A jolt like electricity goes through Swindle. It’s that scientist. One of the murder brigade.
For more than a few astoseconds, Swindle just can’t say anything. What can you say to one of your sparkmate’s killers?
Because, oh yes, the scientist might not have been at the scene but he was definitely ‘in on it,’ wasn’t he? Was it not his own counterpart - the Perceptor from Swindle’s universe - whose ‘injuries’ were supposed to be the ‘justification’ for the murder? This guy probably orchestrated the whole thing!
Anger flares in Swindle. The nerve of the mech! Comming him like this. A vision of his sparkmate is suddenly with him, vivid, his loveliness, right down to the touch and feel and scent of him. Swindle's spark twists, almost unbearably. He’s lost a whole part of himself because of this mech and others who reckon they’re sentient beings.
Swindle’s instinct is to yell: You miserable coward! You go tell those friends of yours - you go tell that white hero with the swords - that they’re all dead. Got it? Yes - you go tell your big white pal that the Combaticons are coming for him, and he’d better be scared, very scared .....
But that devious, intelligent part of Swindle’s programming restrains him. For starters, his partners are hardly ‘on board’ with this whole thing. And Cyclonus talks to Rodimus, and anything he says is bound to get back, and then Cyclonus will hunt him down and lock him up again. No. There's possibly something better. Perceptor - he may be a way in to the others.
Oh yes, Swindle can be a lot smarter than openly declaring his intent to wipe them out of the universe. That definitely isn’t how his sparkmate would have done things.
His spark contorts again at the thought of Swindle, and tears prick his optics. In some ways he doesn’t want to talk at all. What if Perceptor’s just going to ‘rub salt into the wound’ as that squishie would say? Torture him mentally about it - like Vortex would do. After all, these other universe bots - they don’t seem to be above that sort of thinking.
But he does speak.
// What do you want? I don’t need you to help break the sparkbond. It got broken. // Swindle can’t keep the savage hurt and bitter desolation he feels from coming out in his vocalizer.
The delayed response was expected and Perceptor just waited, not exactly sure how Swindle was going to take to being contacted by an Autobot of all people. But..it needed to be done and the sniper was willing to task the risk of being ignored or yelled at; at least he could say he tried in the long run.
Use to silence of varying kinds, the ex-scientist resumed work on the frame that lay before him, skilled fingers twisting wires and connecting them where they needed to go, aligning the plating perfectly so as to provide the best protection and not leave any openings. He wanted this done right, he wanted to make sure that his counterpart was going to be alright in his new frame and be able to hold his own if it came down to it.
Hopefully his effort would pay off.
Swindle finally spoke up and the sheer combination of emotions in his voice made Perceptor's hands falter slightly, optics flickering as he stared down at the empty shell on the table.
//....I am aware...and it is because of that....\\ He paused, optics shuttering as his vents cycled heavily. //I wanted to apologize for the actions of my..mate. What he did...there is no excusing it. It was never out intention to put your sparkmate in any danger. Things got out of hand very quickly.\\ Perceptor cared a lot for Drift, he did, but even he knew that killing the other Swindle..it had been out of line considering the unspoken rules of this place.
His head bowed a bit. //I know you do not want to hear it and I know you most likely hate all of us that were there, involved in Swindle's death directly or not, but I needed to let you know that what happened...\\ His voice broke off into static for a long moment before the ex-scientist forced himself to continue on the ramble worthy of his counterpart.
//I am truly sorry...and if I knew how I would bring him back this very moment.\\
Your MATE! Swindle gasps it out as he struggles to cope with this new revelation.
Perceptor keeps talking. Fury builds in Swindle, he’s thinking. Your MATE! Well you go tell your MATE there’s no apologies. No quarter. You go tell him I know who he is and I’m gonna find him, and the last thing he will ever see is a gun pointing at his spark, HELD BY ME!
He trembles with rage, the words on the tip of his glossa. But Perceptor keeps talking, and there’s a tone to the scientist's voice in which Swindle can feel the compassion, the understanding. It can't help but touch him, so much what he needed from his gestalt partners - and so absolutely what he did not get.
Neither does the genuine contrition bypass Swindle. The scientist’s words play deep into that non Combaticon side of Swindle’s programming, past even that devious, conniving side which made him a success with the Decepticons. It reaches a part of him which once strove only to be a successful businessmech, and not to get tied up with dark types, or go to war, or spend millions of years in jail, or join gestalts.
Swindle has never been more divided. A grudging but deep respect wars with his vengeful instincts as a Combaticon, as confused emotions render him speechless. He finds himself closing the gestalt bond, wanting to side more with the scientist, to warm to his empathy. And then Perceptor goes and says - that last and from the darkest pit of despair, hope rises like a phoenix.
