Darkness

Ch.14 Melody

A/N: Holy crap guys, I am in so many English classes this semester, and I am horrible at managing my writing schedule. Someone save me. But we're thriving! I mean, we're not thriving, but I am allowed to lie to myself, it is spooky season after all. There's nothing more spooky than destructive coping strategies.

Anyways, thanks for sticking with me. I hope you guys have a good Halloween!

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Trigger warning: Depictions/mentions of injury and death. Potentially sensitive material will be placed between ▶▶ and ◀◀

Brainstorm wasn't kidding when he said that my dad's team was taking forever. All Misdirect and I could do was sit back and wait, which wasn't as great as I thought it'd be. I expected myself to be relieved by a break but the silence only made me jumpy. I couldn't ignore that Ravage's attack was contributing to the feeling; every shadow or movement in the corner of my eye felt like another potential attack. I couldn't get his red glowing eyes out of my head.

I also couldn't keep my mind off what my dad had said: "Pulling something apart, and putting it back together somewhere else." Except, according to Brainstorm, that wasn't how it worked at all. Of course, I didn't blame my dad's team for keeping their super classified secrets from my random teenage self, and I knew it was such a small detail to begin with, but I had to admit it still bothered me that Dad had lied in the first place. I'd rather he had just not told me anything. Had he lied about anything else?

My stomach felt hollow, my food was dwindling and despite two more attempts by Ratchet and Brainstorm at making food, none had proved edible yet. The last one I tried had been so hard I had not even been able to crack off a piece. I didn't think I would feel so hungry so soon after only missing two meals, but here I was.

I sighed. There were too many thoughts. I swear I was missing the utter chaos that was Swerve's bar, even if it had taken its toll; I gingerly touched the goose egg still throbbing on my head.

Misdirect was leaning against the table with his arms crossed, watching Brainstorm and Perceptor work.

"What's going to happen to Ravage?" I said.

"Why?" He asked.

"I dunno."

"Ultra Magnus will probably do a few interrogations, and then the runt will probably stay shut up in the brig. I promise he won't be crawling around anymore."

I nodded, picking at my bandages.

When he looked at me it was clear he was perplexed, "What's on your mind, Fella?"

"He's just as much of a person as you are, right? He talks and thinks and stuff?"

"Yeah, of course," He said.

"He isn't going to be tortured, or killed, is he?"

Misdirect frowned, "He tried to kill you."

"He just wanted my phone. It wasn't personal." I admit it did feel just a little personal; my wounds still felt warm and sore underneath the bandages.

"Trust me, the Decepticons are no good," He said. "Magnus will keep things handled. Don't worry about Ravage."

I wasn't sure if my stomach twisted from unease or from hunger. Did they have their own laws for war ethics or any giant-robot Geneva Conventions? I couldn't help but feel a bit fearful for Ravage. Sure, he had attacked me, but he was also alone on his enemy's ship. I unfortunately felt myself relating: running through the ship before meeting Misdirect had been one of the most terrifying moments of my life. Maybe Ravage had just been desperate, and who could blame him for that?