Fic: Winter Coat (5/?)
Title: Winter Coat
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Hound, Mirage, several OC Decepticons
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: Violence
A/N: Thanks goes to naggingfishwife for betaing. As she noted, this is my longest chapter yet. The word count came out to 4,600 words, and there was still more I wanted to add until I had to tell myself I had to cut it off at some point.
Mirage’s ventilating started to quicken as the Decepticons closed in on him. They seemed to loom over him, making him feel small and vulnerable by comparison. Their faces were shadowed, and all he could see was the eerie red glow of their optics. A fearful sound escaped him unbidden and it elicited chuckles from the mechs. He tried to struggle, but the hold on him only tightened, making him cry out.
“What’s the matter Towerling, don’t you want to play with us? We sure want to play with you, a sweet little thing like you would be fun,” one of the mechs said.
“No, stop! Help! Hound, where are you?” Mirage cried out, turning his head frantically to seek out Hound.
“He’s long gone, left you all alone with us. They all left you.”
“They wouldn’t,” Mirage said plaintively, almost begging with the Decepticons. They promised, he’d believed them. “Jazz! Ratchet! Prime!” Mirage started trembling. “Please, someone…”
A hand slapped him hard and he heard glass shatter. Looking back up at the faces of his captors, his vision narrowed and he realized one of his optical lenses had brooken. “Quit that pathetic wailing. What did you expect? You were so nasty to them, of course they’d leave. Who could trust someone as foul as you?”
“But they promised,” Mirage said, voice lost and desperate.
The Decepticons laughed. “Haven’t you learned yet? You can’t trust anyone.”
Mirage felt a hand on his arm, gentler than he’d expect from a Decepticon. “Mirage,” a voice called, far kinder than it should be as well. “Mirage, c’mon, get up.”
Mirage let out a shaky exhale as he opened his optics and saw a filthy gunmetal gray wall. He turned his helm and saw the worried aqua colored optics of Hound looking down on him.
Mirage scooted away and sat up. “What’s wrong?” he asked as he tried to push away the dream he’d just been having.
“You were trembling and murmuring. I figured you were having a bad recharge and thought I’d wake you up.”
Mirage lowered his optics and nodded almost imperceptibly. “Thank you. It was unpleasant.” Mirage was indeed grateful. He didn’t want to know what his own twisted CPU would’ve concocted for him if he’d been left undisturbed.
“We should probably be getting up anyways, there’s plenty of training still ahead for you.” Hound handed Mirage a small packet, containing concentrated energon that had been crystalized. It was the preferred method of storing food for mechs out on their own.
“Thank you,” Mirage said to Hound as he tore open the packet, shaking out the crystalized energon, it was as thick as the width of his finger, circular, and the size of his palm. He bit off a small mouthful, letting it dissolve before swallowing. “How, ah… how was your watch?” Mirage ventured to ask. It wasn’t so much that he was interested in how the watch went, he could guess it was uneventful, but he did want to put his dream as far from his mind as he could.
“Nothing happened,” Hound said with a shrug as he ate his own ration. “There was a little commotion, but it was just a couple of mechanimals scavenging; turbo foxes or retrorats would be my guess. I didn’t catch what they were, but they weren’t Decepticons.”
“Do Decepticons venture out here much?”
“Sometimes, if they’re out here they’re likely on their way to try and sneak into Iacon, or they’re letting off steam and destroying the stuff out here. They won’t be out here expecting us, though, and won’t be actively searching for anyone. If we did see them, what do you think our course of action should be?”
Mirage mulled over the question as he nibbled on his energon ration. “We should follow them, but keep our distance. We assess the situation to see why they are here. We’d contact the base, await instructions and follow those orders.”
“If we can’t reach the base over our comm units?” Hound asked.
“I suppose we’d have to take them out,” Mirage said, looking down and studying his hands.
“Not a comfortable thought, is it?”
“I find it difficult to relish killing.” He had only felt any satisfaction over one death, but still it hadn’t given him what he’d really wanted. He’d still felt empty and lost, and although he could kill, was willing to kill, it didn’t bring him satisfaction.
“That’s probably a good thing. It’s dangerous to start enjoying anyone’s death. We’ve gotta do it, but I hate that we have to.”
“I was taught that violence should never be the answer, that if we only sit down and talk with our adversaries we can learn to compromise and work together for something better. Those lessons… they didn’t work. The Decepticons, most of them at least, don’t want to talk. I’ve seen the look in their optics, they enjoy the violence and slaughter. Some I think do fight because they believe in the cause, and I’ve seen some who don’t delight in this war, the same as us. In the same manner, I see Autobots laugh about killing Decepticons, and I think some of them would be lost without something to fight.”
“War gets to everyone, unfortunately. You just have to remind yourself not to be one of those mechs,” Hound said. Suddenly, he could see Mirage’s true place in their world. It wasn’t here, in a ruined city eating energy rations with a gun slung over his shoulder. His place was before some assembly, fighting with words and striking his opponents with his thought and wit. Granted, few had a place in this war, but some were far more removed than others.
“How do you keep from succumbing to all of this hatred and pain?” Mirage asked, the mask falling for a moment, allowing Hound to see how lost and alone his spark had told him the mech had to be.
“With the support of my friends. We’re all there for each other; we’ll talk, cry, laugh, whatever’s needed. Even Prime needs the support of his own friends. You ever notice after a fight how he and Ironhide go off together with Elita-One and Chromia? No one’s alone in this.”
Mirage shuttered his optics, feeling a wrenching pain on his spark and internals. He needed a few precious seconds to calm himself before he did something he might regret. Whether that might be to snap at Hound, or accept the proffered friendship he wasn’t certain. Finally, he opened his optics again, the mask back on. “I don’t think that’s what I need, however. Friendship may give strength to you, but it has yet to serve me well.”
