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CHARACTERS: Drift and YOU
LOCATION: Simulation Room + Closed Starters
DATE: Mid-Late September, Post Wish Full
CONTENT: Drift finds a familiar simulation program
WARNINGS: possible discussions of terminal illness and substance abuse TBD ~~MA! the robots are fucking again!~~

A FRIENDLY REMINDER

[ Drift had not stuck around for what passed for a debriefing, leaving before Dengar had even gotten a word in edgewise. The situation was Yzak had been an unfortunate advantage to slipping under the radar. For two days, it was decidedly easy for someone nine feet tall and made of metal to fade into the background. Then, he started popping up in sudden bursts. Once or twice, at some odd hour, he would poke his head into the infirmary or go knocking on a seemingly random door only to say nothing and walk away without saying much — a melancholic jumpscare, where instead of "boo" the monster merely shakes his head and leaves.

Later into his self-imposed and unexplained isolation, things had taken a turn almost into normalcy when a group text went out:

Driving lessons at 0900 in the Sim Room Sword and closed-quarters practice at 1300 in the Training Room By appointment with thirty minutes advance notice at the latest

Absolutely nothing. Drift had reconnected with the rest of the crew in so many words and with as much affection as a timed reminder for a phone app. At the very least, notifications and replies look as though they're being read now. ]

A CITY WITH NO PEOPLE

[ The doors of the simulation room open with a whisper of hydraulics sliding open like a soft, unintrusive announcement. Bursting into view with quiet brilliance is an endless horizon with a view from the peaks of an alien world. You enter onto the balcony of a polished white steel building with a view falling down into the perfectly recreated, dizzying heights of a sprawling city. Above is a night sky streaked with a nebula's pale, milky spill and thousands of stars painted around and through its cascade. Flicking lights shine like fireflies on the roads coiling up and around the buildings that grow ever higher towards a massive focal point — a spire that, even at night, illuminates everything surrounding it. All of it was a facade of life, the illusion only broken up by the vacuous silence where the sounds of the rush of traffic or even the stray snatch of conversation or laughter carried up by the wind should have been.

Drift stands at the edge as an almost unobtrusive silhouette against the skyline. He could have easily been mistaken for a statue if one of his finials hadn't slightly flicked in the direction where he heard someone sidle up beside him. Eyes that glowed a cold and pale blue against the dark color of his face stared out over the balcony. Even without pupils, it was clear he hadn't offered so much as a glance in the direction of whoever decided to join him. ]

It's something else, isn't it? [ A neutral response to an otherwise incredible view. Drift hadn't moved an inch, and his tone of voice was quiet, almost like someone who had just woken up from a very long nap and was only speaking on reflex. ] This simulation was made by...[ Imperceptible movement — a slight bow of his head. ] by someone else. The capital city wouldn't have been my first choice, and it's not how I remember it.

See that? [ Drift pointed to the tower, voice perking up slightly but still holding the stupor of a lecturer who had repeated himself once too often to care. ] The Primal Basilica, or at least I think it is. Xrisora reminded me a little of this place, thought I'd see how deep the mirage went. [ Drift nodded as if confirming something to himself ] They did a pretty thorough job.

Quiet, though. [ Finally, he turns his head two degrees to catch you in his peripheral. ] I can leave if you need the room.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Rodimus was sulking, and Drift knew it before he heard him sighing or saw the spoilers at his back droop slightly. — A Rodimus who didn't speak in run-on sentences or at a volume that could clear a room was a Rodimus who was emotionally rattled in one way or another. ]

Yep. [ Drift deadpanned with a slight pop on the last consonant as he clucked his tongue. Unsure of what his response should be now, with everything else, Drift was running on autopilot. ]

...were they always...? Into one another?

[ He asks, as if he doesn't know. Or maybe he chose not to see it because then he could pretend he didn't have to care about it. Not that he'd had a shot or tried it before. ]

Because that seems strange to me. What's the appeal there? Why them of all mechs? Is that just me? Maybe it's just me - but it can't be, right?

