The Gift, a Transformers Animated one shot
Title: The Gift
Universe: Transformers Animated, Mother Allspark AU
Rating: G
Characters: Allspark, Sentinel
Warnings: none
Notes: written for wicked3659, who's gotten quite good at giving me prompts when i demand them. ^_^
She understood her children now in a way she hadn’t before. For a time, she had been part of her children, literally shattered into fragments that brought them life, and now one of her children was part of her in the same way. She mourned that it had happened that way, but she understood them now.
She understood that things weren’t always as clear-cut for them as they were for her. Understood that they didn’t always know how to move past their pain and live life with the joy and happiness she had always planned for them.
She ached to be able to soothe the most injured of them and give them back the existence they should have known.
“You don’t look like much, you know.”
She knew the owner of the voice, though he had never spoken to her before. He had visited, often, since she returned to the Father-creator’s side and he stared at her for long moments before leaving again. He was, perhaps, the most wounded of any the children she had met-so hurt by his life experiences that he was unwilling to reach out to anyone again, but so terribly lonely. He wanted only to be forgiven and loved, and thought himself unworthy of both. So very like another son she had met on a world far from here.
She pulsed a warm welcome to him. She would always love him, even if he never understood.
“No, you certainly don’t look like you could have inspired poetry and religion and incited social uprising and war. You’re nothing more than a bunch of crystals in a pretty box. How can anyone even take that seriously?”
His anger filled the room almost palpably. She didn’t understand what was wrong, why he was upset with her, but she extended her energies toward him. He sank to his knees as she wrapped him in love and warmth. For the first time she could remember, she wished she had arms so she could hold one of her children.
“I read the reports, you know. When I was Magnus. You talked to the strike team that hid you. You could have talked to anyone-you could have talked to Megatron and the war would have been over!”
She wishes that were true, but the war would have raged on, no matter who had possession of her. Her children had only been safe from their own lust for her power when she was gone. She grieved, though, for how things had changed while she was in hiding.
“The war would have been over and there wouldn’t have been any Decepticon ship for us to go exploring on and Elita would still be here! She wouldn’t be some freak on some backwater organic rock!”
She poured her love and caring into him, wishing there were a better way to heal him. But her son needed to let out his pain and rage as much as he needed her love. If she was to be the outlet for it, she would endure.
“You could have saved her. YOU COULD HAVE SAVED HER!” His shout and his fist against the case she rests in are both unexpected, but not painful. She cannot be hurt physically in such a way and his words are simply the emotions he has suppressed for too long. It will do him good to purge this grief and anger, and so she will take the abuse in silence. “You could have saved her and everything would have been right.”
She held him, wrapped in her warmth and love as he dropped his head against her case in defeat. when his sorrow and rage were finally spent, she wrapped another feeling around him and held him tightly until one of her other children called him away.
She wondered if he would ever understand that she, at least, forgave him.
Universe: Transformers Animated, Mother Allspark AU
Rating: G
Characters: Allspark, Sentinel
Warnings: none
Notes: written for wicked3659, who's gotten quite good at giving me prompts when i demand them. ^_^
She understood her children now in a way she hadn’t before. For a time, she had been part of her children, literally shattered into fragments that brought them life, and now one of her children was part of her in the same way. She mourned that it had happened that way, but she understood them now.
She understood that things weren’t always as clear-cut for them as they were for her. Understood that they didn’t always know how to move past their pain and live life with the joy and happiness she had always planned for them.
She ached to be able to soothe the most injured of them and give them back the existence they should have known.
“You don’t look like much, you know.”
She knew the owner of the voice, though he had never spoken to her before. He had visited, often, since she returned to the Father-creator’s side and he stared at her for long moments before leaving again. He was, perhaps, the most wounded of any the children she had met-so hurt by his life experiences that he was unwilling to reach out to anyone again, but so terribly lonely. He wanted only to be forgiven and loved, and thought himself unworthy of both. So very like another son she had met on a world far from here.
She pulsed a warm welcome to him. She would always love him, even if he never understood.
“No, you certainly don’t look like you could have inspired poetry and religion and incited social uprising and war. You’re nothing more than a bunch of crystals in a pretty box. How can anyone even take that seriously?”
His anger filled the room almost palpably. She didn’t understand what was wrong, why he was upset with her, but she extended her energies toward him. He sank to his knees as she wrapped him in love and warmth. For the first time she could remember, she wished she had arms so she could hold one of her children.
“I read the reports, you know. When I was Magnus. You talked to the strike team that hid you. You could have talked to anyone-you could have talked to Megatron and the war would have been over!”
She wishes that were true, but the war would have raged on, no matter who had possession of her. Her children had only been safe from their own lust for her power when she was gone. She grieved, though, for how things had changed while she was in hiding.
“The war would have been over and there wouldn’t have been any Decepticon ship for us to go exploring on and Elita would still be here! She wouldn’t be some freak on some backwater organic rock!”
She poured her love and caring into him, wishing there were a better way to heal him. But her son needed to let out his pain and rage as much as he needed her love. If she was to be the outlet for it, she would endure.
“You could have saved her. YOU COULD HAVE SAVED HER!” His shout and his fist against the case she rests in are both unexpected, but not painful. She cannot be hurt physically in such a way and his words are simply the emotions he has suppressed for too long. It will do him good to purge this grief and anger, and so she will take the abuse in silence. “You could have saved her and everything would have been right.”
She held him, wrapped in her warmth and love as he dropped his head against her case in defeat. when his sorrow and rage were finally spent, she wrapped another feeling around him and held him tightly until one of her other children called him away.
She wondered if he would ever understand that she, at least, forgave him.