Memorial
Another G1 Drabble, courtesy of the TF Fic Prompt Generator.
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“Would you like to hold a memorial?”
Dead End started at the unexpected voice, his back thumping against the tree behind him. “W-what are you…?” Jumping to his pedes, he drew his rifle and aimed. “Hold it right there, Autobot!”
A black helm tipped to the side in mild curiosity. “I have no intentions of relocating at the present time.”
“You. You’re… Perceptor. The science bot.” The Stunticon’s stance was off-kilter, but his aim was true. “I should take you to Megatron.”
“Before or after the service?”
“What?”
“I asked you a moment ago if you would like to hold a memorial. You have yet to state ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”
“Memorial? For… What for?” A purple visor blinked, a visible sign of the confusion already clear in his voice.
Perceptor’s optics calmly, pointedly shifted to gaze at the dead rabbit near Dead End’s feet. “You seemed distraught.”
“I… I-I don’t care about some organic vermin!”
“The way you swerved in an attempt to avoid it speaks otherwise.”
Dead End snarled behind his mask and took a step closer, his weapon raising to aim at the Autobot’s head. “I was trying to hit it, you idiot!”
“Then why were you crying?”
The question caused the Decepticon to freeze for several moments. His hand began to shake. “I-I wasn’t…”
“It bothered you that you killed it without meaning to, did it not?” Perceptor moved himself closer this time, paying no mind to the barrel in his face. “That it was an accident?”
Dead End steadied his hand, held the grip securely. “It did not bother me that a filthy organic met its demise.”
“But you killed it. You killed it without meaning to. You snuffed out a life that could have had longer in this world.” His expression had not changed since he’d made himself known. He was calm, nonjudgmental, acceptant.
“I…” The gun wavered again.
Perceptor smiled, softly, the tiniest upward movement of the corners of his mouth. “It’s not like battle, is it? Then, you’re fighting. Killing others, causing them physical harm - that’s what battle is. But outside, by accident…”
Dead End’s vents hitched.
“It reminds you of your own mortality, does it not? How easily and unexpectedly a life can be lost.”
The Stunticon trembled.
“Would you like to hold a memorial?”
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Perceptor / Dead End / grieving
I've technically written more to this, but as I am not certain that it will be completed, you get the Drabble version for now.
This entry was originally posted at http://syntheticeuphoria.dreamwidth.org/3984.html.
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“Would you like to hold a memorial?”
Dead End started at the unexpected voice, his back thumping against the tree behind him. “W-what are you…?” Jumping to his pedes, he drew his rifle and aimed. “Hold it right there, Autobot!”
A black helm tipped to the side in mild curiosity. “I have no intentions of relocating at the present time.”
“You. You’re… Perceptor. The science bot.” The Stunticon’s stance was off-kilter, but his aim was true. “I should take you to Megatron.”
“Before or after the service?”
“What?”
“I asked you a moment ago if you would like to hold a memorial. You have yet to state ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”
“Memorial? For… What for?” A purple visor blinked, a visible sign of the confusion already clear in his voice.
Perceptor’s optics calmly, pointedly shifted to gaze at the dead rabbit near Dead End’s feet. “You seemed distraught.”
“I… I-I don’t care about some organic vermin!”
“The way you swerved in an attempt to avoid it speaks otherwise.”
Dead End snarled behind his mask and took a step closer, his weapon raising to aim at the Autobot’s head. “I was trying to hit it, you idiot!”
“Then why were you crying?”
The question caused the Decepticon to freeze for several moments. His hand began to shake. “I-I wasn’t…”
“It bothered you that you killed it without meaning to, did it not?” Perceptor moved himself closer this time, paying no mind to the barrel in his face. “That it was an accident?”
Dead End steadied his hand, held the grip securely. “It did not bother me that a filthy organic met its demise.”
“But you killed it. You killed it without meaning to. You snuffed out a life that could have had longer in this world.” His expression had not changed since he’d made himself known. He was calm, nonjudgmental, acceptant.
“I…” The gun wavered again.
Perceptor smiled, softly, the tiniest upward movement of the corners of his mouth. “It’s not like battle, is it? Then, you’re fighting. Killing others, causing them physical harm - that’s what battle is. But outside, by accident…”
Dead End’s vents hitched.
“It reminds you of your own mortality, does it not? How easily and unexpectedly a life can be lost.”
The Stunticon trembled.
“Would you like to hold a memorial?”
-----
Perceptor / Dead End / grieving
I've technically written more to this, but as I am not certain that it will be completed, you get the Drabble version for now.
This entry was originally posted at http://syntheticeuphoria.dreamwidth.org/3984.html.