He whispers: // Well maybe you could! You know - maybe if I went down to the caves and got the pieces, you could - do something, Perceptor! //
Swindle’s spark aches with a sudden overwhelming longing. Oh, if only! Why - that would make up for everything. Vengeance is suddenly obsolete, eclipsed absolutely by this new possibility.
Swindle bursts out: // You’re a scientist, Perceptor. A genius! You can do like - amazing things. Like - well - like our Perceptor from our Universe. I never didn’t think he was a genius too, even if he was well - you know - on the other side. //
He babbles on: // You could do it, Perceptor! I know you could. Look - if you did that I’d forget all about your mate did. I would. I promise. I just ... want him back. That’s all ....Perceptor .... that's all .... I just want him back .... //
His voice trails off on a plaintive note of desperation.
The sniper's optics shudder as Swindle begins to respond, going on about how if anyone had the potential to do it, it was him. His spark ached for the other, he couldn't help it. It was clear that the death of the other Swindle had taken its toll on this version of the peddler and Perceptor could only imagine the turmoil he was going through.
And he had just given Swindle a glimmer of hope.
Optics slowly came back online, a hand resting over the empty sparkcasing of his counterpart's new frame, the ex-scientist conflicted. Anything he said now would either upset Swindle further or enrage him and neither of those were things that he wanted.
//...Swindle I...\\ He paused, trying to gather himself properly as his processor worked to put together the correct words. //...Even I do not have the ability to bring a bot back to life...all the knowledge in the universe does not grant me the power to play Primus.\\ His voice was soft, words gentle and it was clear just how horrible he felt, how much he wanted to help the other. //I...and even if there was something different about this place, about this Nexus that could potentially make it possible....I do not have enough knowledge of this place to even know where to begin.\\
Work was forgotten as Perceptor lifted a hand to rub at his forehead, optics dim as his voice broke with a bit of static.
//..I am truly sorry, Swindle..but I do not even know how to go about something of that complexity. Creating something in the lab...it is far different from restoring a life.\\
// You could try ....you could at least try .... // But Swindle had heard the hopelessness in the scientist’s voice and he knew what that meant. That there was no coming back. For his other self.
His spark twisted. He burst out: // Well where does that leave me then? Do you know what it’s like, having a broken sparkbond, Perceptor? Do you know how much it hurts? And I didn’t even have .... //
Swindle paused and leaned heavily against a rock, his spark aching, his frame shaking miserably. // I didn’t even have a medic for the repair. It’s not like it is for you lot, you know, all nice and caring. I had to go through this on my own, Decepticons don't give pit about this sort of thing. //
Swindle’s spark twisted again and he started to cry, not able to disguise the fact that this was occurring and not caring, even if it was an Autobot on the other end of the comm.
He didn’t care if Perceptor was upset himself, or if he could see how devastated he was, in fact, he wanted him to see it, to feel his pain. To know just how much a bunch of mechs who considered themselves the 'pillars of righteousness' had ruined someone else’s life. To know just how much damage he and his mate and their little lynch mob had done.
*He raged, tears of anger:*// Something went wrong with the repair program .... and now I just remember all this stuff .... and I have these dreams .... and it hurts so much ....you have no slaggin' idea. //
Brushing away tears and stomping across to the secret subspace cabinet, Swindle opened it and hauled out a cube of high grade. It had made him feel better earlier, he surmised, and it could do so again now.
//I..do not have any idea what it feels like to have it broken but I have had mine cut off and with as much as that hurt, I can only imagine the intensified pain from having it broken.\\ His voice stayed soft, sincere, the sniper not aiming to upset the 'Con; no, he had contacted him to try and help, in whatever way he could.
//I cannot promise anything, Swindle, but..I will look into it and I will ask my counterpart--the one from your universe--to assist me once I have him in his new frame.\\ Perceptor really had no idea where to even start and part of him felt like he was lying because he was fairly certain it wouldn't work...
But he had to do something.
Surprise flickered through his optics as he heard the other begin to cry, spark aching just a bit as his gaze lowered and dimmed, the ex-scientist glancing off to the side.
//....I...If you would allow me...I could see about potentially fixing whatever got damaged in the repair program. I would understand if you do not want me coming near you though..\\
Swindle ripped the top off the cube, took a large sip and stared miserably at the open cabinet. Anger raged in him, he was tempted to yell that no he didn't want Perceptor near him, and that he and his cronies had all better prepare for the worst.
But there was that kindness in the voice again, that caring which Swindle was so unused to. It was disarming - making him think - most uncharacteristically - that maybe two wrongs did not make a right.
