The Last Dance - More Fic!
Hey again! I wrote up another one-shot now that I'm getting more used to writing again. This one is more heavily set in the Nurture vs. Nature - verse of my previous stuff, but it's not necessary to be familiar with it in order to read this. I wrote it in two short stints while at work, and it's pretty clear that I haven't beta'd it, but I wanted to post it anyway. It's not my happiest piece out there, but I did finish a separate one-shot after this one which I'll post later, and it's much more happy.
Some notes about it before I start: this is actually the first time writing their creator as anything more than a mean old mech. In NvN and one-shots that feature him, he's a nasty slagger who psychologically and physically molds Sideswipe and Sunstreaker into being the perfect killing machines. But here, I think he crosses a line not crossed before to do something he thinks is important for them to learn. Like with all the things he does, he doesn't do it because he wants to, but because he feels he has to. I'll fine tune it later on since it'll probably end up being a chapter in its own right in the NvN fic itself. So I want to know your feedback on Triggerpinch as a character and how to make him more effective. With the story about the sparkling and the cub, I had heard of variations of this throughout history and in a book I'm reading now, so that's the homage on that. As for the dancing...I always saw them as being pretty cultured and literate, but I also know that their creator wouldn't let them do something like that just for fun. There had to be a lesson in it (like having better footwork in battle), but knowing him, he'd want to layer as many lessons as he could into it. Hence this result.
So without further ado...
Warnings for sad sparkling!twins.
They’d long ago learned never to complain or question when faced with one of their creator’s newest ideas. Lessons, he called them. Each carefully chosen and crafted to teach something he considered essential to their upbringing as future warriors. Commissioned and paid for by the High Council, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe held no ownership of their lives. Their path was already pre-determined, and until they were at last requested to fulfill their role, each twin was to be molded to perfection by the one who gave them life.
He did not love them. He didn’t even care about them. They were, he often explained, his final masterpiece. His opus. The ultimate in engineering and training, more powerful than any weapon he’d ever built, and unprecedented in custom creations. They were many things to him, but they would never be his children. He didn’t comfort them when they’d been hurt, and he was not patient when they didn’t understand. After all, did you comfort your pistol after you shot it? No. You used it and kept it clean and loaded and by your side. And when it was no longer necessary or good at its function, it was melted down and discarded.
For everything that Triggerpinch was, he was not kind. He never did anything without purpose. And he surely did not have them do anything purely for enjoyment.
“That’s it, keep looking at me.” Sunstreaker raised his optics again to look into the face of the femme opposite him. While she was a great deal more lovely to look at than his feet, Sunstreaker did not wish to step on her by accident. He hadn’t done so in over a solar cycle, but old habits died hard.
Lowly though her background was, the lavender femme from Kaon had talent, and talent always trumped birth in Triggerpinch’s opinion. Cirrus-5 knew every major style of dance, as well as the traditional ones from her own culture. She was heavily sought after by the rich lords in the Iacon Towers, but it was Triggerpinch who’d secured an exclusive contract with the dance instructor. She was to teach his creations how to dance. Every dance, from the solemn ceremonious Tower waltzes to the wild celebratory jigs of Tarus to the sensual intimate dances of Kaon. They were to learn and master them all.
For the past three solar cycles it had been like this. Three times a week, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker would miss combat training in favor of Cirrus’ lessons. To miss training in something Triggerpinch had stressed was critical, there must have been a good reason.
Yet as he lead the beautiful femme around the studio, Sunstreaker could not fathom a reason why. Dancing was useless in combat, despite what she said about grace and poise. What was he expected to do? Waltz the enemy into oblivion? Primus knew their elder brother, a well-known and high ranking Wing Commander, did not dance. To their shame, Flattop had teased them mercilessly when he’d found out what they were doing.
Well let them laugh, Sunstreaker thought as they completed their final turn around the room. He got to hold the lovely femme in his arms each week. A femme who didn’t fear him or treat him like he was stupid. She was kind to him and his twin, and did not laugh when they stumbled. Whatever Triggerpinch’s intentions in hiring her, he surely hadn’t expected his creations to become so smitten with their tutor. Everywhere else, they were his, but here… here they were hers alone.