Hound wouldn’t press, he couldn’t. He’d pushed and seen that moment Mirage almost faltered. If he kept it up, he’d only make Mirage defensive and possibly ruin his chances of getting under the metaphorical crack in Mirage’s armor. Mirage would come around given time; Hound just had to wait for his chance.
---
Hours later found Mirage alone with his frustration mounting. Hound had spent the first half of the day showing him some of his own tricks for tracking before going off and leaving Mirage alone to try and find the scout. Mirage found some small hint here or there, some recently disturbed rubble or a smear on the side of a building from a hand using it for support. What irked him even more was that Hound was likely leaving this trail on purpose.
Mirage’s style wasn’t like his. Hound used smell, followed clues, and pursued his prey, Mirage had been more of one to guess where his target would be and lie in wait for it to come to him. Hound was more erratic than even a turbofox and Mirage was reaching the end of his patience looking for his wayward instructor. If he didn’t find Hound before they had to rest for the night, he’d have to endure the humiliation of failing his test in tracking.
Mirage cursed lowly, barely stopping himself from kicking something. If Hound was nearby, which was unlikely, he’d alert the scout to his presence if he made too much noise. He froze as something crashed somewhere ahead of him. He activated his electro disruptor, unwilling to chance that the noise came from Hound. He went ahead to investigate despite the wrenching of his spark.
More crashes and laughter met his audios as he got closer, and he even picked of the sound of laserfire. Finally he was close enough to see who was making all of the noise and dread wrapped it’s cold hand around his spark. There was a party of Decepticons, fifteen in total, one a trine of seekers, the rest heavyset grounders. They were quite bold to be in Iacon’s outskirts. Did they not care about possibly being detected by Autobots? Then again, they could be bold with seekers near. Fliers had an entire dimension of movement to themselves and Decepticon seekers never hesitated to use that advantage to bomb ground bound Autobots.
::Hound, I’ve encounted a party of Decepticons, three seekers and twelve grounders. They appear to be here only for wanton destruction. Shall I keep watching them?:: Mirage asked over their communication line. He hunched down as laser pistols and rifles were waved through the air, striking the sides of buildings and windows.
::Yes, doesn’t matter what they’re here for, we need to keep an optic on them. Send a message to base as well, they’ll tell you the same, but it’s good to keep everyone in the loop::
::Understood, I’ll contact base right now::
::Before you go, what’s your position? I’ll be there in a breem or two and provide you some support::
Mirage was about to send his coordinates, but the sound of strained metal above him broke his concentration on the task. He looked up, optics widening as a heavy sign above him groaned. A laser struck one of the supports for it and Mirage realized it must have become the target for the trigger happy Decepticons.
Something snapped and the sign swung down. Mirage broke from his frozen state and tried to scramble away. He almost made it out of the sign’s path, but felt the weight of metal and glass fall down upon him. He’d had only an instant to register it had fallen on him before he was knocked out.
---
When Mirage came to the first thing he felt was cold metal on his cheek. He shifted and groaned, realizing he was lying on his side. The first sight his optics met when they came online was a sea of legs and a storm gray floor. He quickly scanned the area, broken and upturned tables, chairs, and benches. From the décor of his surroundings, he guessed it was an old restaurant that had been abandoned long ago.
“Oh look, our friend’s awake,” a voice said from above Mirage. There was a shifting of bodies and Mirage knew instantly it was the Decepticons he’d discovered that surrounded him. He tried to bolt up, maybe get away, but he couldn’t bring his arms out in front of him. He jerked at his wrists, but they stopped short with the cables binding them behind his back.
Mirage refused to acknowledge the Decepticons while he lay at their feet. He managed to lever himself so that he was sitting before looking up at them. His efforts were for nothing as one of the Decepticons kicked out at him, throwing him onto his back.
“Have a nice nap, Autobot?” the Decepticon who’d just kicked him asked. He was one of the largest of the assembled mechs and easily several times heavier than Mirage as well as two heads taller than him. He was painted dark green with twin indigo stripes running up his chassis and down the length of his arms. He had a simple rounded helm much like Prowl and Ratchet, and a purple visor covered his optics. Mirage figured he must have made himself some sort of impromptu ringleader of the assembled Decepticons, odd considering Seekers were known to be proud and distant with non-fliers and would mostly stick with other fliers. At the very least he would have expected them to try and lead the group. Maybe he could use it to his advantage if they were somehow resentful of this arrangement.
“I can’t say it was especially restful,” Mirage said, keeping his tone even. Right now it was best if he avoided angering his captors, and it was tricky figuring out what would offend them the least.
The head mech smirked. “Pity,” he said. “You gonna tell us what you were doing spying on us?”
“Wouldn’t you watch if you came upon a group of Autobots carousing in Decepticon territory?”
“Nah, I’d just shoot ‘em and leave one to answer my questions. Depending how they answered me, I might even be nice enough to kill them quickly instead of taking them back to face our leader. I’m a damn blessing compared to him.”
Mirage bit back a smart retort. “From the stories I have heard, that does not seem a faulty assessment. I have answered your first question, regardless. I watched you because you were here; it would be foolish to leave an enemy when they strayed so near Autobot territory.”
“Fine, any other Autobots around? Are there gonna be more?”
“No, I’m the only one out here.” Mirage figured it would be best to lie and try to inspire overconfidence in them. Hopefully they’d become more reckless and take their time with him if they thought they had the time to tease and torment him without retaliation.