Besides, his team mates were not interested. Swindle simmered at that, also. Well, maybe it would be more irksome for Vortex for him to say that he'd decided against payback for the time being. The copter would be sorry, once his usual lust for violence returned.
And - he did want this fixed. The thought of having to go through the rest of his days suffering wrenching pain every time he thought of Swindle was appalling. And, in the background, was undeniably the idea that this was a way of getting to the other one - the one who did it - if he changed his mind.
// Yeah - he muttered - I'd like you to do that. //
A glint of blue right from the back of the cabinet caught Swindle's optics, then. Frowning, he reached inside. His fingers closed around the vial of Zydrate he had hidden in there after the row he’d had with Swindle on that dreadful day he left the caves.
Swindle had forgotten all about it. Now, he drew it out slowly and held it up, watching the reflections dance off it, remembering vaguely that Fireflight had said this stuff was 'pretty.' His spark twisted at the notion that this vial was all he had to remember his sparkmate by. He lowered his hand, clutching it.
// Yeah - I figure you owe me one,// Swindle said. // You see - it's not just that he - died. *Swindle winced at the word.* // You said the bonds were gonna co-exist. They didn't. The whole thing - it went wrong. It made me get more into the gestalt and him more into things he shouldn't. That's why I wanted you to help me break the bond - you know - in a controlled way. I thought that might make it better for everyone. //
// But you wouldn't. It ended up like this. So - yeah - I'd like it if you helped me now.//
Perceptor flinched a bit and almost nodded but it would have been pointless considering Swindle could not see him.
//Alright...when would you like me to come to you?\\ Part of him was hesitant, if only because he wasn't sure how the 'Con was going to act considering everything that had happened. But, at the same time, he also knew he could handle himself should things go bad and, if all else failed, distress signals were wonderful things.
//Outside of work on my counterpart's frame I do not have anything going on. And given....Is it safe to assume that you want this fixed as soon as possible?\\
Swindle could feel the vial - the only connection to his so much loved sparkmate - warm in his hand. A long spasm of aching longing passed through his spark and he let out an audible cry, the pain of being no longer attached to Swindle almost too much to bear.
// I'd like you to come as soon as possible, // he whimpered. // Its that place by the river. You know - like before. //
Swindle sat back heavily and leaned back against the rock, shuttering his optics, his fingers closing around the vial.
// It doesn't matter if it - hurts, // he said, // I've got something to take away the pain. //
He would, he thought, knock the zydrate back before the scientist arrived. That way he'd be all happy and compliant, wouldn't get the urge to do anything not conducive to the process. Like rave on that the other's mate was a murdering hypocrite, and threaten to kill him. For instance.
No - now he had made the decision to let Perceptor help him, Swindle had no wish to prove an obstructive or difficult patient. Or to suffer any more unnecessary agony. Besides, his sparkmate would, he imagined, perhaps have been pleased at such a use of his concoction. Even if he was a little belated in agreeing to ingest it.
For as much as he was worried that Swindle was going to try something, the complete state of brokenness that the other seemed to be in helped his desire to do some good push those doubts aside. The other was distraught, so very much so, and Perceptor knew that, in a roundabout way, he was to blame and therefore he needed to do something to fix it.
So he would.
//...Please be careful until I arrive, Swindle.\\ What the other had said...the sniper was fairly certain he knew what Swindle had to take away the pain. But he didn't want to dwell on that. He would go and help in whatever way he could. Simple as that.
// I will,// Swindle said weakly. Then he cut the comm.
Breaking the top off the vial, Swindle cast it to one side. Immediately, a pungent aroma assaulted the Combaticon's olfactory sensors and his optics widened in surprise. Holding the vial up, he again examined the contents.
Having been a dealer of entities far from legal before the war, Swindle was no stranger to zydrate. Or to its several varieties. And this .... well - this was a particularly potent version. Quite nasty, actually. And now Swindle remembered what Fireflight had said about Silverbolt's 'cluster addiction.' "You wanted me to take this?" he murmured incredulously.
Yet, Swindle could feel no anger, or betrayal, or disappointment towards his dead counterpart. Only an even greater love than before, and a great sorrow that Swindle had wanted him there so much he was willing to go to these measures, and a terrible anguish that he had not complied.
It made his spark spasm with fresh, unbearable pain, and he bent over, clutching at his chest, miserable beyond all reason, missing his alternate self more than ever.
I could take this now, he thought. Then I'll be hooked on it, and Perceptor will have to get me more, and then maybe I can take enough in one go to end this altogether ..... And something came back to him, a fragment of memory, a wish to follow his sparkmate. Something he had wanted, just before Swindle died.