“You did wonderfully,” Cirrus-5 praised Sunstreaker after they’d bowed to finish the dance. “Now if only I could get your brother to waltz half so well.”
The jibe fell flat as she said it with a smile on her face and in her pale optics. They all knew Sunstreaker’s forte was in the slower, more intricate dances, while Sideswipe excelled in the faster freer dances of Praxus and Kaon. A fact he intended on reminding her as he stepped up to take his turn.
“That wasn’t dancing,” Sideswipe told her with a lopsided grin.
“Oh no?” she chuckled, taking her position opposite him. A radio command to her music player in the corner of the studio began the faster courtship dance of Iacon’s lower levels.
“Nope,” Sideswipe smirked over at his brother who sniffed hautily. “He’s got no rhythm. He just stumbles around like a Guardian with too much high grade in his system.”
A barb that did not draw blood. Sideswipe had always been the clumsy twin, both in combat training and in dancing lessons. A fault that had nearly driven Triggerpinch spare, but one Cirrus undertook happily. No matter how many times or how badly their creator punished Sideswipe for his habitual clumsiness, he never made as much headway as one session in Cirrus’ care.
Sunstreaker suspected it was more motivation than anything that had resulted in Sideswipe overcoming this hurdle. Where Triggerpinch offered less isolation from Sunstreaker, Cirrus-5 merely offered a kiss. She favored neither twin in this matter, and they were both very pleased with this arrangement. They had never had kisses before, and hers were as sweet as she was herself. Sideswipe especially did his best to steal as many of her kisses as he could, smitten as he was.
Yes, this was a very good arrangement, if you asked them.
The femme let out a breathy laugh when Sideswipe had finally finished swinging her about the small room. “Yes,” she agreed as she allowed his lips to lightly brush hers. “You’re much lighter on your feet than your brother.” Then she winked at Sunstreaker so he knew she didn’t mean it. She needn’t have bothered. She had his trust, and he knew she would not hurt him. “And he is so much more graceful.” Another wink. “What will the army do with such wonderful dancers, hrm?”
Sideswipe laughed and shrugged. “Slag if I know. I still don’t know why we have to know this stuff, besides for fun.”
“Well you can’t pretend to be uncultured hooligans all the time, can you?” she asked, turning her head up to face him. Sideswipe took the opportunity to try and kiss her again, but was poked into behaving by an amused brother.
“Well we are going to be big scary warriors,” Sideswipe said matter-of-factly. Sunstreaker nodded in agreement.
Cirrus-5 shook her head, and her smile grew a little sad. “You are barely out of sparklinghood. You should be enjoying your life, not thinking about such horrible things.”
“Why not?” Sunstreaker asked, genuinely confused. “It’s what we were built for.”
“And the lessons will help you with that, even if you don’t realize it now. But that is only a small part of it.” She wished they could see what she did. “ You are more than your programming.”
At that, Sideswipe had to shake his head. “No we’re not.” It did not bother him to admit it. It was all he and his brother had ever known. Punishment and harshness were his parents, and the sound of bullets zipping by his head was his lullaby each night. It was this femme, with her soft touches, kind words, and sweet kisses that was the anomaly. There was a comfort in knowing your destiny, and the twins had stopped fighting it many solar cycles ago. They didn’t expect her to understand.
She would have said more, but at that moment, the door opened, and the twins’ creator walked in. It was unusual, but not unheard of. Sometimes he came at the end of a lesson to see how they were progressing.
Yet when he locked the door behind him, Cirrus-5’s optic ridge raised a fraction. The twins stiffened, never liking a locked door.
“We were not expecting you,” she said, though she may as well not have said anything. Triggerpinch came and went as he pleased. “Are you here to see how much they’ve improved?” Another useless sentence. That was the only reason he would ever be there. As expected, he didn’t answer. He never wasted his time on stupid questions.