A pede lifted and pressed down on his front, pressing him between it and the unforgiving floor. Mirage did not let any of his distress show, but winced as plating creaked and groan. “Just you? Are you sure? If you lie, things’ll be much worse for you.”
“I’m not, I swear!” Mirage gasped, afraid he may be crushed under the mech. “I didn’t have the time to speak with anyone.
The mech lifted his pede and reached down for Mirage. He grabbed him by his shoulder and lifted him before shoving him against the wall. “I’m not all too convinced yet, but I know how to make nobles like you talk.”
Mirage’s optics widened, shocked that the mech knew of his former status. He twisted and tugged at his bond wrists to no avail. Somehow he knew this revelation bode an even worse ill for him.
The mech’s grin widened, but was tinged with something bitter. “I’ve seen your face before. Megatron has a price on your head. You took out twenty eight soldiers and two officers back in the Towers attack. You know who any of those mechs were?”
Mirage wished he could, because he feared the mech’s reaction when he answered to the contrary. “No, I don’t know any of their names.” He bit back a cry as a fist struck his cheek.
“It’s just like a noble to not give a damn about anyone else.” The mech pressed closer to Mirage, their nasal ridges almost touching. “One of the mechs you killed was named Refractor; he was my brother, my little brother.”
Mirage was struck with a horrible fear. He knew how losing a loved one could twist a mech’s spark into something hateful and ugly. That it was a Decepticon who had directed those feelings onto him only worsened the situation.
“He was shot in the back. You such a coward, Autobot, that you can’t even fight fair?” The Decepticon slammed Mirage back into the wall.
“He laughed as he killed weaponless civilians! They all did. Where was the fairness in that? Was I to lie down and die as they tore apart our homes?” Mirage was smacked so hard he was thrown to the ground. He cried out as he was kicked in the midsection several times.
“Yes! You should die, you slagger!” He stopped his assault, grinning with malice as Mirage curled up on his side and tried to protect his middle. “Coward,” he sneered. “You think this is painful? You haven’t faced nothing yet.” He pulled Mirage up, holding him by the neck and pinning him against the wall.
Mirage kicked out at his assailant, desperate for reprieve. The Decepticon ignored the kicks, pressing tighter against Mirage’s neck. Behind him the other Decepticons hollered their approval and encouragements.
With his free hand the Decepticon started punching Mirage, raining blow after blow down on him. Mirage swung his knee the elbow joint of the arm holding him suspended. The limb reflexively flinched, and Mirage dropped to the floor on his side. He swung a leg out, catching the Decepticon by the back of a knee. The leg buckled and he struck out again, catching the mech in the midsection.
The other assembled Decepticons realized Mirage might overpower their comrade and rushed forward, piling on Mirage and grabbing at him. Mirage struggled between them, striking out with his legs, but to no avail. He was pulled up with an arm curled around his neck.
“We’ve got a little firecracker here,” one of the Decepticons snickered. “Is he too much for you, Recoil?”
The mech who had been beating Mirage snarled and looked ready to hit his teammate. “Maybe you wanna try letting him go and face him alone?”
“I’ll pass on that. He’s a slippery little glitch. I don’t want him going invisible and shooting me in the back. I’ll hold him for you, how’s that?”
“Fine by me,” Recoil said. He stalked forward and grabbed Mirage by a leg. The horrifying image of the dead family from yesterday flashed through Mirage’s CPU and he was filled with a horrible dread.
“No!” he cried out, twisting in the hold the two mechs had on him, but both held tight. He gasped as a fist slammed into the side of his knee joint and his vocalizer crackled with static as pain raced up his leg. Although Mirage wasn’t a medic, he was pretty certain the joint had been knocked out of alignment. It was still a mixed relief for him when Recoil dropped his leg; physical pain was easier for him to handle.
“Let ‘im go, Synch, and we’ll see how tough he is with only a leg to stand on,” Recoil said, sneering. The other Decepticons chuckled, gathered in a tight circle and blocking Mirage’s escape.
Mirage almost fell when he was released, but caught himself on his good leg and kept the other raised off the ground. If he got out of this, he’d have a smart retort for anyone who teased his ‘perfect posture’. Right now it was all of those lessons in good posture and proper balance that kept him upright and still.
A devious grin spread over Recoil’s lips and he kicked a foot out at Mirage, who jumped back. Mirage wobbled as he landed on only one pede and kept the other off the ground. Recoil reached out again as though to push him and Mirage stumbled back, but Recoil kept advancing, laughing as Mirage stumbled away from him.
The laughter only intensified when Mirage finally lost his balance and fell on his back. A pede landed on his injured knee and pressed down. Mirage thought he was going to pass out as white hot agony race up his leg. Recoil only pressed harder, finally earning a scream. Mirage was certain his leg was being crushed, feeling a terrible, sickening sensation of wires and support struts grinding together.
Finally Recoil relented, easing off of Mirage. Mirage lay panting as his limbs trembled. He almost wished the Decepticons would just shoot him; that would be better than being toyed with in this manner.
All heads shot up as the doors to the old restaurant they were in were flung open. Mirage smiled at the sight of Hound standing in the archway of the double doors with at least forty Autobots behind him, all with their weapons trained on the Decepticons. “You creeps better step away from Mirage now before you find out what a mech looks like with a few dozen holes in his chassis,” Hound said. Mirage was surprised Hound could actually be menacing given the proper provocation.
The Decepticons slowly stepped back, Recoil doing so with a very dark and ugly look. Mirage turned on his front, trembling as he tried to use his good leg to stand. Without the use of his arms, it was a useless endeavor.
Seeing Mirage’s struggle, Hound cautiously approached him while keeping an optic on the Decepticons. The group backed away under the glares of the other Autobots gathered at the doors. None were foolhardy enough to try anything under the scrutiny of so many.
