I own nothing but the plot
A friend and I decided "hey, we're bored and we have nothing to do. Let's write a slag-ton of angst-like things. More to come and these aren't just gonna be transformers ships. Sherlock, Supernatural, maybe Doctor Who, maybe Avengers or just Marvel in general, and more ships inbound. Sorry for anyone who's looking at this because you actually think my other stories are decent. I apologize for my crappy writing before-hand. Have fun.
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The glowing blue substance leaked from the wound directly over Megatron’s spark chamber, the same energon covered the sharp weapon protruding from a seemingly shrunken autobot leader. The large blue and red bot blinked once, twice, then recoiled away from the cooling body as if he had been punched. The mech clutched at his spark chamber, seemingly trying to pull the armor off as he let out a scream of agony. Ratchet rushed forwards, unable to do anything as the mech fell to the ground in front of him. “Optimus!” He shouted, reaching a servo out helplessly.
“NO!” The autobot roared as his spark chamber opened to show the golden matrix inside, sparking dangerously. The bot reached inside his chest components, ripping the now useless but dangerous metal away from his spark. He dropped the gold-like metal next to the medic and he fell onto his arms and knees, venting heavily. The ice-like optics seemed to melt to an ocean blue as the mech regained control of his venting. The now soft optics flickered around, settling on the white and red medic before focusing on the body behind him. “...Ratchet?” The mech asked hesitantly.
“Optimus?” Ratchet questioned, grabbing his chin, while turning his helm so he could stare at a pair of optics full of innocence that he hadn’t seen in many, many vorns.
“...Who?” The autobots recoiled at their leader’s words, optics wide. “Ratchet, where are we?”
“Orion?!” Ratchet all but shouted. Said mech looked down at his servos, intakes stalling as he saw the energon that covered them. It obviously wasn’t his.
“...Megatronus…?” The mech whispered almost too quietly for the old medic to hear even with his sharp hearing that had improved after vorns and vorns of war. The medic flinched, unable to stop the large mech from shoving him away. Orion raced to Megatron’s limp body, his non-weaponized servo reaching for the cold mech. “Nonononononono.” The words blurred together as coolant welled up in his optics.
“Orion-”
“Did- did I- did I do this?” The mech whispered, staring down at his servos as he saw the energon covering them an entirely new way. Especially the glowing blue that was beginning to dry on his sword.
“Of course no-”
“Did I do this?!” The mech sobbed, intakes stalling a bit and his vents hiccuping with every drop of coolant that trailed down his faceplate. The sword retracted and a servo replaced the weapon, and Orion clutched at the clawed servo in front of him.
“It wasn’t you. Not entirely.” Ratchet whispered, knowing that it wouldn’t matter if Orion had been in control of himself or not.
“Why…? Why?” The mech cried, grasping at the silver and red chest. No, silver and purple. When had that happened.
“A lot has happened since you accepted the matrix…” Ratchet stared at the now useless shining metal next to him. “Orion, that isn’t your gladiator. That’s Megatron, leader of the decepticons, warlord of cybertron, a cold blooded killer. Pit, you’ve been fighting since the war started.”
“I-is this because I accepted the offer of Prime?” Orion wasn’t stupid. He had seen Megatronus storm out of the room. He never thought it would lead to war, though. “He could’ve been saved. He could’ve been. Not Megatronus. Not him.” Orion whispered, mostly to himself. Memories of before the war flashed in front of his optics. Waiting for his mech after the gladiator fights, Megatronus moving into his homing unit, his bonding offer. Orion choked on nothing at the memories, an entirely new wave of pain washed over the mech.
“Orion…” Ratchet trailed off, nearing the mech. A mech who had an almost bonded die would be dangerous.
“Get away from us!” Orion screamed between pain filled sobs. Ratchet’s hand shifted and changed until a needle was visible. He dashed at Orion, jabbing the needle into the back of his neck. Orion’s vents stuttered before his optics offlined quickly, indicating the codes injected into his systems worked. Bulkhead neared the two bots, completely silent for once. He picked Orion up gently before turning to Ratchet, pain etched into his optics. Pain he rarely allowed others to see. He understood what Orion was going through.
“Poor mech.” He mumbled before walking through the groundbridge that led back to their base.
YOU ARE READING
The Book Of Angst
FanfictionWhat will eventually turn into a steaming pot of angst. Sorry for the crappy cover I only have a mouse and paint.