The sparklings alternated each dance, performing each one flawlessly. They had improved very much since the last time Triggerpinch had seen them, and a part of him was finally satisfied in what he saw. Another ingredient to the deadly cocktail he was producing had been added. His creations now knew how to move. Sideswipe with confidence and sure feet to match his unpredictable fighting style. Sunstreaker with the smooth deadly movements to allow him to strike without a sound. At last he was seeing progress.
And once started, progress could not be hindered nor delayed.
“I believe we have reached an ending to our arrangement, Cirrus-5,” he said evenly when Sunstreaker had completed the last dance. “They have learned all they can learn from you.”
The lavender femme was surprised and not a little upset. He was dismissing her just like that? Without warning? “But sir,” she tried, “there’s still more they can learn. They’re hardly dancing masters yet.”
“Can’t we learn just a little more?” asked Sideswipe, knowing he’d later pay for talking back.
“There is only one more lesson this femme can hope to teach you, Sideswipe,” Triggerpinch said, ever in his even short tone. “And before we terminate our contract with her, I will see to it that you learn this lesson fully.”
“What lesson?” asked Sunstreaker.
“In the old days,” the elder mech said, unusually willing to explain himself. “A sparkling would be given a turbo-hound cub to raise. As the sparkling was trained to be a warrior, one of the lessons would include an… introduction to the balance of life and death. The sparkling would be forced to kill what he had grown to care for. The hand that gives life takes life back. It doesn’t flinch and it doesn’t regret.”
It was Cirrus who understood first, though her spark was desperate to deny it. She laughed softly, but the usual melodic tinkle in it was strained, the pitch too high. “Now sir, that’s hardly…”
Triggerpinch paid her no mind, instead facing his twin creations. “Kill her,” was all he said.
Neither mech moved, in shock and in horror of what was being demanded of them. Cirrus was sweet and kind; she was no enemy who deserved death. She was no training droid without feeling or pain receptors.
“Triggerpinch, no…” Sideswipe started, flinching at the cold glare sent his way. He was to be obedient at all times, and his creator never forgave deviation from that. Yet he had to try. “She didn’t do anything wrong. Not her…”
Triggerpinch raised the key card to show that he would control when the room would be unlocked. The twins feared a room they could not escape. He made sure of that. He made sure they feared small rooms such as this. Rooms without windows.
And he made sure they feared him most of all.
Already he could see Sunstreaker stiffening and Sideswipe’s hands twitching. They were a far cry from what he would be satisfied with, but they would get there. And as far as Cirrus went… well, how long she lived would depend largely on her.
“You are mine,” he growled at the questioning sparkling. “You are my property, and then you will be Prime’s. I am ordering you to do this. Does she mean anything to you? Do you value her life?”
“No life is valuable,” Sideswipe responded unhappily.
Cirrus shook her head, denying that this was happening. Her spark thrummed with the first stirrings of fear. Not these two. Not them. They wouldn’t hurt her.
“All life is valuable!” she cried, placing a delicate hand on Sideswipe’s arm. Normally, her touch would be welcome, but not now. Bad things happened when people got too close. It was a hard lesson learned, but a fast one taken. Sideswipe stepped back from her, optics paling a shade. He was frightened too, and it was starting to get Sunstreaker upset.
“She’ll take your brother,” Triggerpinch turned to the yellow who was trying to remain calm. “She’ll take him and leave you alone. Is that what you want?”
“I’m not taking anyone!” she denied. “Sunstreaker, Sideswipe… this is madness! Let me go home!”
“Oh yes, by all means let her go home,” the engineer said. “She’ll call the police, and I can only imagine what they’ll do. Lock you up probably. They’ll find a nice dark cell, I’m sure…”
“I won’t,” she pleaded, looking at Sunstreaker for help. “I won’t say anything.” He did not look back at her, too conflicted to move. Everything in him screamed that he could not do this. That he would not. He couldn’t obey and hurt the only good thing that he and his brother had. She gave them kisses instead of punishment. She could touch them without causing harm. She did not look at him with fear.