Hound kneeled by Mirage, pulling him up and supporting him. He glared at the gathered Decepticons. “The key for his cuffs?” He held out his hand, his other wrapped around Mirage’s waist. Normally such close contact would have been embarrassing and uncomfortable for Mirage, but now he took solace in the safety of Hound’s presence.
Recoil glowered but pulled a small square key card for the lock on Mirage’s cuffs. He tossed it and Hound lurched forward to catch it. Mirage winced as his sore body was jostled by the movement. Hound adjusted his hold and unlocked the cuffs around Mirage’s wrists, letting them clatter to the floor.
Mirage let out a small sigh of relief and wrapped an arm around Hound’s shoulder, leaning into him as Hound helped support him. They backed towards the entrance, Hound with his rifle trained on the Decepticons until he’d closed the doors.
“I didn’t think help would come so quickly, how long did those Decepticons have me?” Mirage asked as Hound helped him away, the rest of the Autobots remaining strangely silent.
Hound grinned. “They didn’t. I called in for help as soon as your comm went silent, but we’ve still got a full cycle before back up arrives.”
Mirage looked back at the assembled group in confusion. “But they’re-”
“Not really there. I’ve got a hologram projector.” Hound chuckled. “And the ‘Cons never stop falling for it. We’d better find a place to hide quickly though, they might get bold and attack us anyway, and then I really won’t be fooling them.”
Hound led Mirage to an alley between what looked to be two office buildings, and they settled down at the very end of it. “Why are we hiding so close to the Decepticons? They’re sure to find us if we stay here,” Mirage said, anxious and watchful of the sky and the mouth of the alley.
“You’re not going far in your condition. Besides, in my experience when hiding from ‘Cons they’ll usually expect you to get as far away from them as fast as you can. They rarely think to search from the start. We’ll stay under my holo, and if any of them come, use your electro disruptor to hide.”
“That isn’t going to deter them. They’ll know you wouldn’t leave me. Even if they don’t figure that out, I can’t just let you get killed by them.”
“We’re both getting out of this alive. Trust me.”
Mirage sighed, deciding not to continue arguing. There was at least one thing Hound was right about, Mirage wasn’t getting far with his knee, so all he could do was trust Hound; he didn’t have any other choice, and was dependent on Hound’s experience and skills in his injured state. He wouldn’t admit how terrified that made him and instead buried those feelings away.
For half a cycle they watched the Decepticons go back and forth outside of the alley looking for them while grumbling and growling. Every time he heard seeker engines whine above or the heavy pedefalls of the other ground mechs Mirage fought not to flinch. He thought of the brutal attack on his home, the offline frames from yesterday, and his own recent treatment.
“Hound-”
A hand pressed against his mouth and Hound gently shushed him. “Someone’s coming,” he murmured, watching the mouth of the alley.
“-gone. It’s time to head back to base. It’s not a big loss.”
There was the sound of a struggle, but neither Hound nor Mirage could see what the Decepticons outside of the alley were doing. “It wasn’t your damn brother who died, was it? You can go back if you want, but I’m not leaving until that little scrap pile is dead. They couldn’t have gotten far with him in that condition.”
“Stormfront’s trine hasn’t seen anything of those Autobots, they’re all gone. Let it go.”
“They’re here! Somewhere, I know it,” Recoil hissed. “I can’t let him go this easy. ‘Fractor wouldn’t let him go if it had been me.”
Mirage knew that feeling better than anybody, the pain and hate of losing a loved one and facing their killer. Killer; that wasn’t a word he ever thought he’d associate with himself.
“And where do you suggest we start looking? This place is a fragging maze.”
There was a roar of rage; Mirage assumed it was Recoil. Hound placed a hand on Mirage’s shoulder, as though to reassure him, but Mirage thought maybe Hound was seeking the contact just as much for himself as his fellow soldier.
A pistol was pressed into his hand, and Mirage realized he was unarmed. The Decepticons had likely taken his rifle when he’d been knocked out. It may have been less fire power, but the pistol was some protection nonetheless.
“Then Stormfront and his trine can blow up the whole fragging place! They come out or they’ll die, either way we’ll get them!”
“How much longer for that back up?” Mirage whispered next to Hound’s audio.
“I’ll call in,” Hound said. A few seconds later he answered, “We’ve got five more breems.”
“Are they aware we may not last that long?”
“We’ll manage. We take out the mechs out there and hope those seekers won’t check in on them any time soon.”
“I don’t know if I can make it over there, at least not silently. Even if you help me over there, I’d still have to hop on my good leg, it’ll cause too much noise.”
Hound patted Mirage’s shoulder in reassurance. “Then you’ll stay here and I’ll take care of them. You go invisible, and don’t come out unless I give the word, got it?”
“Hound, are you insane? You don’t know how many Decepticons are out there, you may not be able to take all of them down.” Mirage latched onto Hound’s arm, refusing to let him do something that could get him killed. “We should wait for the others, you could be killed.”
The cheerful grin Hound gave Mirage made the noble want to smack him, and Mirage nearly did as Hound said, “I’ll have to remember that doing heroically stupid things is what gets you to reach out to mechs.” Hound started prying Mirage’s hands off him. “I can’t get you out of here, and I’m not leaving you to save myself. If they get the seekers to raze this place, neither of us’ll survive. I could die, but I’m willing to risk that if one of us can make it out.” Hound finally got out of Mirage’s hold and headed toward the mouth of the alley.
Mirage was left watching Hound’s retreating figure, feeling pathetically useless. Seeing no other options, he put up his cloak and smothered his urge to scream at Hound’s back about his ‘heroic stupidity’ as the scout had so aptly put it.
