Barricaded -- Chapter 4
Title: Barricaded -- Chapter 4
Rating: T
Continuity: Bastardized movieverse with G1 influence
Warnings: Shockwave being Shockwave, reprogramming
Chapter 4
Shockwave was confused. It was not a feeling he enjoyed. He liked to know what was happening around him. He liked to understand things. He didn't like it when he didn't know, didn't understand.
And Barricade's behavior was, at least, extremely confusing. Not suspicious. Just confusing.
Which just puzzled the old cyclopes even more.
The mech was acting even more vicious, tearing into anyone who even looked at him in the wrong way. He was a monster on the battlefield, ripping the Autobots apart, often literally. He was... he wasn't the youngling he had been. He wasn't as curious. He did as ordered without question. He didn't wonder. He was a closed off fighting machine.
Shockwave was, understandably, very pleased.
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
Smokescreen was laying low. Barricade hadn't taken his admission very well. Any time the Autobot spoke to him, he just growled and pretended the voice didn't exist.
It was driving Smokescreen absolutely crazy. He had been stuck as a simple voice before, but at least he had been able to talk to someone. Now, he was isolated and alone, stuck in his own processor, watching as the mech inhabiting his body vehemently accepted the violent Decepticon coding.
Even as the tactician frantically deleted all he could of the programming Shockwave had downloaded, the Decepticon was accepting it and integrating it just as enthusiastically.
Smokescreen constantly felt lost and depressed, and that was driving Barricade crazy.
Worse than that, though, was that he had nothing to do. He was... floating. He found himself periodically “waking up,” long blank spaces of memory behind him. He felt his own coding fading.
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
They held the stalemate for close to three vorns, in which Barricade became one of the most feared not-officer Decepticons. He was vicious, cruel, and merciless.
And he was dying inside.
He felt like he was falling apart. The Autobot in his processor had faded, but... he could feel parts of himself fading with the tactician.
He could feel the tactician's periodic panic, when he woke up and realized he couldn't remember. And Barricade... he felt that fear, and then continued feeling it even after the Autobot faded again.
There was part of him in the Autobot. Something he was losing. He knew Shockwave was pleased with what he was turning into, but the scientist still scared him. As time had passed, he had realized just what Shockwave was, and had grown to hate the purple cyclopes.
Panic was setting in. Digging deep into his spark. He didn't want to lose whatever it was. Even if it was Autobot in nature. It was part of him, and nobody would make him let it go!
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
Um... Autobot?
The words startled him out of the haze that was his existence these orns. Smokescreen stirred sluggishly.
… Barricade?
Yeah...
Smokescreen woke a little more, processes slowly clearing. What do you want?
I... I think.... I’m...
The tactician mentally shook himself. What is it, Barricade? You made it quite clear that you don't want me.
I don't, the Decepticon admitted. But... I’m... losing myself. I think... I need you. What's happening, Autobot?
Smokescreen “stared” at the Decepticon, examining him closely. The tone... it was that of a helpless, confused youngling pleading with its creator. This... pity rose in his spark, prompting a snarl from the Decepticon.
I don't need your pity! Then the anger abated. Sadness welled up in the shared spark. I don't know what I need anymore.
Smokescreen gently poked the consciousness of the 'Con. You need me. My programming. You were implanted... well... perhaps me showing you would be better?
You can do that?
I’m sure I can. Here.
A memory file was shoved into Barricade's thought processes, and he automatically played it.
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
He wasn't able to stop it. But frag it all if he just let it take over! He would hide himself in the program. Make sure there was still some of him alive. Something that could be saved.
He aligned his personality matrix with the new matrix that was being pushed into his processor, allowing his to be changed slightly, but in return, changing what was being forced on him. He would barricade himself away, keep himself safely hidden within his own processor.
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
I only wanted to survive, Smokescreen said, feeling rather embarrassed. He shook the feeling off. It was his frame! His mind! He had tried to do what anyone would try to do, just as he had said; survive.
I... Shockwave did this? He... That bastard! That sick, twisted, fragging glitch!
Smokescreen startled, shocked. What... you...
That... that's just sick.