No… no, she was very much afraid. Of Triggerpinch. Of him. Of his brother.
“You’re more than your programming,” Cirrus-5 whispered, backing up slowly from the twins. She’d never noticed just how big they were before. “I’ve told you…”
Sideswipe clenched his jaw and he watched her back away from him just like everyone else did. “And we told you we weren’t.” Wasn’t she proving that now? Oh, he wanted to be more. He wanted to dance with her and smile and not be afraid. He didn’t want this at all, didn’t she see that? Why was she afraid of him?
“Don’t take long,” Triggerpinch went to the music player and turned it on loudly. There were no other people nearby, but one couldn’t be too careful. Then he turned his back and walked out of the room, locking it on the way out. Gore didn’t bother him necessarily, but he took no delight in it. Neither did his creations, though he would work to change that. They didn’t have to enjoy today, it just needed to be done. They had to kill the cub they loved before they could truly learn to let go of everything but each other.
He waited outside until he was confident they had finished. The small locked room started it. Then the scent of her fear and his encouragement of their own. The betrayal they felt when she backed away from them. They were dogs raised to turn on those who feared them. She couldn’t have damned herself faster.
That alone didn’t doom her, Triggerpinch mused during the wait. She wasn’t dead until she ran or screamed. As long as she stayed very quiet and very still, she had a chance. Perhaps even a good one. She could talk them down. Convince them not to hurt her. They did love her, after all.
A moment later, a heavy thud was felt through the bass of the music. He shut off his audios and waited a few minutes more before trying to enter. They would be a danger to him when he first walked in, so he would have to be ready to snap them out of it. One didn’t raise mechs like them and not be prepared to deal with the outcome.
Silly girl, he thought. Never should have tried to run. Now she was just one more lesson he’d given his twins for their own good.
Hold nothing. Cherish nothing. Love nothing. Value nothing. It didn’t matter how many people had to die before they learned this. Even if they killed him in the end, which was a very real possibility and one he’d long ago accepted.
They were his final opus anyway, and there was nothing else he treasured in this broken world.
Jo, your fic should be up shortly since it's all written up! :D
Some notes about it before I start: this is actually the first time writing their creator as anything more than a mean old mech. In NvN and one-shots that feature him, he's a nasty slagger who psychologically and physically molds Sideswipe and Sunstreaker into being the perfect killing machines. But here, I think he crosses a line not crossed before to do something he thinks is important for them to learn. Like with all the things he does, he doesn't do it because he wants to, but because he feels he has to. I'll fine tune it later on since it'll probably end up being a chapter in its own right in the NvN fic itself. So I want to know your feedback on Triggerpinch as a character and how to make him more effective. With the story about the sparkling and the cub, I had heard of variations of this throughout history and in a book I'm reading now, so that's the homage on that. As for the dancing...I always saw them as being pretty cultured and literate, but I also know that their creator wouldn't let them do something like that just for fun. There had to be a lesson in it (like having better footwork in battle), but knowing him, he'd want to layer as many lessons as he could into it. Hence this result.
So without further ado...
Warnings for sad sparkling!twins.
They’d long ago learned never to complain or question when faced with one of their creator’s newest ideas. Lessons, he called them. Each carefully chosen and crafted to teach something he considered essential to their upbringing as future warriors. Commissioned and paid for by the High Council, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe held no ownership of their lives. Their path was already pre-determined, and until they were at last requested to fulfill their role, each twin was to be molded to perfection by the one who gave them life.
He did not love them. He didn’t even care about them. They were, he often explained, his final masterpiece. His opus. The ultimate in engineering and training, more powerful than any weapon he’d ever built, and unprecedented in custom creations. They were many things to him, but they would never be his children. He didn’t comfort them when they’d been hurt, and he was not patient when they didn’t understand. After all, did you comfort your pistol after you shot it? No. You used it and kept it clean and loaded and by your side. And when it was no longer necessary or good at its function, it was melted down and discarded.
