We're all going to deactivate.
That was Dead End's motto. But morbid as it was, it made Breakdown feel a bit better, because they were all going to deactivate, so he wouldn't be left alone in a world that was out to get him.
Until, of course, the world was literally out to get them.
It was supposed to be a simple battle, but, somehow, it turned into everyone for himself.
Autobots versus Autobots, Decepticons against Decepticons… and, slowly, all were falling to the hate-ruled craziness.
Breakdown is whimpering quite loudly, but he can still hear the taunts and snarls of his brothers outside his forcefield, struggling to crack it and get to him, as mad as the rest of creatures all around him.
And then, Wildrider elbows Drag Strip, and they turn against each other, clawing and punching and trying with all their might to deactivate their brother.
Motormaster isn't with them, he's off somewhere to smash Autobots.
So that just leaves Dead End.
And Breakdown can feel his forcefield weaken and weaken and—
As soon as it breaks, he loses his mind.
Only to recover it with a flash, the pain of his damaged frame not too far behind.
There are mechs around him, all damaged in some way, and looking confused as to what happened.
But, for once, Breakdown can see no one is staring at him.
In a mix of relief and pain, he lets his frame fall to his knees—into a puddle of Energon.
Somewhat numb, he looks up, and horror makes his spark stop pulsing.
Because the Energon is Dead End's.
The Gestalt bond is thrown open with a plea for help, and he can feel his other brothers all tense and worry, but the pessimist mech keeps his end firmly blocked.
So, Breakdown crawls to his side and clenches a limp servo between his and tries to find what is leaking so badly, only to see the Energon is flowing from all possible seams.
His internals have been… wrecked…
As if the white and blue Stunticon had used his destructive vibrations on his own brother.
Dead End clenches his servos softly, and, despite the pain and fear—I don't want to deactivate—he still manages to give him a tiny smile—I don't blame you.
And, with that expression on his faceplate, his visor goes black and his color scheme turns gray.
We're all going to deactivate.
Breakdown can only think traitor.
AN: From the combination of the prompts and characters Breakdown: Betrayal and Dead End: Broken Promise. Obviously, this is an AU of the G1 episodes The Return of Optimus Prime (and yes, I know there are inconsistences because I haven't seen them in years, so, if you want, you can just say it's about an outbreak of the Hate Plague instead).
Once more, I must apologize for my absence... Slagging bad habit to have...
On other news, I've an idea both for a couple new stories (not good, seeing I have many unfinished ones) and for Half the Truth and, maybe, even for (re-written) Sunrise. Bad news, of course, is that I'm currently struggling with Cybertronian Survival Guide and Code of Ghost. Go figure -.-
That said, I hope my plans go undisturbed this time, and let me post soon... Wish me luck.