Cadefic!
Barricade was tired. He’d been alone for months now, and he missed the spastic never-ending chatter of his partner, even if he’d never admit it.
He’d found the badly injured Frenzy at the dam, and repaired him as best he could. But Frenzy didn’t wake up. Barricade had told himself to wait, to have patience, that it could be weeks before Frenzy’s self-repair systems fixed all the inner damage.
At first, Frenzy had improved. The spliced wiring knitted back together, and the cracks in his armor had begun to fuse… but Frenzy stayed offline. A month passed, then two. By the end of the third month, Barricade was losing hope. Everything seemed to be working, all his diagnostic checks coming back good, but Frenzy wouldn’t wake up.
By the end of the fourth month, Barricade knew he had to make a choice. Frenzy wasn’t coming back by himself, no matter how long he waited. Either he gave up and left Frenzy behind, or get him to a medic.
Well, at least I know where to find one, he had thought with a dark sort of humor.
Two months had passed since Ratchet returned to his medbay one evening to find Frenzy laid out on a table. Barricade hadn’t gone back; the possibility of finding Frenzy dead hurt too much.
He was lonely. There, he’d admitted it to himself. He was alone and he didn’t like it.
He’d toyed with the idea of hunting the Witwicky boy down, but discarded it. It wouldn’t change anything. Megatron would still be dead, Starscream would still be a coward, Frenzy would still be gone, and he’d still be alone.
That was the state of mind he found himself when he came across Blake. Cornering a human and transforming to terrify them into wetting themselves was an amusement he couldn’t afford to indulge anymore, with the Autobots undoubtedly hunting for him. He’d made due with frustrating and confusing the local police when he came across them; slipping up on them so it would seem he’d suddenly appeared, then losing them in traffic. Half of them seemed to think he was a ghost, the other half an elaborate prank.
Barricade had more of the same in mind when he snuck up on Officer Blake’s patrol car, only to find Blake on the ground, with a man pointing a gun at his head.
The shock and fear on the attacker’s face when he flipped on his lights and siren had been the most amusement he’d had in weeks.
Barricade tried not to think about why he radioed the police station with the address, just like he tried not to think about why, a month later with the loneliness and silence eating at him, he answered when the officer asked for his name.
And he certainly wasn’t going to think about what he was doing in the middle of the police parking lot, listening to the old human in charge of the department.
“Come on, I’m only asking you to change two words. Two! It’s not like you’re actually doing any enslaving, anyway…”
He’d found the badly injured Frenzy at the dam, and repaired him as best he could. But Frenzy didn’t wake up. Barricade had told himself to wait, to have patience, that it could be weeks before Frenzy’s self-repair systems fixed all the inner damage.
At first, Frenzy had improved. The spliced wiring knitted back together, and the cracks in his armor had begun to fuse… but Frenzy stayed offline. A month passed, then two. By the end of the third month, Barricade was losing hope. Everything seemed to be working, all his diagnostic checks coming back good, but Frenzy wouldn’t wake up.
By the end of the fourth month, Barricade knew he had to make a choice. Frenzy wasn’t coming back by himself, no matter how long he waited. Either he gave up and left Frenzy behind, or get him to a medic.
Well, at least I know where to find one, he had thought with a dark sort of humor.
Two months had passed since Ratchet returned to his medbay one evening to find Frenzy laid out on a table. Barricade hadn’t gone back; the possibility of finding Frenzy dead hurt too much.
He was lonely. There, he’d admitted it to himself. He was alone and he didn’t like it.
He’d toyed with the idea of hunting the Witwicky boy down, but discarded it. It wouldn’t change anything. Megatron would still be dead, Starscream would still be a coward, Frenzy would still be gone, and he’d still be alone.
That was the state of mind he found himself when he came across Blake. Cornering a human and transforming to terrify them into wetting themselves was an amusement he couldn’t afford to indulge anymore, with the Autobots undoubtedly hunting for him. He’d made due with frustrating and confusing the local police when he came across them; slipping up on them so it would seem he’d suddenly appeared, then losing them in traffic. Half of them seemed to think he was a ghost, the other half an elaborate prank.
Barricade had more of the same in mind when he snuck up on Officer Blake’s patrol car, only to find Blake on the ground, with a man pointing a gun at his head.
The shock and fear on the attacker’s face when he flipped on his lights and siren had been the most amusement he’d had in weeks.
Barricade tried not to think about why he radioed the police station with the address, just like he tried not to think about why, a month later with the loneliness and silence eating at him, he answered when the officer asked for his name.
And he certainly wasn’t going to think about what he was doing in the middle of the police parking lot, listening to the old human in charge of the department.
“Come on, I’m only asking you to change two words. Two! It’s not like you’re actually doing any enslaving, anyway…”