For everything that Triggerpinch was, he was not kind. He never did anything without purpose. And he surely did not have them do anything purely for enjoyment.
“That’s it, keep looking at me.” Sunstreaker raised his optics again to look into the face of the femme opposite him. While she was a great deal more lovely to look at than his feet, Sunstreaker did not wish to step on her by accident. He hadn’t done so in over a solar cycle, but old habits died hard.
Lowly though her background was, the lavender femme from Kaon had talent, and talent always trumped birth in Triggerpinch’s opinion. Cirrus-5 knew every major style of dance, as well as the traditional ones from her own culture. She was heavily sought after by the rich lords in the Iacon Towers, but it was Triggerpinch who’d secured an exclusive contract with the dance instructor. She was to teach his creations how to dance. Every dance, from the solemn ceremonious Tower waltzes to the wild celebratory jigs of Tarus to the sensual intimate dances of Kaon. They were to learn and master them all.
For the past three solar cycles it had been like this. Three times a week, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker would miss combat training in favor of Cirrus’ lessons. To miss training in something Triggerpinch had stressed was critical, there must have been a good reason.
Yet as he lead the beautiful femme around the studio, Sunstreaker could not fathom a reason why. Dancing was useless in combat, despite what she said about grace and poise. What was he expected to do? Waltz the enemy into oblivion? Primus knew their elder brother, a well-known and high ranking Wing Commander, did not dance. To their shame, Flattop had teased them mercilessly when he’d found out what they were doing.
Well let them laugh, Sunstreaker thought as they completed their final turn around the room. He got to hold the lovely femme in his arms each week. A femme who didn’t fear him or treat him like he was stupid. She was kind to him and his twin, and did not laugh when they stumbled. Whatever Triggerpinch’s intentions in hiring her, he surely hadn’t expected his creations to become so smitten with their tutor. Everywhere else, they were his, but here… here they were hers alone.
“You did wonderfully,” Cirrus-5 praised Sunstreaker after they’d bowed to finish the dance. “Now if only I could get your brother to waltz half so well.”
The jibe fell flat as she said it with a smile on her face and in her pale optics. They all knew Sunstreaker’s forte was in the slower, more intricate dances, while Sideswipe excelled in the faster freer dances of Praxus and Kaon. A fact he intended on reminding her as he stepped up to take his turn.
“That wasn’t dancing,” Sideswipe told her with a lopsided grin.
“Oh no?” she chuckled, taking her position opposite him. A radio command to her music player in the corner of the studio began the faster courtship dance of Iacon’s lower levels.
“Nope,” Sideswipe smirked over at his brother who sniffed hautily. “He’s got no rhythm. He just stumbles around like a Guardian with too much high grade in his system.”
A barb that did not draw blood. Sideswipe had always been the clumsy twin, both in combat training and in dancing lessons. A fault that had nearly driven Triggerpinch spare, but one Cirrus undertook happily. No matter how many times or how badly their creator punished Sideswipe for his habitual clumsiness, he never made as much headway as one session in Cirrus’ care.
Sunstreaker suspected it was more motivation than anything that had resulted in Sideswipe overcoming this hurdle. Where Triggerpinch offered less isolation from Sunstreaker, Cirrus-5 merely offered a kiss. She favored neither twin in this matter, and they were both very pleased with this arrangement. They had never had kisses before, and hers were as sweet as she was herself. Sideswipe especially did his best to steal as many of her kisses as he could, smitten as he was.
Yes, this was a very good arrangement, if you asked them.
The femme let out a breathy laugh when Sideswipe had finally finished swinging her about the small room. “Yes,” she agreed as she allowed his lips to lightly brush hers. “You’re much lighter on your feet than your brother.” Then she winked at Sunstreaker so he knew she didn’t mean it. She needn’t have bothered. She had his trust, and he knew she would not hurt him. “And he is so much more graceful.” Another wink. “What will the army do with such wonderful dancers, hrm?”
