Let the Chalice Blaze
by SMYGO4EVA
He turned around, and there she went. It seemed like eons ago, before the war had torn them all apart (when one didn't need to choose a side).
It had been eons. It continued to lead all astray from what was there before.
They had stolen passing glances to each other before the chaos, feelings untold and unspoken (covert and under the cover of darkness, silent conversations).
Ratchet never imagined it, but he knew that Flamewar held the same feelings for him. Their allegiances couldn't be any different, cut in twain. They set those feelings aside, like they were nothing.
Those same feelings eroded, became nothing, as soon as they chose sides: one became an Autobot, the other a Decepticon.
The silence was comfortable. Despite the circumstance, there was no need for words, for what was already said and done.
Now, however: Ratchet tried not to crumble down. Flamewar didn't move. There was no denying anything now; they had chosen their paths. What else was there to be said or to be done?
"I had thought that we would meet again," Ratchet whispered as he lent out his servo to Flamewar. She remained still, only a harsh light in her optics.
"But not like this…"