But his other programming - that of the gestalt - could not let Swindle forget he was a part of that too. Such an act would damage his team, irreparably. And no matter how angry he was with Vortex and Blast Off, no matter that they were actually to blame for his departure from the caves, he knew that he could never do such a thing.
Replacing the cap, the smallest Combaticon simply held the vial once more in his hand and wept silently, awaiting Perceptor's arrival.
The bounty hunter had needed to drive off the beaten path where he could be alone but not distracted by the bustle of town. He considered returning to the Death's Head after leaving Slipstream's apartment but he knew the seemingly endless projects littered around his living space would only clutter his thoughts. He needs an atmosphere that allows him to think clearly and to plan how to approach the Swindle situation. He wants to confront the Autobot Drift, but he doesn't want to do so unprepared, plus there was the task of locating the elusive fragger.
He follows the almost-path along the river, wheels grinding through the dirt, rocks and twigs. He curses as the underside of him scrapes the ground. His low profile design is not built for nature but he refuses to change his style just to accommodate Nexus's primitive landscape.
As he cruises slowly, he sees a figure in the distance, a bot with a familiar paint job. His spark jumps then twists a little. As he gets closer, the bot's colors and shapes become clearer, and there's an unmistakable cannon on the mech's arm. Urgently flipping into robot mode, he approaches cautiously but curiously. Is he halucinating? Do ghosts exist in Nexus? He approaches from behind but he makes his steps heard, not wanting to surprise the improbable mech.
Swindle had offlined his optics - and some other systems - and was leaned back against the rockface, his arms folded across his chest, trying to still the pain in his spark. Hearing a vehicle approaching, followed by sounds of transformation, he was surprised that Perceptor had arrived so soon.
He remembered that the scientist did not have a vehicle mode just as he heard his name spoken.
Swindle's systems snapped back online and he was on his feet in an instant, as into view came a mech he had never before seen in all the time he had been in the Nexus. Large green, slim but very powerful looking, the other was regarding Swindle as though he were familiar, known to him somehow.
Swindle's weakened state did not prevent him from drawing weapons, instantly. Not that the mech had done anything hostile, but his appearance here was - well - something of a surprise. Besides which, Swindle could not keep his optics off the large hook which protruded from the mech's right arm.
"Your business?" he said, powering the canon as he studied the newcomer.
As the hunter draws closer and the familiar mech rises to face him, it becomes evident that he's not as familiar as he thought. Lockdown's not certain if he feels sadness or relief at this, but he doesn't have much time to ponder it as his presence has clearly startled the mech.
Easy pal, I don't mean any harm. He looks the Combaticon over head to pede, noting with a heavy spark how strikingly similar he is to his departed friend. This mech is obviously from another verse, which makes him a stranger to the hunter, but Lockdown still feels a distant camaraderie to him. He's not about to invite the fragger to an all-night low-grade binge, but he's not going to pull a weapon on him either.
You're...He speaks in a calm tone, presenting his words like a peace offering.
...his counterpart, ain't ya.
He questions how vague that might come across. He has no idea if this Swindle has ever met the other Swindle or if he's even been in Nexus long enough to know about the cross-universe thing.
Now Swindle was on his feet, he felt quite weak, and, staggered a little. Leaning against a nearby rock, he cycled air rapidly, wishing he was not in the throws of an incomplete spark repair, and could appear more con like than this.
For Swindle felt the need to make a good impression. In the wake of Megatron's departure and the apathetic attitude of his team mates, had he not raved on to Rumble earlier about enlisting other 'cons in his quest for vengeance? The Decepticon crest stood out sharply on this new mech's chest, and he had a tough 'take no pit' aura about him - aided much, of course, by the spikes on his shoulder and that hook.. It seemed almost like fate, him showing up like this.
The mech had shown no hostility. In fact, Swindle sensed quite the reverse, and he almost warmed to him. Perhaps this was because the guy looked to be of the same alloys and built by whatever had designed - his sparkmate. Swindle's chest ached at that realization, and he put a hand to it and held himself, wincing softly.
At the question, he knew also, somehow, that the big mech was referring to Swindle. He tried to remember if his alternate self had mentioned anyone from his verse. Something about a bounty hunter, Swindle thought he heard once. He wished he could remember.
He had no qualms about answering the mech. "I was his counterpart," he whispered. "When he was alive ...." he hesitated, his voice wavery.
Lockdown had forgotten he was wearing his 'con symbol until Swindle glanced at it. Typically he doesn't wear any symbol unless it's necessary for a job, but he had put it on earlier simply to get a laugh out of Slipstream, and then had forgotten to take it off.
The hunter watches curiously as the mech struggles both physically and psychologically. Nexus is obviously not treating this mech well. When Swindle answers his question, Lockdown freezes a moment, double checking his audio to make certain he had heard him right.