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Hound, Mirage, several OC Decepticons
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: Violence
A/N: Thanks goes to naggingfishwife for betaing. As she noted, this is my longest chapter yet. The word count came out to 4,600 words, and there was still more I wanted to add until I had to tell myself I had to cut it off at some point.
Mirage’s ventilating started to quicken as the Decepticons closed in on him. They seemed to loom over him, making him feel small and vulnerable by comparison. Their faces were shadowed, and all he could see was the eerie red glow of their optics. A fearful sound escaped him unbidden and it elicited chuckles from the mechs. He tried to struggle, but the hold on him only tightened, making him cry out.
“What’s the matter Towerling, don’t you want to play with us? We sure want to play with you, a sweet little thing like you would be fun,” one of the mechs said.
“No, stop! Help! Hound, where are you?” Mirage cried out, turning his head frantically to seek out Hound.
“He’s long gone, left you all alone with us. They all left you.”
“They wouldn’t,” Mirage said plaintively, almost begging with the Decepticons. They promised, he’d believed them. “Jazz! Ratchet! Prime!” Mirage started trembling. “Please, someone…”
A hand slapped him hard and he heard glass shatter. Looking back up at the faces of his captors, his vision narrowed and he realized one of his optical lenses had brooken. “Quit that pathetic wailing. What did you expect? You were so nasty to them, of course they’d leave. Who could trust someone as foul as you?”
“But they promised,” Mirage said, voice lost and desperate.
The Decepticons laughed. “Haven’t you learned yet? You can’t trust anyone.”
Mirage felt a hand on his arm, gentler than he’d expect from a Decepticon. “Mirage,” a voice called, far kinder than it should be as well. “Mirage, c’mon, get up.”
Mirage let out a shaky exhale as he opened his optics and saw a filthy gunmetal gray wall. He turned his helm and saw the worried aqua colored optics of Hound looking down on him.
Mirage scooted away and sat up. “What’s wrong?” he asked as he tried to push away the dream he’d just been having.
“You were trembling and murmuring. I figured you were having a bad recharge and thought I’d wake you up.”
Mirage lowered his optics and nodded almost imperceptibly. “Thank you. It was unpleasant.” Mirage was indeed grateful. He didn’t want to know what his own twisted CPU would’ve concocted for him if he’d been left undisturbed.
“We should probably be getting up anyways, there’s plenty of training still ahead for you.” Hound handed Mirage a small packet, containing concentrated energon that had been crystalized. It was the preferred method of storing food for mechs out on their own.
“Thank you,” Mirage said to Hound as he tore open the packet, shaking out the crystalized energon, it was as thick as the width of his finger, circular, and the size of his palm. He bit off a small mouthful, letting it dissolve before swallowing. “How, ah… how was your watch?” Mirage ventured to ask. It wasn’t so much that he was interested in how the watch went, he could guess it was uneventful, but he did want to put his dream as far from his mind as he could.
“Nothing happened,” Hound said with a shrug as he ate his own ration. “There was a little commotion, but it was just a couple of mechanimals scavenging; turbo foxes or retrorats would be my guess. I didn’t catch what they were, but they weren’t Decepticons.”
“Do Decepticons venture out here much?”
“Sometimes, if they’re out here they’re likely on their way to try and sneak into Iacon, or they’re letting off steam and destroying the stuff out here. They won’t be out here expecting us, though, and won’t be actively searching for anyone. If we did see them, what do you think our course of action should be?”
Mirage mulled over the question as he nibbled on his energon ration. “We should follow them, but keep our distance. We assess the situation to see why they are here. We’d contact the base, await instructions and follow those orders.”
“If we can’t reach the base over our comm units?” Hound asked.
“I suppose we’d have to take them out,” Mirage said, looking down and studying his hands.
“Not a comfortable thought, is it?”
“I find it difficult to relish killing.” He had only felt any satisfaction over one death, but still it hadn’t given him what he’d really wanted. He’d still felt empty and lost, and although he could kill, was willing to kill, it didn’t bring him satisfaction.
“That’s probably a good thing. It’s dangerous to start enjoying anyone’s death. We’ve gotta do it, but I hate that we have to.”
“I was taught that violence should never be the answer, that if we only sit down and talk with our adversaries we can learn to compromise and work together for something better. Those lessons… they didn’t work. The Decepticons, most of them at least, don’t want to talk. I’ve seen the look in their optics, they enjoy the violence and slaughter. Some I think do fight because they believe in the cause, and I’ve seen some who don’t delight in this war, the same as us. In the same manner, I see Autobots laugh about killing Decepticons, and I think some of them would be lost without something to fight.”
“War gets to everyone, unfortunately. You just have to remind yourself not to be one of those mechs,” Hound said. Suddenly, he could see Mirage’s true place in their world. It wasn’t here, in a ruined city eating energy rations with a gun slung over his shoulder. His place was before some assembly, fighting with words and striking his opponents with his thought and wit. Granted, few had a place in this war, but some were far more removed than others.
“How do you keep from succumbing to all of this hatred and pain?” Mirage asked, the mask falling for a moment, allowing Hound to see how lost and alone his spark had told him the mech had to be.
“With the support of my friends. We’re all there for each other; we’ll talk, cry, laugh, whatever’s needed. Even Prime needs the support of his own friends. You ever notice after a fight how he and Ironhide go off together with Elita-One and Chromia? No one’s alone in this.”
Mirage shuttered his optics, feeling a wrenching pain on his spark and internals. He needed a few precious seconds to calm himself before he did something he might regret. Whether that might be to snap at Hound, or accept the proffered friendship he wasn’t certain. Finally, he opened his optics again, the mask back on. “I don’t think that’s what I need, however. Friendship may give strength to you, but it has yet to serve me well.”
