WARNING YOU ARE READING A SHAMELESS MARY SUE

^^ I'm tempted to place this over all my chapters. Maybe when i do the fabled Big Edit.

All Is Full of Love by Bjork fits now... Among so many other songs that I've been musing over since I last updated. I've been busy, ya'll! Just not busy enough to stress, screech 'fuggitall!' and write something. I tried to update a few days ago and got error messages. Obviously working now. I've been snowed in the last coupla days, so if this smacks of stir crazy... i don't care., so… here ya go. Sorry it's not OE, I'm just such a Raj fan these days… And apparently a Dirge fan. Whodathunkit.

Watch Caprica. Is gots robots! *sings*

"It be like your spark, pulled apart… Burnin'. Didn't know dey would make Coil do it too. He didn't be wantin' it, he died. Now, I be all alone wit' dese crazy slaggers. It be all your fault, femme."

"I'm sorry, Boomer," I mumbled.

"Pretty place, yeah. Pretty organic tings, learn de new alt mode… But de sparkache, it never goes. It be a part of me like he should be."

"I didn't know," I whispered. "If I had known, I never would have-"

"When dey change youse, I hope it kills youse."

"I do too," I whimpered, starting to cry.

"Hold on, Bravura," a compassionate voice said firmly from overhead.

Gasping, I mentally stiffened, though I couldn't seem to move. I couldn't see anything but Predaca in my mind's eye. Boomer, now much shorter than me, was on top of a scaffold installing a solar panel in the side of a sort of town hall that Divebomb wanted to use to try and bring the mechs together more often. To try and stave off the wild madness they all experienced if they stayed in their alt modes too long.

"I put you in a partial stasis to spare you the optic replacement, but your memory core must've booted. You're watching a memory, Bravura. It's not real. As soon as I finish the connections in your new optic I'll let you activate fully. Are you in pain?"

It was hard for me to believe I was watching a memory, but it became obvious that he was right when I tried to turn and look around but couldn't.

There was no pain from whatever he was doing in my optic, and I told him so. He'd shut down most of my system, I was like a stroke patient. The world was incomplete and nonsensical, I could see but couldn't comprehend. My memories, unbidden and unwelcome, were more real than the blurry things I imagined I could just make out passing over my good optic.

The Boomer in my memory refused to stop working, though he had to be fighting the most horrible feelings of helplessness and loneliness and anger. I felt for Boomer then, and I felt all the guilt of knowing I'd taken his sad life and multiplied the misery exponentially.

"I did horrible things out there," I told Ratchet. In my memory I was talking to Boomer, stuff about Primus and love and what great things he could do now, and it made me sick.

"Like what?" the invisible medic asked me.

"Bounty hunting. They all went to Predaca, and I bet all of them died but Boomer. His brother bond died, and now he has to live in a strange world and a strange body with crazy religious fanatics and his spark will probably never stop looking for Coil."

"You knew what Predaca did to them?"

"No. I had no idea what happened to them after we shot them."

"Then you can't feel guilty. Weren't they all Decepticons? How could you know what you were doing wasn't a good thing?"

"I should have known," I said. "I'm supposed to know things, Ratchet. Dirge told me."

"Dirge did this to you?"

"No, Skywarp did."

Ratchet didn't respond for a while. "I'm going to bring in Rodimus," he said, when I'd almost forgotten we'd been talking.

Boomer was gone now and I was flying, fast and powerful in my F-35. Sunstreaker joined me, golden and beautiful. It was easy to forget what a monster he'd been when my memories told me that he was kind and wise and forgiving. I knew better now.

"The object of art is to give life a shape," the golden flyer said, suddenly wading with me up a slow river. I struggled on the slick rocks, my metal feet finding little purchase, but Sunstreaker seemed to have no trouble.

"What kind of shape?"

"More like what kind of life. Don't you see what your purpose is in the great plan? You can't begin to fulfill that purpose until you upgrade."

"What is my purpose?"

"To help Divebomb perfect our race. To produce a viable technorganic sparkling, to prove to the nonbelievers we aren't a dead end."

"What if we are?"