Sparkemate?
He had no idea. Not only that his Swindle was involved so deeply with...himself, but that he was the type to sparkbond at all. The hunter always figured the peddler had the same view on sparkbonding as he did: that connecting yourself to another so invasively was not conducive to either of their professions. But obviously Lockdown is wrong, assuming this Swindle is telling the truth. He supposes it logical that Swindle's preferred sparkmate would be himself. Plus the combaticon's condition screams of a broken bond--this is evidence enough to convince Lockdown that he's telling the truth.
I'm--His gaze drops to the ground as his hand rubs over the back of his neck. He's not very good at sympathy. I'm sorry to hear that.
Reaching into subspace, he pulls out a cube of energon.
He was a business partner a'mine, and...well, he was a friend too.
He keeps his movements slow and easy as he approaches the broken mech, offering the cube to him.
For more than a few astoseconds, Swindle just can’t say anything. What can you say to one of your sparkmate’s killers?
Because, oh yes, the scientist might not have been at the scene but he was definitely ‘in on it,’ wasn’t he? Was it not his own counterpart - the Perceptor from Swindle’s universe - whose ‘injuries’ were supposed to be the ‘justification’ for the murder? This guy probably orchestrated the whole thing!
Anger flares in Swindle. The nerve of the mech! Comming him like this. A vision of his sparkmate is suddenly with him, vivid, his loveliness, right down to the touch and feel and scent of him. Swindle's spark twists, almost unbearably. He’s lost a whole part of himself because of this mech and others who reckon they’re sentient beings.
Swindle’s instinct is to yell: You miserable coward! You go tell those friends of yours - you go tell that white hero with the swords - that they’re all dead. Got it? Yes - you go tell your big white pal that the Combaticons are coming for him, and he’d better be scared, very scared .....
But that devious, intelligent part of Swindle’s programming restrains him. For starters, his partners are hardly ‘on board’ with this whole thing. And Cyclonus talks to Rodimus, and anything he says is bound to get back, and then Cyclonus will hunt him down and lock him up again. No. There's possibly something better. Perceptor - he may be a way in to the others.
Oh yes, Swindle can be a lot smarter than openly declaring his intent to wipe them out of the universe. That definitely isn’t how his sparkmate would have done things.
His spark contorts again at the thought of Swindle, and tears prick his optics. In some ways he doesn’t want to talk at all. What if Perceptor’s just going to ‘rub salt into the wound’ as that squishie would say? Torture him mentally about it - like Vortex would do. After all, these other universe bots - they don’t seem to be above that sort of thinking.
But he does speak.
// What do you want? I don’t need you to help break the sparkbond. It got broken. // Swindle can’t keep the savage hurt and bitter desolation he feels from coming out in his vocalizer.
Reply
The delayed response was expected and Perceptor just waited, not exactly sure how Swindle was going to take to being contacted by an Autobot of all people. But..it needed to be done and the sniper was willing to task the risk of being ignored or yelled at; at least he could say he tried in the long run.
Use to silence of varying kinds, the ex-scientist resumed work on the frame that lay before him, skilled fingers twisting wires and connecting them where they needed to go, aligning the plating perfectly so as to provide the best protection and not leave any openings. He wanted this done right, he wanted to make sure that his counterpart was going to be alright in his new frame and be able to hold his own if it came down to it.
Hopefully his effort would pay off.
Swindle finally spoke up and the sheer combination of emotions in his voice made Perceptor's hands falter slightly, optics flickering as he stared down at the empty shell on the table.
//....I am aware...and it is because of that....\\ He paused, optics shuttering as his vents cycled heavily. //I wanted to apologize for the actions of my..mate. What he did...there is no excusing it. It was never out intention to put your sparkmate in any danger. Things got out of hand very quickly.\\ Perceptor cared a lot for Drift, he did, but even he knew that killing the other Swindle..it had been out of line considering the unspoken rules of this place.
His head bowed a bit. //I know you do not want to hear it and I know you most likely hate all of us that were there, involved in Swindle's death directly or not, but I needed to let you know that what happened...\\ His voice broke off into static for a long moment before the ex-scientist forced himself to continue on the ramble worthy of his counterpart.
//I am truly sorry...and if I knew how I would bring him back this very moment.\\
Reply
Your MATE! Swindle gasps it out as he struggles to cope with this new revelation.
Perceptor keeps talking. Fury builds in Swindle, he’s thinking. Your MATE! Well you go tell your MATE there’s no apologies. No quarter. You go tell him I know who he is and I’m gonna find him, and the last thing he will ever see is a gun pointing at his spark, HELD BY ME!