[ He has a jumble of thoughts and none of it is coming out in any kind of coherent manner. ]

Yeah, I think. Maybe?

[ Drift sighed, expelling the coil tightening in his chest. He wanted to say: Do you remember how Minimus took Megatron's supposed betrayal? Of course, he hadn't because he knew Rodimus most definitely did not notice that. Why would he? Humans called it 'heartbreak,' and you don't tend to notice it in others when experiencing it yourself.

Not even deep down, Drift hated Megatron a little more now for trivializing what he had done to these two and the extent of their feelings. ]

Are you asking me what Minimus sees in Megatron, or are you asking me the same question the other way around?

I guess?

[ No, not really. It's less of "what do they see in each other" and more of "why doesn't Megatron see that in me" but in a very terrible roundabout way. Because Rodimus is terrible at talking about his actual emotions. Or possibly articulating them to himself, even. ]

I just - I don't know. I thought-

[ What? That he'd be able to somehow get Megatron to look at him? That he'd pick up right where they'd left off?

Honestly, probably. It's Rodimus. ]

It's weird.

[ The lines between what Rodimus was saying and what he actually felt were deep and cavernous. Drift didn't need it spelled out for him, but he still wished against logic and experience that, for once, Rodimus could be honest with him, or at least himself. ]

Minimus moved in first, I suppose. [ A mild response that didn't openly acknowledge why Rodimus was so miserable about the issue but left it open enough. ]

Minimus did?

[ He doesn't quite believe it, but here he is. Talking about it with Drift. And like always, his feelings eat up the room. It takes up space. Rodimus cares about people, he really does - but he has a tendency to get lost in the weeds of his own emotions and wants. ]

...I don't know. It just seems off to me. I guess I'm happy for them.

[ He doesn't sound at all happy. ]

Well, when unstoppable awkwardness meets immoveable self-denigration, something has to give, right? [ It was the conversational wrong wire cut in an attempt to defuse the tense atmosphere, and Drift knew it.

Sighing, he finally tore his gaze from the silent city and looked at his amica. ]

You're a terrible liar, you know.

...what would I have to lie about?

[ Way too defensive, Drift. He bristles for a moment, as if he's trying to shove it off. As if he's trying to somehow bluster his way through this conversation. ]

I haven't said anything about myself! [ Wait, he just did. ]

Rodimus...

[ Drift levels his name with a tone that is as conciliatory as it was a reprimand. ]

[ He's caught and he knows he's caught and he's been caught since he set foot in the sim room. ]

What do you want me to say, Drift?

[ He sounds... angry. Not at Drift, but it's Rodimus. He lashes out. ]

Minimus got to Megatron. Congratulations! I only came here to try and undo his whole imprisonment!

[ In the echo of the room, Rodimus's words carry and whip back around with a raised pitch that rings in Drift's audials for a moment after. ]

You did, [ He agrees, remaining calm and nodding along with Rodimus as if the other was only stating an objective fact. ] and you are.

I almost promised you that I wouldn't tell him because you rightly thought he would try to stop you. Did you tell him? Anything?

...no.

[ Rodimus admits. ]

I didn't find time.

[ Or he didn't work up the courage. It's hard to be vulnerable. ]

[ That simple answer could have nearly choked Rodimus on the pride he needed to swallow to admit as much, to even hint at how deep the hurt went. ]

Roddy... [ Drift could have said something, he could have said a lot. Instead, he reached over and gripped his amica's hand until their fingers were tightly woven together. ]

[ Rodimus isn't sure he wants that comfort. A part of him just wants to sulk and be angry at how unfair the universe is being to him. He stiffens and then he grips tightly. ]

...I wasn't audacious enough. Weird, huh? Came all the way out to this place and I'm not even going to get what I want in the end.

None of it is your fault, [ Drift put a certain stress on those words, in part because he could pick up on how tense Rodimus became when he took his hand. ] You can still —

[ Going quiet, Drift's face pulls into a look of uncertainty and some discomfort. What should he tell Rodimus? Yeah, buddy, push forward and try to win the spark of a disgraced former warlord you're chasing across the universe back from a friend with the self-esteem of a particularly shy rock. That would be fine with no repercussions. ]

I don't know.

