Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the interpretation of events.

A/N: This is very short angst-fest, written in half a day, which is shockingly fast for me. Not beta-ed, because I can't find/keep beta-reader to save my life.

That whole mess with Red Alert going mad - did anyone ever wonder who's fault was that?


Matter of trust

Inferno entered the security room with a data pad in his hand and puzzlement on his face.
"Hey, Red, did ya see that?" he asked, waving the pad. "Huffer is assigned to be your backup for the next..." his voice trailed of as he checked the schedules again, "three Earth months! That's as far as the whole schedule goes!"

Red Alert didn't move his gaze from the monitors. "I'm aware of it," he said in a clipped tone, which should have given Inferno a clue, but was obviously misinterpreted.
"You couldn't talk Prowl out of it, eh?" Inferno asked lightly, leaning against the nearest console. "What did you do to piss him off? Or was it Huffer who rated the sentence?"
Red Alert frowned lightly. It was a joke, he told himself. Silly little old joke, that somehow wasn't funny anymore.
"Neither Huffer nor I consider our respective company a 'sentence'," he said dryly. "And I specifically asked Prowl for that assignment."

Inferno's elbow slid off the console in a rather ungraceful stagger. "What? Why?"

Red Alert's gaze jumped to him for a second, and returned hastily to its designated task. "I spend most of my on-duty time watching the security screens," he said, calmly and patiently, as if he was explaining this to a stranger, not a person who knew all this already.
"Oftentimes I analyze input from over two hundred different cameras. It's a wearing task, and sometimes it makes me loose focus on my immediate surroundings. That's why I need someone to tell me if there's Megatron aiming at my back while I give all my attention to the monitors, making sure everyone else is safe."
"Man, I know that!" Inferno balanced nicely between indignation and confusion.

"Then it shouldn't be a surprise for you. I discussed it with Prowl and he agreed that I should have one of Autobots assigned as my backup."
"Aw, come on, Red, that's what I'm for! Ya know you can always count on me to guard your back!"

Red Alert's optics blazed. He'd intended to settle this matter calmly and professionally. But the sudden sense of bitterness was too much to bear.
"Can I? Can I really?" he snapped, whirling to face the startled warrior. "You keep saying this, Inferno, but that's just words. I've analyzed the entire period of our partnership, and it seems to me that you are only 'there for me', when 'there' happens to be someplace exciting. Like the battlefield, or a burning building. But not a boring control room with its boring screens!"
"What? Red, what are you talking about?"
"What am I--?" Red Alert almost choked. "Do you remember last week, Inferno? I was this close," he raised a hand and measured a space not wider than an inch with his thumb and forefinger. "This close to killing people I consider friends. Whom I dedicated my life to protecting." He shut off his optics and cycled air, stomping hard on the panic bubbling at the mere memory of what almost happened.

Inferno was gaping at him, surprised at the sudden turn in conversation as much as at unexpected ferociousness. But seeing his friend's shut optics and obvious distress, he lurched forward, sprouting words he though would bring comfort. "Hey, whoa, easy Red, you were glitched, t'wasn't your fault--"
Red Alert snapped his optics online and narrowed them angrily. "Yes, that's what everyone's been telling me. 'Not your fault, Red Alert, you were malfunctioning. Could have happened to anyone.'"

Inferno backed a step. It wasn't often he'd seen Red Alert snarling. And never at him.
"What they all forget or don't know," the security director continued, "is why I was... 'glitched'... in the first place." He cycled air, squared his shoulders and tried to school his expression. "Do you know why, Inferno?" he asked calmly.

"Er... I'm 'fraid you lost me there," Inferno said, both relived and uneasy to see his friend acting normal again after the short outburst.
"One of Decepticons' missiles made it into the bunker I was guarding. It would have been easy to intercept if I noticed it, but I was focused on my boring screens and I didn't. I just noticed a swish of air, and then I was lying injured on the floor, trapped under a piece of ceiling."
Inferno opened his mouth to say something comforting, but Red Alert wasn't done yet.
"I should have contacted Optimus and ask for assistance right then, but I didn't consider it necessary. After all, I had backup."

"Oh." Inferno rubbed his neck sheepishly, finally realizing where this was going. "Look, I--"
"I called for you to help me," Red Alert continued as if the other never spoke. "You were nearby after all, you had to be, I asked you to stay with me, didn't I? I couldn't understand why you weren't coming. Were you injured, trapped somewhere same as I was, or already deactivated?" He paused for a moment. His optics shone the coldest blue of the Arctic. "I called for you until my vocalizer shorted, but you simply wasn't there."

Seconds of silence ticked by. Finally Inferno closed his mouth. And then opened it again. "Red, I'm so--"
"Don't." Red Alert held up a finger, silencing him with the gesture as well as the icy tone. "It wasn't the first time you abandoned your post as my backup, Inferno. It just was the first time it held serious consequences." He cycled air tiredly. "And in the end, it was my fault. This whole mess happened simply because I put my trust in the wrong bot."

Inferno's optics widened in shock and he took a step back. He looked as if he'd just been slapped, and that's how he felt. "Red... are you saying you don't trust me?"
"Yes." Red Alert turned back to his screens. "I value your company Inferno, but I can't afford having a partner whom I can't rely on."
"But..."
"I believe we both have duties to attend to."
"Red..."
Silence.
"I..."
"Your shift begins in a breem, Inferno."

Silence.

Footsteps.

A hiss of closing door.