Water enveloped me when his light slap robbed me of my balance. I pushed myself out of the flow, looking at the tall yellow mech in surprise.

"I'm sorry, I must not question His great plan," I whimpered. "Please forgive my stupidity."

"You are forgiven," Sunstorm said, offering me a hand and helping me up. "When you learn your place in the plan, I will not have to punish you."

"Bravura?" my brother's voice interrupted.

"Hey Hot Rod," I said, still watching the yellow Predacon. He would seem attractive if I didn't already know how insane he was. Had been.

"Skywarp did this to you?"

"Yeah. We had a fight."

"Why? Why would he do this to you?"

"He's a dick," I answered irritably.

"When did you see Dirge?"

"Right before I got in the fight with Skywarp."

"How do you keep finding all of these Seekers, Bravura?"

"Tell you later," I said. My memories had shifted to another world entirely and I was arguing with Skywarp about being left behind, climbing onto the gurney and falling down against the wall. The look of love and pity, the way he came down to help me, made me want to die.

Ratchet let me out in a few hours, once he was sure the damage to my shoulders wouldn't hinder me. They were already healing on their own now that he'd realigned them. Skywarp had really fragged me up just by twisting my wings. My optic gave me some trouble at first, but between the two of us we sorted it out. Hot Rod went back to work when Ratchet started threatening him.

Mirage was waiting outside the repair bay, looking as baleful as I'd ever seen him, but somehow patient at the same time. The threatening expression disappeared when he practically leaped across the hall, hugging me tightly and yet gingerly. He curled one arm under my wings and another over the top of my shoulders and pressed his face to me. He released me quickly, abruptly, as if he was somehow embarrassed.

"Are you alright?"

"Good as new," I said, smiling despite how upset I still was.

"Rodimus said it was Skywarp," Mirage said, a bitter tinge to his carefully modulated voice.

"It was. I went looking for a fight, and I got one."

"He could have killed you!" His hands found mine and squeezed hard. The kind of unconscious strength that could've turned a human into paste was only vaguely uncomfortable to me.

"I'm alive," I reminded the Elite. "Stop worrying."

"What if he tries again?" Mirage demanded.

"He could've killed me, Raj. Instead he left me for dead, but he didn't finish me off."

"And you think that means he would do you the same favor again?"

I frowned. "I don't ever plan on seeing him again, Mirage."

The Elite's animated face froze, then he nodded. "Stands to reason."

"Uh huh." I tugged my hands free of Mirage's, but touched his arm and started to walk. He followed, so I let my hand fall to my side. "Looks like Ratchet helped me out on energon, but I could still use a cube."

"You've got to stop getting yourself into these jams, you know. You needed two infusions before Ratchet could get your lines to close."

"Huh?" I looked sideways at the blue mech. "My lines?"

"They were gushing energon from under your plates. They didn't reseal. From what Ratchet said while I was in there, when you rebuilt your wings it split a few of them laterally. You could've died where you stood."

That would explain why I'd lost focus so quickly. I'd been losing energon the whole time I'd been trying to come home. Maybe the cold or the low gravity had helped.

"When you were in there?" I asked numbly.

"I was the second transfusion. Rodimus was the first."

"He shouldn't have," I grumbled. "He's too busy as it is, he doesn't need to be tired on top of it."

"Thank you, Mirage," the Elite said in a high tone. "You're welcome, Bravura," he responded in his regular speaking voice. "It was my pleasure."

Smiling apologetically, I touched the Elite's hand. "Thank you, Raj."

He smiled wryly at me, his optics bright.

"Oh, look at that," a female voice whispered as we crossed a hall.

Curia and Devcon were standing in the other hall. Devcon was holding Artemis in one arm, though she seemed to be trying to climb up to his shoulder.

I waved at the trio, but a combination of embarrassment and my true need for energon spurred me to keep going. Artemis and Curia waved back, both apparently pleased at the sight of me. I'd have to visit them later.

"I'm surprised you didn't take your hand back," Mirage said softly, his fingers twining through mine after we'd walked a few paces.

"Um," I eloquently muttered.

It sounded like he was smiling when he spoke again. "Have you used your new hologram much?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "It's way better than what I'm used to. I used it to stay with Sam the last few days."