He trembles with rage, the words on the tip of his glossa. But Perceptor keeps talking, and there’s a tone to the scientist's voice in which Swindle can feel the compassion, the understanding. It can't help but touch him, so much what he needed from his gestalt partners - and so absolutely what he did not get.
Neither does the genuine contrition bypass Swindle. The scientist’s words play deep into that non Combaticon side of Swindle’s programming, past even that devious, conniving side which made him a success with the Decepticons. It reaches a part of him which once strove only to be a successful businessmech, and not to get tied up with dark types, or go to war, or spend millions of years in jail, or join gestalts.
Swindle has never been more divided. A grudging but deep respect wars with his vengeful instincts as a Combaticon, as confused emotions render him speechless. He finds himself closing the gestalt bond, wanting to side more with the scientist, to warm to his empathy. And then Perceptor goes and says - that last and from the darkest pit of despair, hope rises like a phoenix.
He whispers: // Well maybe you could! You know - maybe if I went down to the caves and got the pieces, you could - do something, Perceptor! //
Swindle’s spark aches with a sudden overwhelming longing. Oh, if only! Why - that would make up for everything. Vengeance is suddenly obsolete, eclipsed absolutely by this new possibility.
Swindle bursts out: // You’re a scientist, Perceptor. A genius! You can do like - amazing things. Like - well - like our Perceptor from our Universe. I never didn’t think he was a genius too, even if he was well - you know - on the other side. //
He babbles on: // You could do it, Perceptor! I know you could. Look - if you did that I’d forget all about your mate did. I would. I promise. I just ... want him back. That’s all ....Perceptor .... that's all .... I just want him back .... //
His voice trails off on a plaintive note of desperation.
Reply
Primus he should have worded that better.
The sniper's optics shudder as Swindle begins to respond, going on about how if anyone had the potential to do it, it was him. His spark ached for the other, he couldn't help it. It was clear that the death of the other Swindle had taken its toll on this version of the peddler and Perceptor could only imagine the turmoil he was going through.
And he had just given Swindle a glimmer of hope.
Optics slowly came back online, a hand resting over the empty sparkcasing of his counterpart's new frame, the ex-scientist conflicted. Anything he said now would either upset Swindle further or enrage him and neither of those were things that he wanted.
//...Swindle I...\\ He paused, trying to gather himself properly as his processor worked to put together the correct words. //...Even I do not have the ability to bring a bot back to life...all the knowledge in the universe does not grant me the power to play Primus.\\ His voice was soft, words gentle and it was clear just how horrible he felt, how much he wanted to help the other. //I...and even if there was something different about this place, about this Nexus that could potentially make it possible....I do not have enough knowledge of this place to even know where to begin.\\
Work was forgotten as Perceptor lifted a hand to rub at his forehead, optics dim as his voice broke with a bit of static.
//..I am truly sorry, Swindle..but I do not even know how to go about something of that complexity. Creating something in the lab...it is far different from restoring a life.\\
Reply
// You could try ....you could at least try .... //
But Swindle had heard the hopelessness in the scientist’s voice and he knew what that meant. That there was no coming back. For his other self.
His spark twisted. He burst out: // Well where does that leave me then? Do you know what it’s like, having a broken sparkbond, Perceptor? Do you know how much it hurts? And I didn’t even have .... //
Swindle paused and leaned heavily against a rock, his spark aching, his frame shaking miserably. // I didn’t even have a medic for the repair. It’s not like it is for you lot, you know, all nice and caring. I had to go through this on my own, Decepticons don't give pit about this sort of thing. //
Swindle’s spark twisted again and he started to cry, not able to disguise the fact that this was occurring and not caring, even if it was an Autobot on the other end of the comm.
He didn’t care if Perceptor was upset himself, or if he could see how devastated he was, in fact, he wanted him to see it, to feel his pain. To know just how much a bunch of mechs who considered themselves the 'pillars of righteousness' had ruined someone else’s life. To know just how much damage he and his mate and their little lynch mob had done.
*He raged, tears of anger:*// Something went wrong with the repair program .... and now I just remember all this stuff .... and I have these dreams .... and it hurts so much ....you have no slaggin' idea. //
Brushing away tears and stomping across to the secret subspace cabinet, Swindle opened it and hauled out a cube of high grade. It had made him feel better earlier, he surmised, and it could do so again now.
Reply
//I..do not have any idea what it feels like to have it broken but I have had mine cut off and with as much as that hurt, I can only imagine the intensified pain from having it broken.\\ His voice stayed soft, sincere, the sniper not aiming to upset the 'Con; no, he had contacted him to try and help, in whatever way he could.
//I cannot promise anything, Swindle, but..I will look into it and I will ask my counterpart--the one from your universe--to assist me once I have him in his new frame.\\ Perceptor really had no idea where to even start and part of him felt like he was lying because he was fairly certain it wouldn't work...