Sideswipe laughed and shrugged. “Slag if I know. I still don’t know why we have to know this stuff, besides for fun.”
“Well you can’t pretend to be uncultured hooligans all the time, can you?” she asked, turning her head up to face him. Sideswipe took the opportunity to try and kiss her again, but was poked into behaving by an amused brother.
“Well we are going to be big scary warriors,” Sideswipe said matter-of-factly. Sunstreaker nodded in agreement.
Cirrus-5 shook her head, and her smile grew a little sad. “You are barely out of sparklinghood. You should be enjoying your life, not thinking about such horrible things.”
“Why not?” Sunstreaker asked, genuinely confused. “It’s what we were built for.”
“And the lessons will help you with that, even if you don’t realize it now. But that is only a small part of it.” She wished they could see what she did. “ You are more than your programming.”
At that, Sideswipe had to shake his head. “No we’re not.” It did not bother him to admit it. It was all he and his brother had ever known. Punishment and harshness were his parents, and the sound of bullets zipping by his head was his lullaby each night. It was this femme, with her soft touches, kind words, and sweet kisses that was the anomaly. There was a comfort in knowing your destiny, and the twins had stopped fighting it many solar cycles ago. They didn’t expect her to understand.
She would have said more, but at that moment, the door opened, and the twins’ creator walked in. It was unusual, but not unheard of. Sometimes he came at the end of a lesson to see how they were progressing.
Yet when he locked the door behind him, Cirrus-5’s optic ridge raised a fraction. The twins stiffened, never liking a locked door.
“We were not expecting you,” she said, though she may as well not have said anything. Triggerpinch came and went as he pleased. “Are you here to see how much they’ve improved?” Another useless sentence. That was the only reason he would ever be there. As expected, he didn’t answer. He never wasted his time on stupid questions.
The sparklings alternated each dance, performing each one flawlessly. They had improved very much since the last time Triggerpinch had seen them, and a part of him was finally satisfied in what he saw. Another ingredient to the deadly cocktail he was producing had been added. His creations now knew how to move. Sideswipe with confidence and sure feet to match his unpredictable fighting style. Sunstreaker with the smooth deadly movements to allow him to strike without a sound. At last he was seeing progress.
And once started, progress could not be hindered nor delayed.
“I believe we have reached an ending to our arrangement, Cirrus-5,” he said evenly when Sunstreaker had completed the last dance. “They have learned all they can learn from you.”
The lavender femme was surprised and not a little upset. He was dismissing her just like that? Without warning? “But sir,” she tried, “there’s still more they can learn. They’re hardly dancing masters yet.”
“Can’t we learn just a little more?” asked Sideswipe, knowing he’d later pay for talking back.
“There is only one more lesson this femme can hope to teach you, Sideswipe,” Triggerpinch said, ever in his even short tone. “And before we terminate our contract with her, I will see to it that you learn this lesson fully.”
“What lesson?” asked Sunstreaker.
“In the old days,” the elder mech said, unusually willing to explain himself. “A sparkling would be given a turbo-hound cub to raise. As the sparkling was trained to be a warrior, one of the lessons would include an… introduction to the balance of life and death. The sparkling would be forced to kill what he had grown to care for. The hand that gives life takes life back. It doesn’t flinch and it doesn’t regret.”
It was Cirrus who understood first, though her spark was desperate to deny it. She laughed softly, but the usual melodic tinkle in it was strained, the pitch too high. “Now sir, that’s hardly…”
Triggerpinch paid her no mind, instead facing his twin creations. “Kill her,” was all he said.
Neither mech moved, in shock and in horror of what was being demanded of them. Cirrus was sweet and kind; she was no enemy who deserved death. She was no training droid without feeling or pain receptors.
“Triggerpinch, no…” Sideswipe started, flinching at the cold glare sent his way. He was to be obedient at all times, and his creator never forgave deviation from that. Yet he had to try. “She didn’t do anything wrong. Not her…”
Triggerpinch raised the key card to show that he would control when the room would be unlocked. The twins feared a room they could not escape. He made sure of that. He made sure they feared small rooms such as this. Rooms without windows.