"Really? You figured it out on your own?"

"Hound helped me. He's really nice."

Mirage nodded in the corner of my optic. "He's one of the few mechs who would work with me in the early days. I had so many solo missions just because nobody trusted me, but it never was an issue with him. Sometimes he was the only thing keeping me in the war at all."

"He said good things about you too," I said, looking over at Mirage and smiling.

We entered the rec. hall. It was close to noon, so there were plenty of humans milling around and lining up at one of the counters where someone was doling out food. Mirage followed me to the energon dispenser, so I got him a cube to before finding a table on the fringes of the huge room.

"Can I see what your hologram looks like?" Mirage asked once we sat down.

I already had my cube to my lips, so I nodded slightly while raising a finger to give myself a minute. When it was more than half drained, I put it down, smiling sheepishly at his playfully critical stare.

Throwing my generator on the table, I started up the protocol for the holoform I'd been using the last few days. My vision split and when I felt comfortable in the small body I turned to look up at Mirage.

"She's the female version of Rodimus's hologram," the Elite commented. "Pretty, but I thought you would've wanted to look like your old body."

"Do you really think any human is pretty, Raj?" I asked from her, crossing my soft arms over the stark white t-shirt.

"I've had some time to learn the standards, you know," Mirage huffed. He deposited his own generator on the table and started it up. I found myself looking up at a handsome tanned man with dark hair and the blazing blue eyes everybody, including me, was so fond of. He bent forward, inspecting my holoform before starting to pace around me.

"A white t-shirt and jeans. Come on, you can wear anything you want and you chose a t-shirt?"

"Hound thought it was fine." Shrugging, I looked over Mirage's hologram, in a white long sleeved dress shirt rolled to his elbows under a navy vest with dark tailored jeans, up to his real body. He was watching my real body. Hurriedly dividing my focus, I lifted my optics to Mirage's. He smiled and I was shocked to discover that my holoform blushed. His holoform grinned too, so I couldn't help but laugh weakly.

"Not used to this," I said uncomfortably, reaching up and touching my hair self-consciously.

"You should get all kinds of human reactions from the holo-receiver," Mirage said from his human body. "You can sneeze, your stomach can growl, you can even cry if you want."

"I don't want to cry," I said, looking down. "That implies I'm upset, and I'm not upset, frag it." I felt tears welling in my optics… eyes, honest to God wet stuff about to spill down my cheeks, so I shut off the hologram immediately. I snatched the generator before it could hit the table, the wind ruffling his holoform's perfect hair.

Mirage shut his off too, not saying anything until he'd put it away. "I'm sorry, Vura."

"Don't be," I muttered. I felt in control again, no longer flushing with embarrassment or threatening tears. Making a mask of my face, I smiled at the Elite. "So you don't like the t-shirt? I'll make something nicer. Then we'll get some of the others and go run around town somewhere. It'll be fun."

"Are you sure?" the Elite asked. "It's… a lot harder to pretend to be happy as a human."

"Tell me about it," I said, not denying the part about pretending. "But if we can get Hot Rod out of work, between the two of you it'll be a great time. We could even invite the twins."

"I don't know if they have holo-receivers," Mirage said. "But if you want, I'll check Rodimus's schedule against mine. I bet if you plan on going back to DC for Sam I could get him to assign me as an escort, and then we could wait for his time off."

I nodded, smiling in relief. "Sounds good, Raj."

He smiled back, but it faded quickly. "You aren't afraid I'll ruin it for you?"

Shaking my head, I leaned back in my chair, dropping my voice so that it would be hard for anybody but him to hear me. "Seeing Sam, having so much time to think… Do you remember what it was like after I woke up?" He nodded, but I went on anyway. "I still don't know why you wanted to be my caretaker, but you were the best friend I had. Still my best friend." I smiled over at his cool blue optics, at his easy graceful posture. "It was so fun, Raj. You didn't care about what anybody thought when we played, it was like you let down all the walls for a little while. Even before that, when I was human, you were at least playful sometimes. But I come back, and they're all up all of the time."