It's war, Smokescreen retorted. The whole point is to get the upper hand, to defeat your enemy. By any means necessary.
Barricade just shook his helm, mentally and physically. He was in the privacy of his quarters. He could afford the odd gestures. It's still wrong.
You care about right and wrong?
When... when you're here, I do. When you aren't...
With a mental sigh, Smokescreen gave himself a mental shake. Well, let's work on that, shall we? I can teach you.
Thank you. But... what's your name? I can't just keep calling you “voice.”
Smokescreen chuckled. Smokescreen. Autobot diversionary tactician and former owner of the spark and frame you inhabit.
Barricade...
No “Decepticon” in there?
Not sure if there should be.
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
Smokescreen returned to something similar to what he had been all those vorns ago, becoming an active presence in Barricade's mind. They were always talking. Barricade more than the Autobot tactician, but they kept each other company.
Barricade kept up his violent persona as well as he could, even if it wasn't as much as it had been. He didn't start as many brawls, and if he could, he avoided killing Autobots. It took a bit of work - the coding had been deeply ingrained in the three vorns. But Smokescreen had specialized in defragging coding before the war, and they kept at it. Slowly, ever so slowly, the coding untangled.
They existed peacefully together. Barricade learned from Smokescreen, pulling all he could from the mech's memories, which the tactician shared openly now.
Hey... Who's this? Barricade asked one day after watching a very old memory, one of Praxus, back when Smokescreen was still a youngling. He looks familiar.
Hm? Oh. Prowl.
Prowl? As in, the mech all Decepticons fear?
Smokescreen chuckled. Yes, that Prowl. He's my brother. I...
You miss him.
Of course. He's my brother.
And I took you away from him.
Shockwave, Barricade. Shockwave took me away. Not you. I... You... you're innocent of that.
Barricade just kept watching as the black and white youngling played with his younger brother, a little smile on his pale faceplates.
Smokey?
Yes, 'Cade?
Do... Do you think there's any way I can get you back to that? The “and get something like that for myself” went unspoken, but they could both feel the Decepticon's yearning.
I don't know, Barricade. I don't know.
Rating: T
Continuity: Bastardized movieverse with G1 influence
Warnings: Shockwave being Shockwave, reprogramming
Chapter 4
Shockwave was confused. It was not a feeling he enjoyed. He liked to know what was happening around him. He liked to understand things. He didn't like it when he didn't know, didn't understand.
And Barricade's behavior was, at least, extremely confusing. Not suspicious. Just confusing.
Which just puzzled the old cyclopes even more.
The mech was acting even more vicious, tearing into anyone who even looked at him in the wrong way. He was a monster on the battlefield, ripping the Autobots apart, often literally. He was... he wasn't the youngling he had been. He wasn't as curious. He did as ordered without question. He didn't wonder. He was a closed off fighting machine.
Shockwave was, understandably, very pleased.
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
Smokescreen was laying low. Barricade hadn't taken his admission very well. Any time the Autobot spoke to him, he just growled and pretended the voice didn't exist.
It was driving Smokescreen absolutely crazy. He had been stuck as a simple voice before, but at least he had been able to talk to someone. Now, he was isolated and alone, stuck in his own processor, watching as the mech inhabiting his body vehemently accepted the violent Decepticon coding.
Even as the tactician frantically deleted all he could of the programming Shockwave had downloaded, the Decepticon was accepting it and integrating it just as enthusiastically.
Smokescreen constantly felt lost and depressed, and that was driving Barricade crazy.
Worse than that, though, was that he had nothing to do. He was... floating. He found himself periodically “waking up,” long blank spaces of memory behind him. He felt his own coding fading.
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
They held the stalemate for close to three vorns, in which Barricade became one of the most feared not-officer Decepticons. He was vicious, cruel, and merciless.
And he was dying inside.
He felt like he was falling apart. The Autobot in his processor had faded, but... he could feel parts of himself fading with the tactician.
He could feel the tactician's periodic panic, when he woke up and realized he couldn't remember. And Barricade... he felt that fear, and then continued feeling it even after the Autobot faded again.