Hound wouldn’t press, he couldn’t. He’d pushed and seen that moment Mirage almost faltered. If he kept it up, he’d only make Mirage defensive and possibly ruin his chances of getting under the metaphorical crack in Mirage’s armor. Mirage would come around given time; Hound just had to wait for his chance.
---
Hours later found Mirage alone with his frustration mounting. Hound had spent the first half of the day showing him some of his own tricks for tracking before going off and leaving Mirage alone to try and find the scout. Mirage found some small hint here or there, some recently disturbed rubble or a smear on the side of a building from a hand using it for support. What irked him even more was that Hound was likely leaving this trail on purpose.
Mirage’s style wasn’t like his. Hound used smell, followed clues, and pursued his prey, Mirage had been more of one to guess where his target would be and lie in wait for it to come to him. Hound was more erratic than even a turbofox and Mirage was reaching the end of his patience looking for his wayward instructor. If he didn’t find Hound before they had to rest for the night, he’d have to endure the humiliation of failing his test in tracking.
Mirage cursed lowly, barely stopping himself from kicking something. If Hound was nearby, which was unlikely, he’d alert the scout to his presence if he made too much noise. He froze as something crashed somewhere ahead of him. He activated his electro disruptor, unwilling to chance that the noise came from Hound. He went ahead to investigate despite the wrenching of his spark.
More crashes and laughter met his audios as he got closer, and he even picked of the sound of laserfire. Finally he was close enough to see who was making all of the noise and dread wrapped it’s cold hand around his spark. There was a party of Decepticons, fifteen in total, one a trine of seekers, the rest heavyset grounders. They were quite bold to be in Iacon’s outskirts. Did they not care about possibly being detected by Autobots? Then again, they could be bold with seekers near. Fliers had an entire dimension of movement to themselves and Decepticon seekers never hesitated to use that advantage to bomb ground bound Autobots.
::Hound, I’ve encounted a party of Decepticons, three seekers and twelve grounders. They appear to be here only for wanton destruction. Shall I keep watching them?:: Mirage asked over their communication line. He hunched down as laser pistols and rifles were waved through the air, striking the sides of buildings and windows.
::Yes, doesn’t matter what they’re here for, we need to keep an optic on them. Send a message to base as well, they’ll tell you the same, but it’s good to keep everyone in the loop::
::Understood, I’ll contact base right now::
::Before you go, what’s your position? I’ll be there in a breem or two and provide you some support::
Mirage was about to send his coordinates, but the sound of strained metal above him broke his concentration on the task. He looked up, optics widening as a heavy sign above him groaned. A laser struck one of the supports for it and Mirage realized it must have become the target for the trigger happy Decepticons.
Something snapped and the sign swung down. Mirage broke from his frozen state and tried to scramble away. He almost made it out of the sign’s path, but felt the weight of metal and glass fall down upon him. He’d had only an instant to register it had fallen on him before he was knocked out.
---
When Mirage came to the first thing he felt was cold metal on his cheek. He shifted and groaned, realizing he was lying on his side. The first sight his optics met when they came online was a sea of legs and a storm gray floor. He quickly scanned the area, broken and upturned tables, chairs, and benches. From the décor of his surroundings, he guessed it was an old restaurant that had been abandoned long ago.
“Oh look, our friend’s awake,” a voice said from above Mirage. There was a shifting of bodies and Mirage knew instantly it was the Decepticons he’d discovered that surrounded him. He tried to bolt up, maybe get away, but he couldn’t bring his arms out in front of him. He jerked at his wrists, but they stopped short with the cables binding them behind his back.
Mirage refused to acknowledge the Decepticons while he lay at their feet. He managed to lever himself so that he was sitting before looking up at them. His efforts were for nothing as one of the Decepticons kicked out at him, throwing him onto his back.
“Have a nice nap, Autobot?” the Decepticon who’d just kicked him asked. He was one of the largest of the assembled mechs and easily several times heavier than Mirage as well as two heads taller than him. He was painted dark green with twin indigo stripes running up his chassis and down the length of his arms. He had a simple rounded helm much like Prowl and Ratchet, and a purple visor covered his optics. Mirage figured he must have made himself some sort of impromptu ringleader of the assembled Decepticons, odd considering Seekers were known to be proud and distant with non-fliers and would mostly stick with other fliers. At the very least he would have expected them to try and lead the group. Maybe he could use it to his advantage if they were somehow resentful of this arrangement.
“I can’t say it was especially restful,” Mirage said, keeping his tone even. Right now it was best if he avoided angering his captors, and it was tricky figuring out what would offend them the least.
The head mech smirked. “Pity,” he said. “You gonna tell us what you were doing spying on us?”
“Wouldn’t you watch if you came upon a group of Autobots carousing in Decepticon territory?”
“Nah, I’d just shoot ‘em and leave one to answer my questions. Depending how they answered me, I might even be nice enough to kill them quickly instead of taking them back to face our leader. I’m a damn blessing compared to him.”
Mirage bit back a smart retort. “From the stories I have heard, that does not seem a faulty assessment. I have answered your first question, regardless. I watched you because you were here; it would be foolish to leave an enemy when they strayed so near Autobot territory.”
“Fine, any other Autobots around? Are there gonna be more?”
“No, I’m the only one out here.” Mirage figured it would be best to lie and try to inspire overconfidence in them. Hopefully they’d become more reckless and take their time with him if they thought they had the time to tease and torment him without retaliation.
A pede lifted and pressed down on his front, pressing him between it and the unforgiving floor. Mirage did not let any of his distress show, but winced as plating creaked and groan. “Just you? Are you sure? If you lie, things’ll be much worse for you.”