I just...

[ He can't put it into words. Not without baring his spark. His shoulders tense and then drop. He knows he shouldn't get involved and make it worse for Megatron and Minimus. It wouldn't be fair, as much as he wants to scream and turn the table over. He slowly slumps into Drift's side, taking a bit of comfort from his closeness. ]

...I thought I could fix it.

[ On reflex, Drift adjusts to let Rodimus sink beside him and fall against him like a missing piece clicking back into place. Resting his head against his amica's, he could almost dim his optics and pretend this was nice.

Only Drift couldn't pretend this didn't hurt, their bond may have weakened over the years, but right now, it was pulled taut to a sharp point of anguish that tore at him. The helplessness he felt in this impossible situation of wanting to have the right answer that simply did not exist. What could he do? Sabotage their friend so his amica could be happy with someone who didn't deserve him? Drift could be cruel, even when he denied that parts of himself were still Deadlock, but he couldn't do that to Minimus. The brief joy that would win Rodimus would inevitably be smothered by guilt and resentment at Drift and himself. ]

You need to talk to him. He's not worth being in this much pain, and he wouldn't want you to be like this, either. You know that.

...and tell him what? I regret you had to go to prison because I wanted you to myself?

[ He sounds bitter. And it's probably the most self reflective he's ever been. ]

Frag up what he and Minimus have? I missed my shot. Fine. That's the story of my life the last couple centuries.

[ OK, now he's just wallowing in self-pity. ]

The truth.

[ Drift had tried to keep the urgency out of his voice but failed when he felt his tongue pressing tongue on the last word like a stone. Then he disengaged and carefully removed himself from Rodimus and the tower's edge. Walking a few paces away until he could stop and, for a few turns of his spark, just hear the simulated wind howling up the tall ivory walls of a dead city. ]

We're all carrying so much guilt and regret that I want to see at least one of us come out of this for the better.

[ Rodimus can't vocalize what he thinks about that. He's going to be alone again, stuck in a backwater, trying to figure out what he has left in his stupid life, running stupid errands, with nothing to show for a million cycles of fighting and dying and... everything falling into humdrum banal nothing. His optics flicker. ]

...you make it sound easy.

[ It hurts. He follows after Drift. ]

Feels like I'm always going to be second-best. [ First time he's ever said that. But Drift is probably the only person he could say that to. ]

Easy?

[ Drift had his back turned a moment ago, but in that instant, he had whipped his head around and looked at Rodimus with a shattered look on his face. His utterance wasn't angry but breathy with the shock someone has after being slapped across the face. It was as abrupt and momentary as a slammed door, but Drift lapsed in his concern for Rodimus to be staggered by the idea that anything about what he felt was easy. ]

[ There's something in Drift's tone that catches Rodimus' attention. ]

Just - saying it like that. I mean-

[ He rubs at his face. ]

How do you just say stuff like that to someone?

[ There was no satisfaction in seeing Rodimus being caught even more off-kilter, only a growing worry that drummed up inside Drift to a deafening level. ]

Because if you don't, all you'll be left with is yourself and asking what could have been. And I can't do that again, Rodimus. Don't ask me to watch you just flicker out.

[ Rodimus doesn't quite shrink. His shoulders drop and his arials droop. ]

This is different, here. I'm not - I'm not just an errand boy, you know? There's... real meaning here. Saving he universe again.

[ He tries to smile. ]

It'll be - yeah. Yeah.

That's not what Thunderclash or anyone else thinks of you, but [ Drift shakes his head, not wanting to stir the pot by bringing up the Greatest Autobot Of All Time™ and whatever torch he might still be carrying.

And then, something churns inside him — an old hurt, a hurt he had kept smothered and quiet for both their sakes. Before Drift can even register it and stop himself, he slips with a resigned: ] Well, you've actually showed up when we needed you. That's something.

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