There was part of him in the Autobot. Something he was losing. He knew Shockwave was pleased with what he was turning into, but the scientist still scared him. As time had passed, he had realized just what Shockwave was, and had grown to hate the purple cyclopes.
Panic was setting in. Digging deep into his spark. He didn't want to lose whatever it was. Even if it was Autobot in nature. It was part of him, and nobody would make him let it go!
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
Um... Autobot?
The words startled him out of the haze that was his existence these orns. Smokescreen stirred sluggishly.
… Barricade?
Yeah...
Smokescreen woke a little more, processes slowly clearing. What do you want?
I... I think.... I’m...
The tactician mentally shook himself. What is it, Barricade? You made it quite clear that you don't want me.
I don't, the Decepticon admitted. But... I’m... losing myself. I think... I need you. What's happening, Autobot?
Smokescreen “stared” at the Decepticon, examining him closely. The tone... it was that of a helpless, confused youngling pleading with its creator. This... pity rose in his spark, prompting a snarl from the Decepticon.
I don't need your pity! Then the anger abated. Sadness welled up in the shared spark. I don't know what I need anymore.
Smokescreen gently poked the consciousness of the 'Con. You need me. My programming. You were implanted... well... perhaps me showing you would be better?
You can do that?
I’m sure I can. Here.
A memory file was shoved into Barricade's thought processes, and he automatically played it.
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
He wasn't able to stop it. But frag it all if he just let it take over! He would hide himself in the program. Make sure there was still some of him alive. Something that could be saved.
He aligned his personality matrix with the new matrix that was being pushed into his processor, allowing his to be changed slightly, but in return, changing what was being forced on him. He would barricade himself away, keep himself safely hidden within his own processor.
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
I only wanted to survive, Smokescreen said, feeling rather embarrassed. He shook the feeling off. It was his frame! His mind! He had tried to do what anyone would try to do, just as he had said; survive.
I... Shockwave did this? He... That bastard! That sick, twisted, fragging glitch!
Smokescreen startled, shocked. What... you...
That... that's just sick.
It's war, Smokescreen retorted. The whole point is to get the upper hand, to defeat your enemy. By any means necessary.
Barricade just shook his helm, mentally and physically. He was in the privacy of his quarters. He could afford the odd gestures. It's still wrong.
You care about right and wrong?
When... when you're here, I do. When you aren't...
With a mental sigh, Smokescreen gave himself a mental shake. Well, let's work on that, shall we? I can teach you.
Thank you. But... what's your name? I can't just keep calling you “voice.”
Smokescreen chuckled. Smokescreen. Autobot diversionary tactician and former owner of the spark and frame you inhabit.
Barricade...
No “Decepticon” in there?
Not sure if there should be.
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
Smokescreen returned to something similar to what he had been all those vorns ago, becoming an active presence in Barricade's mind. They were always talking. Barricade more than the Autobot tactician, but they kept each other company.
Barricade kept up his violent persona as well as he could, even if it wasn't as much as it had been. He didn't start as many brawls, and if he could, he avoided killing Autobots. It took a bit of work - the coding had been deeply ingrained in the three vorns. But Smokescreen had specialized in defragging coding before the war, and they kept at it. Slowly, ever so slowly, the coding untangled.
They existed peacefully together. Barricade learned from Smokescreen, pulling all he could from the mech's memories, which the tactician shared openly now.
Hey... Who's this? Barricade asked one day after watching a very old memory, one of Praxus, back when Smokescreen was still a youngling. He looks familiar.
Hm? Oh. Prowl.
Prowl? As in, the mech all Decepticons fear?
Smokescreen chuckled. Yes, that Prowl. He's my brother. I...
You miss him.
Of course. He's my brother.
And I took you away from him.
Shockwave, Barricade. Shockwave took me away. Not you. I... You... you're innocent of that.
Barricade just kept watching as the black and white youngling played with his younger brother, a little smile on his pale faceplates.
Smokey?
Yes, 'Cade?
Do... Do you think there's any way I can get you back to that? The “and get something like that for myself” went unspoken, but they could both feel the Decepticon's yearning.
I don't know, Barricade. I don't know.