"I spent six stellar cycles, over six years worrying about you," Mirage said seriously.

"I know, I'm sorry… just… can we go back to where we were? When we could do anything together, when we could just play and goof off all day and not worry about anything extra? Just act like those years didn't happen?"

"How can you forget it?" He asked, leaning forward in a mirror image of me and getting so quiet that I barely heard him, even as close as I was. "I saw Rodimus the first time you were… the first time Dirge got you. He screamed, Vura. Afraid for his life, spark ripped out kinds of screams. Bots like him don't scream like that unless it's bad."

"I'm over what happened with Dirge," I said, looking down and trailing my finger in patterns on the tabletop. I hadn't realized it had hit Hot Rod that badly.

"I'm not," Mirage insisted.

"Well, I'll help you get over it too," I said, grinning at the irony even as my spark shuddered unpleasantly. "We're going back in time, and we're going to relearn how to play. Ok?"

"I can't say I understand, but if that's what you want, that's what we'll do."

Nodding, feeling vaguely satisfied even though I could feel a depression coming on, I snatched up my cube and drained it.

"I hope you don't mind, I'm going to go crash before I faceplant the table."

Mirage nodded. "Want me to walk you?"

"I'll be fine," I reassured him, standing. "When do you work?"

"I'm going to be out in a couple hours, until the morning."

"After you recharge we'll do something fun," I insisted.

"Sure, sweetheart."

He hadn't called me that in, well… years. I stood up and gave a tiny wave, then headed for my quarters. Well, Hot Rod's. Maybe it was time to consider getting my own room, if I was right about Sideswipe.

Or maybe not. As soon as I was in the quiet safety of the little room, the near-darkness… I felt painfully alone. I had to lay on my side because my wings hurt if I put weight on them on the unforgiving metal, and my replaced optic was having trouble adjusting in the dark.

Because I'd fought with Skywarp, and I'd lost. Of course I lost… but my inevitable failure didn't ease the pain of nearly dying at my old lover's hand.

"Why didn't you just kill me?" I managed to whisper. "Bastard. I don't need your pity. I don't want it."

It was a surprise when I woke up to Hot Rod's gentle hands lifting me, his body sliding against mine while his arms wrapped around me. I didn't remember even getting tired, coming close to recharge. I tucked one of his thick armored arms under mine and hugged it to my chest. He was the only one who knew how I felt.

"I love you," I whispered.

"I love you too."

He lifted his arm slightly when I gingerly rolled over, pressing my chest to his. My spark was twisting in short but frequent fits of pain. The nearness of his spark helped, but not enough.

"It's going to be ok," my brother whispered. "I'll always be right here."

"Thank you," I mumbled against his collar. His lips pressed again my helm, stroking along my back, and in the safety of his forgiving embrace I was able to drift away from the world I was growing to hate.

There was nowhere to go in the base that made me feel peaceful. The upper deck was constantly under guard, and even though I didn't mind Gears, the day watch, I didn't feel like company. I ended up staying in Hot Rod's quarters the whole morning, tweaking my holoform's clothes.

Mirage would laugh if he knew how much I was wracking my circuits to find a look I thought he'd approve of. I'd activated the hologram periodically to get a look at the clothes, but nothing fit my tastes. I put her in dozens of outfits from nothing but lingerie (not something I'd show Mirage, more out of curiosity than anything) to elaborate Victorian dresses, bonnets and all.

It wasn't until I went back to the white t-shirt and etched a black and purple Decepticon insignia inside her wrist that I got worked up. I stared at the little symbol on the fragile looking little wrist until I didn't know if I wanted to scream or cry, then I shut the hologram off and pressed my hands against my stiff metal face to muffle the whimpers I couldn't bite back.

I tracked Prowl down later that day. He was talking to some humans, nothing that looked particularly official, so I didn't mind walking up and using my imposing height to signal that I wanted to speak to the SIC.

"I'd like to go back to the Trion," I said before Prowl could ask.

"You just got back, Bravura, and I doubt Ratchet would approve of a long flight after your fight with Skywarp." He caught my flinch and frowned.

