12th Transmission

[heavyweaponsbot]

I tire of this ship, its crew, and its... holidays. I have no use for these toys. What is the meaning of this?

And is there nowhere I can have a proper spar? Settle for the bees again, if nothing else...

Hmnf.

[The comm clicks off. If anyone is so inclined, the weapons master can be found down in the caves, brooding, and occasionally slamming a fist or two into the walls.

As for his squeaky whale, it has been deposited safely in front of a certain medical officer's door without so much as a word on the subject.]

Comments

[heavyweaponsbot]

[She can hit him if she wants.]

To protect you... We lost... Prime to them... lost the boy. Jazz... They have taken much from us.

Not allowing them to harm you as well.

[It's not the best reasoning, and he knows it. But it's the truth, which she deserves to hear.]

[chopshopgoddess.livejournal.com]

[She kind of wants to, but it'd probably break her wrist.]

You...you're being ridiculous! [She grabs her hair in frustration, ignoring the tears that streaked her cheeks.]

He...he just wants a truce on this boat, that's all. He's not trying to fight with you, or hurt people, or me. You keep forgetting he didn't do any of this! He's not from our world, or your Cybertron.

He's not going to hurt me!

[Unless Megatron shows up and makes him, but she already knows that.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He slowly turns his head to look at her, expression dull. His shoulders hunch in slightly.]

You know I cannot accept a truce... Not with them. He is still Decepticon... With all that entails.

[There's a pause, and an intake of air.]

He already did. Remember?

[chopshopgoddess.livejournal.com]

[Her expression is one of frustration and growing rage.]

What, so you're gonna continue the war on the boat? Probably get people caught or hurt in the crossfire again, like me and Sam did? Is that what you want? You wanna keep fighting?

[She hisses, her face going bright red.]

That's different and you know it. He never lied to me about that, it was never brought up.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He just looks at her, not moving.]

I... will have no truce with them. You... do not understand. Fighting is my function--war is my function. You know how long we have fought... why do you ask me to cooperate with them? To hold a truce with them?

[And he looks away again.]

He still hurt you.

[chopshopgoddess.livejournal.com]

So what were you gonna do when you won the war, huh? Go find someone else to kill? [She drops her hair and crosses her arms.]

I ask you to cooperate because continuing your war with the wrong Decepticons on a boat that has no place for something like that really pisses me off.

[She growls.]

So have you.

[heavyweaponsbot]

... I do not see myself surviving the conflict. [He's so... blunt and straightforward about this. It's simple fact.]

[A shrug.] I... cannot do that.

[and a long... long pause.]

Apologies.

[chopshopgoddess.livejournal.com]

...That's ridiculous. Ratchet would kick your ass if something happened to you. So would I.

Why? Just because you're so stuck in your ways? What happens if people do get stuck in the middle of it again, huh? What happens if someone dies?

[She doesn't even look at him when he apologies, or acknowledge he even said it.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[The twitch again. He's not even going to acknowledge the medic.] You... would likely not have a choice. Soldiers die. Older models faster. No shame in it. I have accepted it.

No one will. [There's bedrock surety in his voice.] This is between us. No innocents.

[chopshopgoddess.livejournal.com]

You're not gonna die. [She grumps.]

No, no it's not, because he has nothing against you, except you being a dick every chance you get. I can't take it anymore, Ironhide, really. I can't. Everytime I see it, it hurts.

[She actually laughs.]

Yeah, tell that to everyone in Mission City. Or maybe even SAm. HE almost died too. Oh, and you know. Me.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[Stubborn - his chest should have healed up a little more than it has, he's getting stiffer, slower... not to mention the hip. All signs point to old age.] I doubt I will live to see the end of this conflict.

...

[He goes quiet. And very... very still.]

You think we don't regret what happened that day...? There were not only human casualties... Don't... talk about it.

[Oh shi--speech contractions!]

[chopshopgoddess.livejournal.com]

[She sets her jaw and tilts her head sharply.]

You think I don't realize that? That you had your casualties of war, too? [She snaps.]

I'm done talking to you. Leave me out of your fights, and leave me alone.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He says... absolutely nothing. There's a lot he should say. And more he wants to. But he... doesn't. His shoulders tighten, and he shutters his optics.]

...

[A nod.]

...

I'm sorry.

[chopshopgoddess.livejournal.com]

[She regards him tightly, her face composed in an expression of hurt, anger, and frustration. She can't take this. Can't deal with it. Before she bursts into tears, she whirls around and takes off running. She doesn't even know where she's going. Just not...here.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[How can she expect him to declare a truce with them? They betrayed him, they murdered Prime, they started a war that destroyed everything. She can't possibly expect him to cooperate, to so much as bend in front of them. It doesn't matter they aren't from his world. They bear the same symbol, and follow the same leader. He just can't. And she won't understand.

As soon as she's gone, he moves. He whirls on the nearby wall, and rams his fist into it. Repeatedly. Until his hand starts to dent and contort from impact.

Everything was so much simpler before this boat.]