Fic: Winter Coat (1/?)
Title: Winter Coat
Rating: G (This chapter at least)
Characters/Pairings: Hound, Mirage, Trailbreaker, Sideswipe, Cliffjumper, Gears, future Hound/Mirage (I think)
Summary: Hound can see underneath the cold exterior that Mirage uses to protect himself. Knowing what's wrong doesn't make helping him any easier, however.
Warnings: None yet
Author's Notes: This story is inspired by the prompt "I prefer the winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape, the loneliness of it, the dead of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn’t show" from the Three's a Charm challenge at the houndxmirage community. I'm not even sure how long this story will be. It could be another chapter, two, or twelve. Or I could get sidetracked and leave it at this. Who knows?
"Hound, you're staring. Mirage may not pay attention to us, but he's gonna eventually notice he's being watched."
Hound snapped to attention, he looked sidelong at Trailbreaker and smiled sheepishly. Trailbreaker's own lips were pressed into a tight line to hide his amusement, amusement their other tablemates did not share.
"What's got your gears turning for him? He hasn't talked to anyone but the officers and the rest of Special Ops since he came here," Cliffjumper said, looking askance at the solitary mech.
"Well, that's not entirely true-" Hound started, but was cut off by Cliffjumper.
"'Kindly move, you boor, you're blocking the doorway' doesn't count."
Trailbreaker, Sideswipe, and Gears snickered. "Oh, he talks plenty, just usually not to any of us." Sideswipe picked up his energon cube, imitating a sneer of disgust. "What is this vile substance? I wouldn't feed it to my hired help. My systems can only take the finest of processed energon, and I demand it in a cube made of platinum with gold etchings."
Hound winced, worrying that Sideswipe's voice would carry over the room. The mech was far from subtle. "Alright, might want to keep it down a little, you don't want-"
"Where's someone to wash my back! I must be immaculate and shine like a jewel! I am far too good for dull plating," Sideswipe went on, garnering more laughter from other tables.
"You sure that's not your brother you're channeling there?" Trailbreaker asked.
"Nah, Sunny just makes me do it, or bullies someone into washing him. He's not so entitled as to expect it without first telling someone."
Hound glanced back to see Mirage's shoulders hunched and his hands shaking around the cube he was holding. He turned back to his friends. "Cut it out, he can hear you."
"Maybe he'll finally lower himself to talk to us lesser mechs then. He doesn't do it voluntarily after all," Gears replied.
"Considering your crude behavior, it's a wonder anyone can stand you lot," Mirage's cold voice said from behind Hound. The scout resisted twisting too quickly in his seat as he looked up at Mirage. Immaculate arms were crossed, chin tilted to regard their table. A bitter smile curled the noble's lips. "But thank you, at least I know where I stand among you." He turned heel and left.
Hound looked between Mirage's retreating form and his friends before getting up to follow him out of the room. "Uh, Mirage, hey, wait up a click please?" Mirage's stiff stride didn't even slow and Hound had to jog to catch up before matching pace with him. "Hey, I'm sorry about what everyone said in there, they didn't-"
"Save your apologies, I don't need them," Mirage said, staring straight ahead. "The ones who should be saying them to me aren't going to, you shouldn't do that for them."
"But I really am sorry, they shouldn't have said that about you. I just want you to know not everyone feels like that; we all talk slag about each other all of the time, it's kind of a stress reliever for us."
"It's so wonderful to know my humiliation can make everyone feel better about themselves," Mirage said with false cheer.
Hound quickened his pace to overtake Mirage's and block his progress. "Will you stop talking at me and talk to me? I want to help you."
Mirage backed off a little, looking like some weary creature ready to bolt. "What makes you think I need help? And why would you even want to?"
"It wasn't easy when I lost my home either. You just want to curl up and die, you'll do anything to make the pain stop. I had friends to help me and I talked about it with others who could understand, and it still hurts like a branding iron's on my spark, but it's getting easier. I know you're dealing with the same thing with the Towers, and I'm worried for you."
Any remaining agitation faded, but Mirage still watched Hound carefully. "We've spoken hardly ten words to each other at any time. You shouldn't concern yourself with me. How can you even presume to know what sort of help I've been seeking?"
"Because Ratchet's been glowering at you and he only does that if you're not doing something he thinks you should. The medic back on the first base me and 'Breaker were on did the same until we started talking about Uraya. The pain did get better after that; and I can tell you're still hurting, I hate seeing someone who needs help and no one does anything about it."
Mirage was silent, carefully considering Hound's words. "What made you talk about Uraya?"
"When I nearly got myself killed trying to get at a Decepticon who was talking slag about it. 'Breaker punched me as soon as I was better for scaring him. I thought I'd been handling my feelings, but I really wasn't. So we both took Transponder's advice and started joining the group help sessions he held."
Mirage looked away, shaking his head as a sadness Hound was all too familiar with shrouded his optics. "I don't think I'm ready. Besides, who would want to listen about some 'spoiled Towers brat' bemoaning about his lost lifestyle?"
Hound stepped into his view, smiling in what he hoped was reassuring. "You'd be surprised. There are more mechs here who are willing to help out than you probably think. And if you can't find anyone else, then you can still come to me. I know how it feels."
Mirage nodded, still pensive, but less guarded than before they'd started talking. "Perhaps when I feel ready. For now, I think I still need time to myself to sort out my feelings."
Hound nodded, doubtful, but accepting. "If you want. Trust me though, when you do need to talk, it'll be less 'when you're ready' and more 'because you don't have much of a choice'. I won't push you about it, though. Anymore at least. Just remember, you can still talk to me if no one else, alright?"
