OPEN |

[aurable]

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.

Comments

MEGATRON

[aurable]

[ Drift had considered leaving the matter to rest and handle itself over time, but he knew better. The only reason he had been actively avoiding this entire affair was that he was afraid. Not only for how uncomfortable this was inevitably going to be for all involved but also for the fact that he already knew exactly how this would end. What he needed to do was painful, doomed to go nowhere and only make things worse, and unfortunately, completely necessary.

Finding Megatron in the med bay alone was to be expected. Right now, he was the only attending physician on the station and undoubtedly busy, but he had come at a time they were without the company of prying eyes and anyone's curiosity. Announcing himself with a knock, Drift says the words no one wants to hear: ]

We need to talk.

Re: MEGATRON

[flickerandfade]

[ Megatron raises an eyebrow as he looks up from one of the charts. Leonard had left everything in good order, but Megatron still fretted--even if he could memorize every part of the human body, he wasn't used to treating it's injuries, wasn't familiar with stress tolerances... the whole thing made him feel vaguely ill, if he was honest. Not that he'd admit he was that nervous to anyone except perhaps Minimus. ]

We do? About what?

[aurable]

[ This wasn't a good time, Megatron needed to ready himself for the possibility of a larger human patient caseload. Only, there was no good time. If Drift were human, this is the part where he would sigh heavily and debate falling into the nearest chair. Instead, his shoulders hike up a little as he braces himself. ]

Alright, I'm going to start by saying I know this isn't your fault, and the entire situation is out of your control and what I'm about to say is in confidence as a concerned amica. [ Drift pauses, possibly to let the gravity of that admission sink in — or to hype himself up to continue. ]

I don't know what to do about Rodimus. [ And once that comes out, the rust follows. Tumbling out with the nervous energy and desperation that had been snowballing inside of him, ] He's practically haunting the place, dejected and listless all because for, I'm sorry, whatever reason that is beyond my comprehension he loves you.

He loved you when he thought he lost you for good after your trial, and he still loves you now that he's lost you all over again. You're all he's here for, and it's frankly terrifying watching him go to pieces

over you.

[flickerandfade]

Of course.

[ Megatron doesn't like how this is starting already. He stills as Drift starts to speak to him, his attention fully focusing on Drift. It's only polite to pay the mech his full attention, since he's saying this is important, after all. He waits, quiet, and listens. Listens and grows slightly mortified as it's laid out for him. Part of him wants Drift to be wrong. It's not possible.

It's hideous. ]

I'm not worth any of that. If he would talk to me I'd tell him as much but he's been avoiding me for some reason.

[ Wait. ]

He heard about Minimus and I, didn't he?

[aurable]

[ They're both staring stolidly back at one another, and for that, Drift is grateful. He couldn't trust himself and what he would have done had Megatron not given him the undivided attention this demanded. ]

No, you're not, [ Drift said that particularly part maybe too quickly and with more brutal honesty than maybe Megatron deserved. ] Only that caring, wonderful idiot's big spark isn't standing room only. There is too much room for grief, and he's been letting it pile up since you left.

Yes, back on Xrisora. It came up when he was talking to Ambus, but all I saw was Rodimus tearing out of there. Minimus said it's been radio silence ever since.

[flickerandfade]

I regret that he's suffering because of this. I regret it very much. He deserves to be able to find some happiness in his life. He's been through enough suffering because of me or what people have done in my name.

[ Drift, you can't possibly be harsher to Megatron than he already is on himself. Don't worry about it. ]

What is it you want me to do about this situation? I assume it's why you came to talk to me about it.

[aurable]

While I appreciate the tired platitudes, I don't need to hear them. [ A heat rose in Drift's words before he could stop himself. ]

Talk to him, because I can't let him down easy on your behalf even if I were inclined to. [ He pulls a face because he can already hear the excuses coming and nips that in the bud before Megatron could get another word in edgewise. ]

And don't feed me the same lines about Rodimus not wanting to talk or you not sure what to say. You owe him that much. Not because I think you're wrong for being with Ambus or because of your history.

I just want you to remember who stood there and humbled themselves in front of Prowl and pleaded on your behalf. He fought for you until the very end, he deserves to know why it was all for nothing.

[flickerandfade]

I forget that you don't like to hear contrition from the ones you castigate, of course. I'll be more mindful in the future not to upset your sensibilities by speaking when you come to ask for my help mending your amica.

[ Megatron retorts with a coolness, almost a disdain that doesn't quite ooze into his words. He is tired, really, of Drift acting as if his words mean nothing, as if what Megatron has done means nothing. Not when he's seen Drift at his worst and knows just what it is that the other keeps chained up inside of him.

They're both contrite in their own way, both locked in a struggle with who they were and who they could become.

And it perhaps digs into Megatron's spark that Drift will not acknowledge the work Megatron has put in, nor his self-imposed self-sacrifice on the altar of Autobot and Galactic Council prosecution. It ought to mean something. ]

I never asked for him to do that.

[ He can't help it. There's an aggravated sense of frustration when Drift tries to lay Rodimus' struggles at Megatron's feet, as if he encouraged this or asked for it in any way. As if Rodimus hadn't been out there for centuries with Drift too moon-eyed over his new-found conjunx to bother trying to reel Rodimus back in and give him the support that he had needed at the start of this whole mess.

Of course, he doesn't say that. ]

I'll speak to him.

[aurable]

I just wish I had more time to trust you again, but we don't — or we didn't. I'm well aware of the hypocrisy, believe me.

[ Speaking of contrite, Drift deflated somewhat at that. He knows there is a novel's worth more going on in Megatron's head. Some of it is likely correct, and most of it is leveled at Drift's own failings.

He finally relents and looks away. ]

I thought he was safe with Thunderclash, I wasn't aware how bad things had gotten until it was too late.

[flickerandfade]

You "wish you had more time."

[ Megatron repeats the words with a slow, unhappy cadence that fills the room. More time. Drift has had nothing but time while Megatron has had precious little of that in the accelerated mess that exploded out of the end of the great war. ]

You've distrusted me far less time than you've hung on my every word in your lifetime, I'll remind you. It was only a spare few millennia ago that you were part of the most trusted circle of Decepticon thinkers. I don't see why you can't change your mind again just as quickly, unless you don't think I'm being genuine?

[ He shouldn't do this now. He knows he shouldn't but one can only take so much moralizing. ]

Of course, I haven't had the luxury of being able to change my frame and my badge in order to blend in and disappear. Perhaps if I had gotten ten thousand years to stab my old comrades, make new Autobot friends, and craft a whole new identity I'd have your understanding.

After all, I only plead my guilt to the faces of the people I wronged. I can understand why you hesitate to trust someone so deceptive as the greatest monster ever spawned by our species.

[ His voice has dropped to scathing acid tones. ]

But then I suppose you were rather too busy with your new lease on life to think about miserable old mechs locked up far, far away from your life. Or amicae on distant starships for that matter.

[ There's a gruff sound, half a scoff and half a cough. ]

I said I would speak to him. I don't need to hear about all the ways you think you failed. I'm well aware of them.

[ He looks back at his datapad. ]

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to be prepared for the next inevitable medical emergency.