"It's the best thing for me, really," I reasoned. "I have nothing to do here, but at least in DC I can watch over Sam and keep Bumblebee company." Not to mention the Trion mechs were much more fond of group recreational activities than the ones in the City.

"You're at risk crossing the country alone."

I groaned and crossed my arms, glaring up at Prowl's impassive gaze. "I'm a big femme, Prowl. What happened was my fault, and it's not going to see a repeat performance. But… maybe…" Mirage had offered to try and be my escort. "What if someone went with me to DC? Would you let me then?"

"You act as if we can all just drop everything to follow you around at your beck and call." Prowl started to walk down the hall, so I trotted after him.

"Well, really, what's been going on since the attack? Nothing. You've just about cleaned up and rebuilt everything, and they haven't been making any bold moves. You can spare one mech. You know I'll just fly off alone if you don't let me."

Prowl actually smiled a little. "True enough. Whom did you have in mind?"

"Mirage."

He looked at me skeptically. "Why Mirage in particular?"

"He was my caretaker when I was small, so… Just feels right, I guess."

Prowl made a small sound, then shrugged. "So long as you don't take him for too long, I don't see a problem. Talk to Rodimus."

"Thanks, Prowl," I said, grinning. I knew the SIC appreciated having a say, though I could've gone straight to my brother and bypassed his approval. I'd been getting in enough trouble, though, and it didn't hurt to get on Prowl's good side.

"Missy!" I exclaimed, leaping to my feet. I was watching TV with a few soldiers when Curia and Artemis came to the rec. hall.

"Bravura, hello!" Curia chimed, meeting me halfway. "I've been wanting to thank you all this time, for going with Artemis… she said you stayed with her the whole time, but not in so many words."

I shrugged, smiling. "What else was I supposed to do? She's like a sister, or a niece. Like family."

"I think she feels the same way," Curia said, touching my shoulder. "So do I. I'm glad we have you." Artemis stretched towards me, so Curia let me take her. The little sparkling clambered up my chest until she could hug my neck tightly, then crawled to my shoulder and perched as if she belonged there. Curia went to the energon dispenser, so I picked a table to wait for her.

She sat down with us and sipped thoughtfully from her cube before looking up at me. "Skywarp hurt you?"

I stiffened, alerting Artemis to my state of mind. She leaned over me, peering at my blank expression and patting my helm.

"Yeah, but I was asking for it."

"It's really over, then?"

"Ye-ah." My voice cracked and I looked down awkwardly.

"You and Mirage have been close ever since you became Cybertronian, haven't you?"

"Yes," I said, trying to conceal my irritation. Artemis's grip on my helm slipped and she fell forward, so I caught her and lowered her to my lap, where she stood and immediately began to try and climb up me again.

"You act like a flyer," I muttered. "Can't get high enough."

"Mirage really seems to care about you."

"We care about each other," I grumbled, giving Artemis my hand to lever off of on her journey up my chest. "As friends." At least… that was what we'd agreed, anyway.

Curia nodded, smiled, and changed the subject.

Asking around, I learned that Raj had been back about five hours, so he was probably still recharging. I was tempted to barge on in him, since he'd given me his room codes when I was small, but I doubted me attacking him on his berth would be received the same way it had when I was only ten feet tall. Instead, I went to the upper deck where Gears was standing at ease, obviously somewhere on the internet.

"Hey Gears," I called as I went to the hole in the mesa, which had been reinforced but not closed off. Apparently it was to be a new hangar entrance. The door to the stairs showed signs of construction, so they would probably put safety precautions there. "I'm going to fly a few hours."

He looked at me vaguely and nodded, almost immediately going back to whatever he'd been doing. I was glad; if Ratchet knew I was already flying, he'd bash us both to bits.

Despite the ache of wind and gravity on my wings, it felt good to be aloft. Cleansing, revitalizing. And yet, now that I was free and clear of the ground… I wanted something. To go somewhere. See someone.

My groan was stolen by the ripping wind and my engine noise. My spark was looking for Dirge. Even after all this time, it still remembered him. How could it? Why would it? Why did my… my gift… keep pulling me to Dirge?

But as I thought, my wing dipped seemingly of it own accord, and I began to fly east.