“I’m not, I swear!” Mirage gasped, afraid he may be crushed under the mech. “I didn’t have the time to speak with anyone.
The mech lifted his pede and reached down for Mirage. He grabbed him by his shoulder and lifted him before shoving him against the wall. “I’m not all too convinced yet, but I know how to make nobles like you talk.”
Mirage’s optics widened, shocked that the mech knew of his former status. He twisted and tugged at his bond wrists to no avail. Somehow he knew this revelation bode an even worse ill for him.
The mech’s grin widened, but was tinged with something bitter. “I’ve seen your face before. Megatron has a price on your head. You took out twenty eight soldiers and two officers back in the Towers attack. You know who any of those mechs were?”
Mirage wished he could, because he feared the mech’s reaction when he answered to the contrary. “No, I don’t know any of their names.” He bit back a cry as a fist struck his cheek.
“It’s just like a noble to not give a damn about anyone else.” The mech pressed closer to Mirage, their nasal ridges almost touching. “One of the mechs you killed was named Refractor; he was my brother, my little brother.”
Mirage was struck with a horrible fear. He knew how losing a loved one could twist a mech’s spark into something hateful and ugly. That it was a Decepticon who had directed those feelings onto him only worsened the situation.
“He was shot in the back. You such a coward, Autobot, that you can’t even fight fair?” The Decepticon slammed Mirage back into the wall.
“He laughed as he killed weaponless civilians! They all did. Where was the fairness in that? Was I to lie down and die as they tore apart our homes?” Mirage was smacked so hard he was thrown to the ground. He cried out as he was kicked in the midsection several times.
“Yes! You should die, you slagger!” He stopped his assault, grinning with malice as Mirage curled up on his side and tried to protect his middle. “Coward,” he sneered. “You think this is painful? You haven’t faced nothing yet.” He pulled Mirage up, holding him by the neck and pinning him against the wall.
Mirage kicked out at his assailant, desperate for reprieve. The Decepticon ignored the kicks, pressing tighter against Mirage’s neck. Behind him the other Decepticons hollered their approval and encouragements.
With his free hand the Decepticon started punching Mirage, raining blow after blow down on him. Mirage swung his knee the elbow joint of the arm holding him suspended. The limb reflexively flinched, and Mirage dropped to the floor on his side. He swung a leg out, catching the Decepticon by the back of a knee. The leg buckled and he struck out again, catching the mech in the midsection.
The other assembled Decepticons realized Mirage might overpower their comrade and rushed forward, piling on Mirage and grabbing at him. Mirage struggled between them, striking out with his legs, but to no avail. He was pulled up with an arm curled around his neck.
“We’ve got a little firecracker here,” one of the Decepticons snickered. “Is he too much for you, Recoil?”
The mech who had been beating Mirage snarled and looked ready to hit his teammate. “Maybe you wanna try letting him go and face him alone?”
“I’ll pass on that. He’s a slippery little glitch. I don’t want him going invisible and shooting me in the back. I’ll hold him for you, how’s that?”
“Fine by me,” Recoil said. He stalked forward and grabbed Mirage by a leg. The horrifying image of the dead family from yesterday flashed through Mirage’s CPU and he was filled with a horrible dread.
“No!” he cried out, twisting in the hold the two mechs had on him, but both held tight. He gasped as a fist slammed into the side of his knee joint and his vocalizer crackled with static as pain raced up his leg. Although Mirage wasn’t a medic, he was pretty certain the joint had been knocked out of alignment. It was still a mixed relief for him when Recoil dropped his leg; physical pain was easier for him to handle.
“Let ‘im go, Synch, and we’ll see how tough he is with only a leg to stand on,” Recoil said, sneering. The other Decepticons chuckled, gathered in a tight circle and blocking Mirage’s escape.
Mirage almost fell when he was released, but caught himself on his good leg and kept the other raised off the ground. If he got out of this, he’d have a smart retort for anyone who teased his ‘perfect posture’. Right now it was all of those lessons in good posture and proper balance that kept him upright and still.
A devious grin spread over Recoil’s lips and he kicked a foot out at Mirage, who jumped back. Mirage wobbled as he landed on only one pede and kept the other off the ground. Recoil reached out again as though to push him and Mirage stumbled back, but Recoil kept advancing, laughing as Mirage stumbled away from him.
The laughter only intensified when Mirage finally lost his balance and fell on his back. A pede landed on his injured knee and pressed down. Mirage thought he was going to pass out as white hot agony race up his leg. Recoil only pressed harder, finally earning a scream. Mirage was certain his leg was being crushed, feeling a terrible, sickening sensation of wires and support struts grinding together.
Finally Recoil relented, easing off of Mirage. Mirage lay panting as his limbs trembled. He almost wished the Decepticons would just shoot him; that would be better than being toyed with in this manner.
All heads shot up as the doors to the old restaurant they were in were flung open. Mirage smiled at the sight of Hound standing in the archway of the double doors with at least forty Autobots behind him, all with their weapons trained on the Decepticons. “You creeps better step away from Mirage now before you find out what a mech looks like with a few dozen holes in his chassis,” Hound said. Mirage was surprised Hound could actually be menacing given the proper provocation.
The Decepticons slowly stepped back, Recoil doing so with a very dark and ugly look. Mirage turned on his front, trembling as he tried to use his good leg to stand. Without the use of his arms, it was a useless endeavor.
Seeing Mirage’s struggle, Hound cautiously approached him while keeping an optic on the Decepticons. The group backed away under the glares of the other Autobots gathered at the doors. None were foolhardy enough to try anything under the scrutiny of so many.