Mirage nodded, stepping around Hound and walking off.
Rating: G (This chapter at least)
Characters/Pairings: Hound, Mirage, Trailbreaker, Sideswipe, Cliffjumper, Gears, future Hound/Mirage (I think)
Summary: Hound can see underneath the cold exterior that Mirage uses to protect himself. Knowing what's wrong doesn't make helping him any easier, however.
Warnings: None yet
Author's Notes: This story is inspired by the prompt "I prefer the winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape, the loneliness of it, the dead of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn’t show" from the Three's a Charm challenge at the houndxmirage community. I'm not even sure how long this story will be. It could be another chapter, two, or twelve. Or I could get sidetracked and leave it at this. Who knows?
"Hound, you're staring. Mirage may not pay attention to us, but he's gonna eventually notice he's being watched."
Hound snapped to attention, he looked sidelong at Trailbreaker and smiled sheepishly. Trailbreaker's own lips were pressed into a tight line to hide his amusement, amusement their other tablemates did not share.
"What's got your gears turning for him? He hasn't talked to anyone but the officers and the rest of Special Ops since he came here," Cliffjumper said, looking askance at the solitary mech.
"Well, that's not entirely true-" Hound started, but was cut off by Cliffjumper.
"'Kindly move, you boor, you're blocking the doorway' doesn't count."
Trailbreaker, Sideswipe, and Gears snickered. "Oh, he talks plenty, just usually not to any of us." Sideswipe picked up his energon cube, imitating a sneer of disgust. "What is this vile substance? I wouldn't feed it to my hired help. My systems can only take the finest of processed energon, and I demand it in a cube made of platinum with gold etchings."
Hound winced, worrying that Sideswipe's voice would carry over the room. The mech was far from subtle. "Alright, might want to keep it down a little, you don't want-"
"Where's someone to wash my back! I must be immaculate and shine like a jewel! I am far too good for dull plating," Sideswipe went on, garnering more laughter from other tables.
"You sure that's not your brother you're channeling there?" Trailbreaker asked.
"Nah, Sunny just makes me do it, or bullies someone into washing him. He's not so entitled as to expect it without first telling someone."
Hound glanced back to see Mirage's shoulders hunched and his hands shaking around the cube he was holding. He turned back to his friends. "Cut it out, he can hear you."
"Maybe he'll finally lower himself to talk to us lesser mechs then. He doesn't do it voluntarily after all," Gears replied.
"Considering your crude behavior, it's a wonder anyone can stand you lot," Mirage's cold voice said from behind Hound. The scout resisted twisting too quickly in his seat as he looked up at Mirage. Immaculate arms were crossed, chin tilted to regard their table. A bitter smile curled the noble's lips. "But thank you, at least I know where I stand among you." He turned heel and left.
Hound looked between Mirage's retreating form and his friends before getting up to follow him out of the room. "Uh, Mirage, hey, wait up a click please?" Mirage's stiff stride didn't even slow and Hound had to jog to catch up before matching pace with him. "Hey, I'm sorry about what everyone said in there, they didn't-"
"Save your apologies, I don't need them," Mirage said, staring straight ahead. "The ones who should be saying them to me aren't going to, you shouldn't do that for them."
"But I really am sorry, they shouldn't have said that about you. I just want you to know not everyone feels like that; we all talk slag about each other all of the time, it's kind of a stress reliever for us."
"It's so wonderful to know my humiliation can make everyone feel better about themselves," Mirage said with false cheer.
Hound quickened his pace to overtake Mirage's and block his progress. "Will you stop talking at me and talk to me? I want to help you."
Mirage backed off a little, looking like some weary creature ready to bolt. "What makes you think I need help? And why would you even want to?"
"It wasn't easy when I lost my home either. You just want to curl up and die, you'll do anything to make the pain stop. I had friends to help me and I talked about it with others who could understand, and it still hurts like a branding iron's on my spark, but it's getting easier. I know you're dealing with the same thing with the Towers, and I'm worried for you."
Any remaining agitation faded, but Mirage still watched Hound carefully. "We've spoken hardly ten words to each other at any time. You shouldn't concern yourself with me. How can you even presume to know what sort of help I've been seeking?"
"Because Ratchet's been glowering at you and he only does that if you're not doing something he thinks you should. The medic back on the first base me and 'Breaker were on did the same until we started talking about Uraya. The pain did get better after that; and I can tell you're still hurting, I hate seeing someone who needs help and no one does anything about it."
Mirage was silent, carefully considering Hound's words. "What made you talk about Uraya?"
"When I nearly got myself killed trying to get at a Decepticon who was talking slag about it. 'Breaker punched me as soon as I was better for scaring him. I thought I'd been handling my feelings, but I really wasn't. So we both took Transponder's advice and started joining the group help sessions he held."
Mirage looked away, shaking his head as a sadness Hound was all too familiar with shrouded his optics. "I don't think I'm ready. Besides, who would want to listen about some 'spoiled Towers brat' bemoaning about his lost lifestyle?"
Hound stepped into his view, smiling in what he hoped was reassuring. "You'd be surprised. There are more mechs here who are willing to help out than you probably think. And if you can't find anyone else, then you can still come to me. I know how it feels."
Mirage nodded, still pensive, but less guarded than before they'd started talking. "Perhaps when I feel ready. For now, I think I still need time to myself to sort out my feelings."
Hound nodded, doubtful, but accepting. "If you want. Trust me though, when you do need to talk, it'll be less 'when you're ready' and more 'because you don't have much of a choice'. I won't push you about it, though. Anymore at least. Just remember, you can still talk to me if no one else, alright?"
Mirage nodded, stepping around Hound and walking off.