I circled for hours, just following my instincts. They seemed to be telling me to wait, since Dirge apparently hadn't gotten the memo. It caught be by surprise when the Seeker met me at the state border. The Seeker came from a much higher altitude, so high that I suspected he'd been outside the atmosphere. I descended on a fairly smooth looking hillside with a gentle slope, all covered in medium-length dead grass. He landed shortly after, about thirty feet away. Stared at me.

"Hi," I said, dropping to the dirt. I felt my learned helplessness kicking in. Now that I was with Dirge, I was out of control of the situation. He could do anything he wanted and get away with it.

"Hello," he said cautiously, approaching me. He settled down near me, his great weight easy to feel through the earth.

"I don't know why I'm here," I admitted without preamble.

"Neither do I," he responded.

Sighing, I leaned back against the hillside. The grass cushioned me somewhat, making the position tolerable. I stared up the pale blue sky for a long time before I thought of anything else to say.

"What happened to the other flyers? The ones you had with you at first?"

Dirge didn't answer for a while, but when he did his voice was quiet, beautiful. Comforting. "I didn't tell them where I went. They can't find, so they're probably still working for Divebomb."

I stretched out on the dead dry grass, partially aware that I was putting myself in a weak position, should Dirge decide to turn on me. I didn't really suspect him of anything, though. I didn't feel like I should be afraid, though I couldn't shake my constant unease around him.

"Why did you really look for me?" Dirge asked after a strong gust of wind.

"No idea," I answered honestly. "I just felt like I should look for you. And I know to listen, now."

There was a smile in his voice when he spoke again. "You've been practicing?"

"Not much. It's harder without you to help. Makes me tired."

Dirge turned his head to me, his red optics' glow pale in the whitewashing sun. "You're not very strong in it," he said honestly. "Though practice will help some. I wanted to see you too… and I really don't know why, either."

It was amazing that I felt so relatively safe here, next to Dirge. He was everything I ought to fear, my rapist and my kidnapper. And yet… here I was, in his company after deliberately seeking him out. And he wasn't hurting me.

"Not just wanting to frag?" I asked tentatively.

"The thought occurred," he said casually, "but you obviously know what I really mean."

"Yeah," I sighed, turning onto my side to stare at the Seeker, so like Skywarp and so different. "I just don't get it."

He sighed heavily and stretched slightly, his arm brushing my front as he brought it back down. My spark tingled at the touch, and he looked back over at me.

"Maybe that's why," he said. "We're… pre-bonded, I guess you'd call it. Never heard of that happening, though."

"You felt it too?" I asked. "It's from… before?"

"Probably."

I sighed heavily and flopped onto my back again, wincing at the ache in my shoulders. "I've had enough of crossing the line for the enemy. It can't ever be anything, Dirge. I don't love you. I don't even know if I like you."

He reached up and let his long clawed fingers run over my stomach, which was mostly smooth with glass and plating. My spark stirred again, but I sat up and pushed his hand away.

"Stop it," I growled. "I was in love with one of your kind already, and he just about killed me. I wished he had killed me!"

Dirge stayed on his back, his optics steady on me. "You went for him after I left you in the forest."

"Of course I did!" I yelled, throwing my hands up a moment. "And I fought him. He ripped off my wings and broke my optic and left me on the moon. Apparently I almost died. I'm always on the brink for him, because of him! And I'm not about to do it again for a mech whose only saving grace is that our sparks got a taste for each other while he raped me!" I stared at Dirge, at the sympathy he shouldn't be wearing. My body slowly crumpled and I hunched, glaring down at my legs on the crunchy grass and shuddering a suppressed sob.

He sat up and put an arm around me. I growled threateningly, trying to mimic Skywarp's boulder-growl and immediately regretting it. My threat cut off abruptly and Dirge shifted closer, stroking my face, which was dwarfed in his big hands. Just the way it had been with Warp.

"Primus," I whispered, half in prayer and half in vain. I leaned against Dirge guiltily, and he stroked my arm.

