(no subject)
Browsing through my fic folder, I found a small piece I wrote on Wasp. It was never meant to go any further, but I thought I might share it with you guys anyway :)
Altruism was hardly one of Wasp’s strong suits, whether you were looking at his life before or after his incarceration. He had always looked out for number one - himself. That had been his motivation during his stint at boot camp and it had been the law of the proverbial jungle in the stockade. If he didn’t take care of himself, who would? If he didn’t keep up that attitude now, people would probably just walk all over him. And if he hadn’t relied on his wit and arrogance, he would probably be offline instead of merely broken.
He didn’t concern himself over others very often. In fact, he hardly did it at all. And he didn’t act in the name of justice, because justice didn’t exist in the real world, just in made up fantasy stories for the young. Autobots weren’t really heroes and he wasn’t really an Autobot any more, anyway, but…
Some part of him that he had buried under years of misfortune, torment and pain -the part of him that was inherently Autobot and, therefore, inherently good- wouldn’t let him sit idly by when others were being pushed around by those in command. He didn’t like that part of himself; every one should have to suffer the way he had suffered. He didn’t like it, but it was there. And it always would be.
It was the one part of his fractured mind he just couldn’t make himself part with.
Altruism was hardly one of Wasp’s strong suits, whether you were looking at his life before or after his incarceration. He had always looked out for number one - himself. That had been his motivation during his stint at boot camp and it had been the law of the proverbial jungle in the stockade. If he didn’t take care of himself, who would? If he didn’t keep up that attitude now, people would probably just walk all over him. And if he hadn’t relied on his wit and arrogance, he would probably be offline instead of merely broken.
He didn’t concern himself over others very often. In fact, he hardly did it at all. And he didn’t act in the name of justice, because justice didn’t exist in the real world, just in made up fantasy stories for the young. Autobots weren’t really heroes and he wasn’t really an Autobot any more, anyway, but…
Some part of him that he had buried under years of misfortune, torment and pain -the part of him that was inherently Autobot and, therefore, inherently good- wouldn’t let him sit idly by when others were being pushed around by those in command. He didn’t like that part of himself; every one should have to suffer the way he had suffered. He didn’t like it, but it was there. And it always would be.
It was the one part of his fractured mind he just couldn’t make himself part with.