But he had to do something.
Surprise flickered through his optics as he heard the other begin to cry, spark aching just a bit as his gaze lowered and dimmed, the ex-scientist glancing off to the side.
//....I...If you would allow me...I could see about potentially fixing whatever got damaged in the repair program. I would understand if you do not want me coming near you though..\\
Reply
But there was that kindness in the voice again, that caring which Swindle was so unused to. It was disarming - making him think - most uncharacteristically - that maybe two wrongs did not make a right.
Besides, his team mates were not interested. Swindle simmered at that, also. Well, maybe it would be more irksome for Vortex for him to say that he'd decided against payback for the time being. The copter would be sorry, once his usual lust for violence returned.
And - he did want this fixed. The thought of having to go through the rest of his days suffering wrenching pain every time he thought of Swindle was appalling. And, in the background, was undeniably the idea that this was a way of getting to the other one - the one who did it - if he changed his mind.
// Yeah - he muttered - I'd like you to do that. //
A glint of blue right from the back of the cabinet caught Swindle's optics, then. Frowning, he reached inside. His fingers closed around the vial of Zydrate he had hidden in there after the row he’d had with Swindle on that dreadful day he left the caves.
Swindle had forgotten all about it. Now, he drew it out slowly and held it up, watching the reflections dance off it, remembering vaguely that Fireflight had said this stuff was 'pretty.' His spark twisted at the notion that this vial was all he had to remember his sparkmate by. He lowered his hand, clutching it.
// Yeah - I figure you owe me one,// Swindle said. // You see - it's not just that he - died. *Swindle winced at the word.* // You said the bonds were gonna co-exist. They didn't. The whole thing - it went wrong. It made me get more into the gestalt and him more into things he shouldn't. That's why I wanted you to help me break the bond - you know - in a controlled way. I thought that might make it better for everyone. //
// But you wouldn't. It ended up like this. So - yeah - I'd like it if you helped me now.//
Reply
//Alright...when would you like me to come to you?\\ Part of him was hesitant, if only because he wasn't sure how the 'Con was going to act considering everything that had happened. But, at the same time, he also knew he could handle himself should things go bad and, if all else failed, distress signals were wonderful things.
//Outside of work on my counterpart's frame I do not have anything going on. And given....Is it safe to assume that you want this fixed as soon as possible?\\
Reply
// I'd like you to come as soon as possible, // he whimpered. // Its that place by the river. You know - like before. //
Swindle sat back heavily and leaned back against the rock, shuttering his optics, his fingers closing around the vial.
// It doesn't matter if it - hurts, // he said, // I've got something to take away the pain. //
He would, he thought, knock the zydrate back before the scientist arrived. That way he'd be all happy and compliant, wouldn't get the urge to do anything not conducive to the process. Like rave on that the other's mate was a murdering hypocrite, and threaten to kill him. For instance.
No - now he had made the decision to let Perceptor help him, Swindle had no wish to prove an obstructive or difficult patient. Or to suffer any more unnecessary agony. Besides, his sparkmate would, he imagined, perhaps have been pleased at such a use of his concoction. Even if he was a little belated in agreeing to ingest it.
Reply
For as much as he was worried that Swindle was going to try something, the complete state of brokenness that the other seemed to be in helped his desire to do some good push those doubts aside. The other was distraught, so very much so, and Perceptor knew that, in a roundabout way, he was to blame and therefore he needed to do something to fix it.
So he would.
//...Please be careful until I arrive, Swindle.\\ What the other had said...the sniper was fairly certain he knew what Swindle had to take away the pain. But he didn't want to dwell on that. He would go and help in whatever way he could. Simple as that.
//I shall see you shortly.\\
Reply
Breaking the top off the vial, Swindle cast it to one side. Immediately, a pungent aroma assaulted the Combaticon's olfactory sensors and his optics widened in surprise. Holding the vial up, he again examined the contents.
Having been a dealer of entities far from legal before the war, Swindle was no stranger to zydrate. Or to its several varieties. And this .... well - this was a particularly potent version. Quite nasty, actually. And now Swindle remembered what Fireflight had said about Silverbolt's 'cluster addiction.' "You wanted me to take this?" he murmured incredulously.
Yet, Swindle could feel no anger, or betrayal, or disappointment towards his dead counterpart. Only an even greater love than before, and a great sorrow that Swindle had wanted him there so much he was willing to go to these measures, and a terrible anguish that he had not complied.
It made his spark spasm with fresh, unbearable pain, and he bent over, clutching at his chest, miserable beyond all reason, missing his alternate self more than ever.
