Survival Instincts, an 07/09 movieverse fic (pt 2 of ?)
Title: Survival Instincts (2/?)
Universe: 07/09 movie
Rating: PG13 (could go up in later chapters)
Characters: Sunstreaker, Blaster, eventual appearances of Eject, Rewind, Steeljaw and Ramhorn
Warnings: spoilers for Revenge of the Fallen, angst, tissues.
Summary: Five vorns trapped together in a shuttle could have been bad, but somehow Blaster made it easy for Sunstreaker to stay sane and keep them alive.
Notes: don't lynch me, okay? it's a plot device and has a purpose beyond the angst.
Based on the position of the desert planet they left from and assuming fully functional transwarp engines, the trip should have taken twenty seven cycles. Their shuttle was so ancient and in such bad repair that they had already taken twice that, and were still no more than a third of the way to their destination. Blaster hadn’t seemed overly concerned about the extra time, until Ramhorn’s systems stalled and fell silent.
“No!” Sunstreaker watched with no small degree of horror as the communications specialist flung himself out of the copilot’s chair and onto the floor. He didn’t quite know what to do as Blaster used his remaining arm to pull himself across the small cockpit to the pile his symbiotes were laying in on the floor. It was sparkbreaking to watch him pull the small quadruped to his chest cavity and cradle him with one good arm and one ruined stump. “Oh, Primus, please no.”
That they had known this moment was coming was no consolation. Sunstreaker had become almost fond of the little symbiotes himself, while they had still been online. They were more than drones or pets, but not quite as intelligent as most mechs; Blaster had described them as perpetual sparklings once. He wasn’t feeling the loss quite as keenly as the other mech, but it hurt to know that Ramhorn wasn’t going to see the new home Prime had found for them.
He gave Blaster a moment to grieve alone, before standing and crossing the small room. The communications specialist leaned into him when Sunstreaker wrapped his arms around them. He held Blaster as Blaster held Ramhorn, and the two of them watched the little symbiote’s spark go out in a grief stricken silence.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Ramhorn’s deactivation accomplished what Soundwave could not. Blaster was a very broken mech now. Despite the extra drain it placed on his systems, the communications specialist had reattached the other symbiotes to his body. Then, after Sunstreaker had placed him gently back into the co-pilots’ seat, he had retreated into himself. He didn’t speak, he was barely taking in fuel and Sunstreaker wasn’t sure he was recharging.
Sunstreaker felt helpless watching him.
“We’re going to have to stop in this next star system to forage for fuel,” the warrior said, hoping the other mech was actually listening to him. “If you want, I can take him down and--”
“NO!” Blaster’s shout echoed through the tiny cockpit. Sunstreaker wasn’t sure if he was glad he’d gotten a response out of the other mech or sorry that he’d said anything at all. “You don’t need to take him away,” he said in his normal tone.
“Okay,” Sunstreaker agreed. “But we still have to stop. The ship is running on fumes and hope.”
“Sure,” Blaster agreed. After a moment, he added, “I’m sorry.”
“We all have to grieve sometimes,” Sunstreaker replied. And it was so, so very true. He and Sideswipe had been useless for cycles after Perceptor… “It’s okay.”
“It’s really not,” the other mech replied. “But I know you get that.”
No, it wasn’t okay. But it might be in the future--the fact that Blaster was talking again was proof of that. They would make it until then.
Universe: 07/09 movie
Rating: PG13 (could go up in later chapters)
Characters: Sunstreaker, Blaster, eventual appearances of Eject, Rewind, Steeljaw and Ramhorn
Warnings: spoilers for Revenge of the Fallen, angst, tissues.
Summary: Five vorns trapped together in a shuttle could have been bad, but somehow Blaster made it easy for Sunstreaker to stay sane and keep them alive.
Notes: don't lynch me, okay? it's a plot device and has a purpose beyond the angst.
Based on the position of the desert planet they left from and assuming fully functional transwarp engines, the trip should have taken twenty seven cycles. Their shuttle was so ancient and in such bad repair that they had already taken twice that, and were still no more than a third of the way to their destination. Blaster hadn’t seemed overly concerned about the extra time, until Ramhorn’s systems stalled and fell silent.
“No!” Sunstreaker watched with no small degree of horror as the communications specialist flung himself out of the copilot’s chair and onto the floor. He didn’t quite know what to do as Blaster used his remaining arm to pull himself across the small cockpit to the pile his symbiotes were laying in on the floor. It was sparkbreaking to watch him pull the small quadruped to his chest cavity and cradle him with one good arm and one ruined stump. “Oh, Primus, please no.”
That they had known this moment was coming was no consolation. Sunstreaker had become almost fond of the little symbiotes himself, while they had still been online. They were more than drones or pets, but not quite as intelligent as most mechs; Blaster had described them as perpetual sparklings once. He wasn’t feeling the loss quite as keenly as the other mech, but it hurt to know that Ramhorn wasn’t going to see the new home Prime had found for them.
He gave Blaster a moment to grieve alone, before standing and crossing the small room. The communications specialist leaned into him when Sunstreaker wrapped his arms around them. He held Blaster as Blaster held Ramhorn, and the two of them watched the little symbiote’s spark go out in a grief stricken silence.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Ramhorn’s deactivation accomplished what Soundwave could not. Blaster was a very broken mech now. Despite the extra drain it placed on his systems, the communications specialist had reattached the other symbiotes to his body. Then, after Sunstreaker had placed him gently back into the co-pilots’ seat, he had retreated into himself. He didn’t speak, he was barely taking in fuel and Sunstreaker wasn’t sure he was recharging.
Sunstreaker felt helpless watching him.
“We’re going to have to stop in this next star system to forage for fuel,” the warrior said, hoping the other mech was actually listening to him. “If you want, I can take him down and--”
“NO!” Blaster’s shout echoed through the tiny cockpit. Sunstreaker wasn’t sure if he was glad he’d gotten a response out of the other mech or sorry that he’d said anything at all. “You don’t need to take him away,” he said in his normal tone.
“Okay,” Sunstreaker agreed. “But we still have to stop. The ship is running on fumes and hope.”
“Sure,” Blaster agreed. After a moment, he added, “I’m sorry.”
“We all have to grieve sometimes,” Sunstreaker replied. And it was so, so very true. He and Sideswipe had been useless for cycles after Perceptor… “It’s okay.”
“It’s really not,” the other mech replied. “But I know you get that.”
No, it wasn’t okay. But it might be in the future--the fact that Blaster was talking again was proof of that. They would make it until then.