Hound kneeled by Mirage, pulling him up and supporting him. He glared at the gathered Decepticons. “The key for his cuffs?” He held out his hand, his other wrapped around Mirage’s waist. Normally such close contact would have been embarrassing and uncomfortable for Mirage, but now he took solace in the safety of Hound’s presence.
Recoil glowered but pulled a small square key card for the lock on Mirage’s cuffs. He tossed it and Hound lurched forward to catch it. Mirage winced as his sore body was jostled by the movement. Hound adjusted his hold and unlocked the cuffs around Mirage’s wrists, letting them clatter to the floor.
Mirage let out a small sigh of relief and wrapped an arm around Hound’s shoulder, leaning into him as Hound helped support him. They backed towards the entrance, Hound with his rifle trained on the Decepticons until he’d closed the doors.
“I didn’t think help would come so quickly, how long did those Decepticons have me?” Mirage asked as Hound helped him away, the rest of the Autobots remaining strangely silent.
Hound grinned. “They didn’t. I called in for help as soon as your comm went silent, but we’ve still got a full cycle before back up arrives.”
Mirage looked back at the assembled group in confusion. “But they’re-”
“Not really there. I’ve got a hologram projector.” Hound chuckled. “And the ‘Cons never stop falling for it. We’d better find a place to hide quickly though, they might get bold and attack us anyway, and then I really won’t be fooling them.”
Hound led Mirage to an alley between what looked to be two office buildings, and they settled down at the very end of it. “Why are we hiding so close to the Decepticons? They’re sure to find us if we stay here,” Mirage said, anxious and watchful of the sky and the mouth of the alley.
“You’re not going far in your condition. Besides, in my experience when hiding from ‘Cons they’ll usually expect you to get as far away from them as fast as you can. They rarely think to search from the start. We’ll stay under my holo, and if any of them come, use your electro disruptor to hide.”
“That isn’t going to deter them. They’ll know you wouldn’t leave me. Even if they don’t figure that out, I can’t just let you get killed by them.”
“We’re both getting out of this alive. Trust me.”
Mirage sighed, deciding not to continue arguing. There was at least one thing Hound was right about, Mirage wasn’t getting far with his knee, so all he could do was trust Hound; he didn’t have any other choice, and was dependent on Hound’s experience and skills in his injured state. He wouldn’t admit how terrified that made him and instead buried those feelings away.
For half a cycle they watched the Decepticons go back and forth outside of the alley looking for them while grumbling and growling. Every time he heard seeker engines whine above or the heavy pedefalls of the other ground mechs Mirage fought not to flinch. He thought of the brutal attack on his home, the offline frames from yesterday, and his own recent treatment.
“Hound-”
A hand pressed against his mouth and Hound gently shushed him. “Someone’s coming,” he murmured, watching the mouth of the alley.
“-gone. It’s time to head back to base. It’s not a big loss.”
There was the sound of a struggle, but neither Hound nor Mirage could see what the Decepticons outside of the alley were doing. “It wasn’t your damn brother who died, was it? You can go back if you want, but I’m not leaving until that little scrap pile is dead. They couldn’t have gotten far with him in that condition.”
“Stormfront’s trine hasn’t seen anything of those Autobots, they’re all gone. Let it go.”
“They’re here! Somewhere, I know it,” Recoil hissed. “I can’t let him go this easy. ‘Fractor wouldn’t let him go if it had been me.”
Mirage knew that feeling better than anybody, the pain and hate of losing a loved one and facing their killer. Killer; that wasn’t a word he ever thought he’d associate with himself.
“And where do you suggest we start looking? This place is a fragging maze.”
There was a roar of rage; Mirage assumed it was Recoil. Hound placed a hand on Mirage’s shoulder, as though to reassure him, but Mirage thought maybe Hound was seeking the contact just as much for himself as his fellow soldier.
A pistol was pressed into his hand, and Mirage realized he was unarmed. The Decepticons had likely taken his rifle when he’d been knocked out. It may have been less fire power, but the pistol was some protection nonetheless.
“Then Stormfront and his trine can blow up the whole fragging place! They come out or they’ll die, either way we’ll get them!”
“How much longer for that back up?” Mirage whispered next to Hound’s audio.
“I’ll call in,” Hound said. A few seconds later he answered, “We’ve got five more breems.”
“Are they aware we may not last that long?”
“We’ll manage. We take out the mechs out there and hope those seekers won’t check in on them any time soon.”
“I don’t know if I can make it over there, at least not silently. Even if you help me over there, I’d still have to hop on my good leg, it’ll cause too much noise.”
Hound patted Mirage’s shoulder in reassurance. “Then you’ll stay here and I’ll take care of them. You go invisible, and don’t come out unless I give the word, got it?”
“Hound, are you insane? You don’t know how many Decepticons are out there, you may not be able to take all of them down.” Mirage latched onto Hound’s arm, refusing to let him do something that could get him killed. “We should wait for the others, you could be killed.”
The cheerful grin Hound gave Mirage made the noble want to smack him, and Mirage nearly did as Hound said, “I’ll have to remember that doing heroically stupid things is what gets you to reach out to mechs.” Hound started prying Mirage’s hands off him. “I can’t get you out of here, and I’m not leaving you to save myself. If they get the seekers to raze this place, neither of us’ll survive. I could die, but I’m willing to risk that if one of us can make it out.” Hound finally got out of Mirage’s hold and headed toward the mouth of the alley.
Mirage was left watching Hound’s retreating figure, feeling pathetically useless. Seeing no other options, he put up his cloak and smothered his urge to scream at Hound’s back about his ‘heroic stupidity’ as the scout had so aptly put it.