I could take this now, he thought. Then I'll be hooked on it, and Perceptor will have to get me more, and then maybe I can take enough in one go to end this altogether ..... And something came back to him, a fragment of memory, a wish to follow his sparkmate. Something he had wanted, just before Swindle died.
But his other programming - that of the gestalt - could not let Swindle forget he was a part of that too. Such an act would damage his team, irreparably. And no matter how angry he was with Vortex and Blast Off, no matter that they were actually to blame for his departure from the caves, he knew that he could never do such a thing.
Replacing the cap, the smallest Combaticon simply held the vial once more in his hand and wept silently, awaiting Perceptor's arrival.
Reply
He follows the almost-path along the river, wheels grinding through the dirt, rocks and twigs. He curses as the underside of him scrapes the ground. His low profile design is not built for nature but he refuses to change his style just to accommodate Nexus's primitive landscape.
As he cruises slowly, he sees a figure in the distance, a bot with a familiar paint job. His spark jumps then twists a little. As he gets closer, the bot's colors and shapes become clearer, and there's an unmistakable cannon on the mech's arm. Urgently flipping into robot mode, he approaches cautiously but curiously. Is he halucinating? Do ghosts exist in Nexus? He approaches from behind but he makes his steps heard, not wanting to surprise the improbable mech.
Swindle?
Reply
He remembered that the scientist did not have a vehicle mode just as he heard his name spoken.
Swindle's systems snapped back online and he was on his feet in an instant, as into view came a mech he had never before seen in all the time he had been in the Nexus. Large green, slim but very powerful looking, the other was regarding Swindle as though he were familiar, known to him somehow.
Swindle's weakened state did not prevent him from drawing weapons, instantly. Not that the mech had done anything hostile, but his appearance here was - well - something of a surprise. Besides which, Swindle could not keep his optics off the large hook which protruded from the mech's right arm.
"Your business?" he said, powering the canon as he studied the newcomer.
Reply
Easy pal, I don't mean any harm. He looks the Combaticon over head to pede, noting with a heavy spark how strikingly similar he is to his departed friend. This mech is obviously from another verse, which makes him a stranger to the hunter, but Lockdown still feels a distant camaraderie to him. He's not about to invite the fragger to an all-night low-grade binge, but he's not going to pull a weapon on him either.
You're...He speaks in a calm tone, presenting his words like a peace offering.
...his counterpart, ain't ya.
He questions how vague that might come across. He has no idea if this Swindle has ever met the other Swindle or if he's even been in Nexus long enough to know about the cross-universe thing.
Reply
For Swindle felt the need to make a good impression. In the wake of Megatron's departure and the apathetic attitude of his team mates, had he not raved on to Rumble earlier about enlisting other 'cons in his quest for vengeance? The Decepticon crest stood out sharply on this new mech's chest, and he had a tough 'take no pit' aura about him - aided much, of course, by the spikes on his shoulder and that hook.. It seemed almost like fate, him showing up like this.
The mech had shown no hostility. In fact, Swindle sensed quite the reverse, and he almost warmed to him. Perhaps this was because the guy looked to be of the same alloys and built by whatever had designed - his sparkmate. Swindle's chest ached at that realization, and he put a hand to it and held himself, wincing softly.
At the question, he knew also, somehow, that the big mech was referring to Swindle. He tried to remember if his alternate self had mentioned anyone from his verse. Something about a bounty hunter, Swindle thought he heard once. He wished he could remember.
He had no qualms about answering the mech. "I was his counterpart," he whispered. "When he was alive ...." he hesitated, his voice wavery.
" .... and he was also my sparkmate."
Reply
The hunter watches curiously as the mech struggles both physically and psychologically. Nexus is obviously not treating this mech well. When Swindle answers his question, Lockdown freezes a moment, double checking his audio to make certain he had heard him right.
Sparkemate?
He had no idea. Not only that his Swindle was involved so deeply with...himself, but that he was the type to sparkbond at all. The hunter always figured the peddler had the same view on sparkbonding as he did: that connecting yourself to another so invasively was not conducive to either of their professions. But obviously Lockdown is wrong, assuming this Swindle is telling the truth. He supposes it logical that Swindle's preferred sparkmate would be himself. Plus the combaticon's condition screams of a broken bond--this is evidence enough to convince Lockdown that he's telling the truth.
I'm--His gaze drops to the ground as his hand rubs over the back of his neck. He's not very good at sympathy. I'm sorry to hear that.
Reaching into subspace, he pulls out a cube of energon.
He was a business partner a'mine, and...well, he was a friend too.
He keeps his movements slow and easy as he approaches the broken mech, offering the cube to him.
S'a damn shame he's gone.
Reply
Leave a comment