And he made sure they feared him most of all.
Already he could see Sunstreaker stiffening and Sideswipe’s hands twitching. They were a far cry from what he would be satisfied with, but they would get there. And as far as Cirrus went… well, how long she lived would depend largely on her.
“You are mine,” he growled at the questioning sparkling. “You are my property, and then you will be Prime’s. I am ordering you to do this. Does she mean anything to you? Do you value her life?”
“No life is valuable,” Sideswipe responded unhappily.
Cirrus shook her head, denying that this was happening. Her spark thrummed with the first stirrings of fear. Not these two. Not them. They wouldn’t hurt her.
“All life is valuable!” she cried, placing a delicate hand on Sideswipe’s arm. Normally, her touch would be welcome, but not now. Bad things happened when people got too close. It was a hard lesson learned, but a fast one taken. Sideswipe stepped back from her, optics paling a shade. He was frightened too, and it was starting to get Sunstreaker upset.
“She’ll take your brother,” Triggerpinch turned to the yellow who was trying to remain calm. “She’ll take him and leave you alone. Is that what you want?”
“I’m not taking anyone!” she denied. “Sunstreaker, Sideswipe… this is madness! Let me go home!”
“Oh yes, by all means let her go home,” the engineer said. “She’ll call the police, and I can only imagine what they’ll do. Lock you up probably. They’ll find a nice dark cell, I’m sure…”
“I won’t,” she pleaded, looking at Sunstreaker for help. “I won’t say anything.” He did not look back at her, too conflicted to move. Everything in him screamed that he could not do this. That he would not. He couldn’t obey and hurt the only good thing that he and his brother had. She gave them kisses instead of punishment. She could touch them without causing harm. She did not look at him with fear.
No… no, she was very much afraid. Of Triggerpinch. Of him. Of his brother.
“You’re more than your programming,” Cirrus-5 whispered, backing up slowly from the twins. She’d never noticed just how big they were before. “I’ve told you…”
Sideswipe clenched his jaw and he watched her back away from him just like everyone else did. “And we told you we weren’t.” Wasn’t she proving that now? Oh, he wanted to be more. He wanted to dance with her and smile and not be afraid. He didn’t want this at all, didn’t she see that? Why was she afraid of him?
“Don’t take long,” Triggerpinch went to the music player and turned it on loudly. There were no other people nearby, but one couldn’t be too careful. Then he turned his back and walked out of the room, locking it on the way out. Gore didn’t bother him necessarily, but he took no delight in it. Neither did his creations, though he would work to change that. They didn’t have to enjoy today, it just needed to be done. They had to kill the cub they loved before they could truly learn to let go of everything but each other.
He waited outside until he was confident they had finished. The small locked room started it. Then the scent of her fear and his encouragement of their own. The betrayal they felt when she backed away from them. They were dogs raised to turn on those who feared them. She couldn’t have damned herself faster.
That alone didn’t doom her, Triggerpinch mused during the wait. She wasn’t dead until she ran or screamed. As long as she stayed very quiet and very still, she had a chance. Perhaps even a good one. She could talk them down. Convince them not to hurt her. They did love her, after all.
A moment later, a heavy thud was felt through the bass of the music. He shut off his audios and waited a few minutes more before trying to enter. They would be a danger to him when he first walked in, so he would have to be ready to snap them out of it. One didn’t raise mechs like them and not be prepared to deal with the outcome.
Silly girl, he thought. Never should have tried to run. Now she was just one more lesson he’d given his twins for their own good.
Hold nothing. Cherish nothing. Love nothing. Value nothing. It didn’t matter how many people had to die before they learned this. Even if they killed him in the end, which was a very real possibility and one he’d long ago accepted.
They were his final opus anyway, and there was nothing else he treasured in this broken world.
Jo, your fic should be up shortly since it's all written up! :D