and didn’t even have to look behind him or over his shoulder to know that Sideswipe and Megatron hovered just inside the entrance of the settlement, watching. Not with jealousy but concern.

They’d take care of things on this end.

Now it was up to Rodimus to take care of himself.

“Ask me something hard,” Sunstreaker said.

Rodimus grinned. He tucked Sunstreaker’s gift into his subspace, to go through it later, and made himself dash through the open gate, before his spark made him linger. Before his determination faltered and he second-guessed his choices.

The easier choice was to stay in the settlement, to grapple with his failures, his unrequited love, and settle for whatever was left. He could bury his hopes, his dreams, and be satisfied with whatever lot life would give him.

Or he could take this chance. He could plunge back into the Barrens, find Starscream’s tower, and see if the Seeker would let him stay. See if there was a future with Starscream, one full of adventure and curiosities and challenge.

Rodimus had never been one to take the easy way out. He certainly wasn’t going to start now.

So into the Barrens he descended.

He didn’t know what his future was going to hold, and for once, that uncertainty didn’t frighten the Pit out of him.

If anything, it set him free.

****

a/n: Bittersweet goodbyes.

Coming up next! The Reunion!

Comments

[fhc_lynn]

So, Deadlock is going to get the chance to beat on Rodimus? Oops? XD Again, I adore how well you express the dynamics in their relationships. Love really isn't always enough, or the 'right thing', but it makes it no less real or important.

[dracoqueen22]

Mwa ha. Deadlock might have SOME restraint. ;)

Thank you so much! I really had a grand old time exploring the different kinds of love in this fic so I greatly appreciate you commenting on that, because it's kind of one of the themes. <3