"You know why they call me Dirge?" the Seeker asked quietly. When I shook my head slightly against his side, he continued. "Before I realized I could project and control fear, I radiated sorrow. Sadness. When I was young, every time I was sad everyone near me felt it. And I was often sad. Nobody wanted to befriend a mech who gave off misery all the time, and the few friends I made never lasted. Never. So it only got worse. One of my creators died when I was still young, and I projected so far they felt it all across the city. A dirge, they said, for my creator. It wasn't long until that's how everyone knew me."

"When did you learn about the fear?" I asked weakly.

"When my other creator died. I was a youngling, but she was strong. Bigger than you, fast as anything, and she knew it. A couple of massive groundpounders came up out of the bowels of Cybertron on some terrorist mission. This was long before the war… One cornered me where I couldn't fly away, and I thought I was dead. I was terrified, but next thing I knew she was there, and she killed him. Then she died right there on the ground in front of me, because he got her, but she said she'd known I needed her because she'd felt how scared I was. Later… found out the whole city knew, again. It was how they responded so fast, took down the other terrorist before he could do much. I warned them. But she was dead already, and I started down the path that took me to Thrust and Ramjet and the Decepticons."

"Sorry, Dirge," I whispered.

"Don't be. Everyone's alone when you boil it right down," Dirge said quietly, and nodded my agreement.

"Why don't you ever project sadness now?" I asked innocently. In response, I was suddenly overcome with intense despair, familiar to me in the last week. "Ok, I get it," I whimpered. The sadness faded, but not completely. My own sorrow remained intact.

"Fear elicits a more immediate response. I'd drown you in sorrow if I wanted to break you slowly. Sadness and fear seem to be related," he said over me. "You'd think fear and anger would be closer, but… I guess not."

Bravura, where are you? my brother called on our link. Mirage is looking for you, and now Gears is saying you left hours ago.

"Guess not," I whispered in agreement. "Look, Dirge… thanks for the company, but I'm missed at the City."

His grip tightened on me, as if he was going to tell me I couldn't go, but then he released me without a word.

On my way back now, bro. Should be a half hour, maybe less.

What were you doing? You seemed ok, until just a minute ago.

Just thinking.

I stood up, and Dirge followed. "I'll… see you later, Dirge," I said hesitantly, blowing out air in a rush of relief that my instincts hadn't led me into disaster. That Dirge hadn't harmed me. He just watched me, frowning slightly, so I turned and leapt into the air, transforming into the Tweet and swooping away. Somehow I felt a lot better for having seen him, but something he'd said itched at the back of my mind.

I'd drown you in sorrow if I wanted to break you slowly. Did that mean that all my wallowing was breaking me? All those timed I'd snapped that I wasn't broken, back when I was physically infirm… was I going to start cracking under the surface?

Thundercracker looked on in bitter disapproval as Skywarp lifted the oil rigger, raising the wriggling human to his optics, all dark with fury.

"This is all she was," Skywarp snarled, snapping the human around as he turned to his brother. "She was supposed to be a pet, a little plaything until I got bored. And she went and changed, but she never stopped being this thing on the inside!"

The human's shrieking hit a new high when Skywarp flung him into the other fleeing humans, striking several and grinning at his good aim.

"You loved her," Thundercracker said. "How can you believe Dirge so easily?"

"She came and admitted it," Skywarp snapped, hefting a small dirt mover and flinging it at another patch of humanity, crushing them.

Thundercracker frowned. He hadn't lifted a finger, simply let Skywarp take out his rage. He could see a side of the mech coming out that he hadn't since Starscream killed Frequency. It was like the old Skywarp was coming back out of the Pit, and the betrayed Seeker planned on sending plenty back from whence he came.

"To think I let myself look bad to Megatron for her! Well, not anymore! I'm going to kill every Autobot I see, and I'm taking every drop of energy I can from this ugly stinking mudball!" The black and purple Seeker shot the humans' truck before they could escape, setting it off in a bloom of fire and smoke.

Thundercracker sighed and lowered the energy converter parts from his shoulders to begin the process of stealing oil

Dirge and Brav are always looking for each other for a reason... If you can guess, I geev you a cookiez. I wrangled some days off from work, so maybe I'll update OE soon. Yay?