Disclaimer: do not own Beast Wars/Machines.
Summary: Drabble, AU, Beast Machines. He hopes that he isn't a lie, because then that would make his love a lie. And loving her is the only truth he's known.
Pairing: Blackarachnia x Silverbolt, one-sided Jetstorm x Blackarachnia. Because I've never seen it done.
Dark Knight
It had been annoying at first. The persistent she-spider kept following him around, outright refusing to attack him (which took out a lot of the fun of the chase), all the while calling him that name.
Silverbolt.
Silver-bolt.
S-i-l-v-e-r-b-o-l-t.
He'd been annoyed and then absently amused. The spider's interest in him seemed to tick Thrust off a little (so it was immediately worthwhile), and if it meant that she didn't attack him with the intention of destroying him…well, that meant a step closer to his lord's victory.
He snorted. His lord. His master. No longer, no more.
She…she stuck him in organic mess. It was very romantic (shut up, it was). It had brought back memories; memories that he didn't know were his. And though he had escaped her web, he had not escaped her.
He liked to think that there was something more than organic goop for what he felts towards Blackarachnia. He was good at deception; it was what he did. But still, he'd rather it be the truth…
To say that she was disappointed that the formula didn't seem to work was an understatement. He still looked and acted like Jetstorm.
He was Jetstorm…but he was someone else too. Bit by bit, unseen by the Generals or by Megatron himself, something in him awoken.
He had fought against it, railed against it. Every sentimental feeling he had towards Blackarachnia he had blamed towards this virus. He doubled in his efforts to harm her…
But then he harmed himself. He loved her, he did, he did. And Silverbolt and Optimus Primal and Megatron be slagged.
And so he joined her.
She still looked for Silverbolt, though, an act that at once angered and saddened him. He loved her, was that not enough?
But it saddened him too, because he could not give her the one thing that would make her happy.
The Silverbolt that she longed for and that she fought for was gentle, and clumsy, and kind. Everything that he was not. He was the flip side of the coin.
Jetstorm or Silverbolt? Silverbolt or Jetstorm?
Each was as real as the other, no matter what Blackarachnia insisted.
People made excuses like that all the time, saying that they were tricked, saying that they were reprogrammed, saying that it was someone else entirely who did such-and-such acts.
But he knew better.
Jetstorm was Silverbolt. Silverbolt was Jetstorm.
He hoped that he wasn't just a summary of being programmed, reprogrammed, and then reprogrammed some more.
He hoped that he wasn't a lie, because then that would make his love a lie. And loving her was the only truth he's known.
He hoped that he got out of his angsty funk some time soon, because this was getting boring.
He has everything that Silverbolt, her white knight, has. He has his memories, he has his fighting prowess, his strength, his loyalty (okay, so his loyalty was misplaced at first, big whoop), and his scrapping spark, for Primus' sake!
He has his love for her.
Most importantly, he has his own love for her, and it gratifies him that that, at least, is something that Silverbolt can never deny.
But as he watched her sleeping, sighing that name that was his but wasn't, he knew that he would never have the one thing that counted.
