Title: Our New Divide
Rating: T
Summary: Sam receives a solid B for his genealogy report which means no car for the 17 year old Witwicky. That's okay; he now has an F-22 perched on his lawn instead.
A.N.: Alright boys and girls, this is a basically a full on collision between the Shattered Glass universe and our beloved Bayformers. Yes, basically it's Autobots in place of the Decepticons and vice versa with everything else neatly in place... or not. You'll have to read and find out won't you? Would appreciate it if you left a review at the end thanks :d
The title is a WIP, I don't know why it is.
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"Frag," Barricade swore as his shoulder erupted into a shower of sparks before disconnecting from the rest of his body. The severed limb fell to the earth, narrowly missing his companion who began shrieking in indignation at the lack of warning. "Oh shut up," Barricade said irritably at the smaller mech, "I got us this far haven't I?" an indecipherable jabber, "Need to call..." he cocked his head in confusion and groaned loudly as he fell to his knees. "The slagger disabled my communications array. Frag!"
Frenzy looked up at him dubiously, a single crimson optic scanning the police cruiser as his feet danced nervously in place. He scrambled up the other mech's side, mindful of the open fuse lines and circuitry that were still sparking. He began to chatter again, most of which went unheeded by the larger mech. Frustrated at the lack of assistance, he kicked Barricade's head—eliciting an angry snarl—and hooked himself up to the other Decepticon.
Barricade's processor settled into an uneasy standby as Frenzy maneuvered the massive body into the shadows. He cut off the flow of energon attempting to fuel the missing left servo and directed it towards areas that wouldn't lead to the mech bleeding out before help arrived. Noting that the damage to Barricade's communications array was beyond his repairing capabilities and would possibly lift with time, he pulled himself back, tapping his nimble fingers against the side of the other Decepticon's head. Barricade barely stirred—not a good sign. With a repressed sigh that could have only been inherited from his creator, he opened his own communication line and set an encrypted message to go out every half-breem.
He had barely managed to close off the major ruptures when Starscream arrived.
"Are you two insane?" The taller mech hissed, turning swiveling his hawkish face to see that they were alone. Barricade's optics brightened at the grated words, wincing at the underlying whine following them. "Even humans could intercept that message!" Faint flickers of light at his throat confirmed vocal processor damage—something that hadn't been there when the seeker had taken off that morning. Frenzy stared at him accusingly with his unsettlingly red optics. "You look like slag Barricade."
"Speak for yourself 'Screamer, you ain't looking that hot yourself either."
Starscream scowled at the nickname as he approached the wounded cruiser.
"Where were the two of you?"
"Frag, easy there, injured mech remember?" Barricade complained as he was stretched out on the ground. "Aren't you the one who's always going on and on about security? Are you sure you want to do this here?" the shorter Decepticon looked around warily at the surroundings. The piles of scrap metal and other junk would provide them some camouflage and alert them if anyone approached on foot but the damage on Starscream's armor suggested that the jet had tangled with some unfriendly aerial assault—unfriendly Autobot aerial assault to be precise, Barricade corrected himself grimly.
"Fool," Starscream replied terse, "have you been ignoring all system errors? Jazz got you good, external injuries, you're missing a limb, your left knee is about to give out, your communications array has been compromised, and you're bleeding to death, have I missed anything?"
Barricade feigned momentary concentration,
"How'd you figure it was Jazz? And no, think you've got them all but I'm going to ignore you all the same... SLAGGIT!!"
Barricade's body arched from its position on the ground, nearly breaking his backstrut in two. Frenzy tumbled down his chassis and into Starscream's awaiting talons. Frowning, the seeker picked the cassette up and placed him near the legs where he wouldn't get in the way.
"Answer the question,"
"Fine, fine! They're moving now, they know where the cube is... or they will soon enough anyways... and Optimus Prime." Starscream's hands paused momentarily, a tangle of fuses caught in his hands. Barricade felt the barest squeeze through the circuitry and felt himself cringe in mortal peril—just a little bit, never mind that the Decepticon second-in-command was a near pacifist. The mech hadn't been sure how the seeker would take to the discovery of his former benefactor but true to form, Starscream did not let anything slip and merely sighed before smoothing the lines back beneath his armor.
"They will...?" The taller Decepticon repeated flatly, "They do not have the location yet?"
"Don't sound so disappointed 'Screamer." A cord was ripped out with a rather vindictive pull. "It's because the humans don't know what the slag they have! The location is inscribed on a human relic. The human called Ladiesman217 possesses it currently."
"Will you be able to approach this... Ladiesman217?"
"With this form, I can approach anybody." Barricade boasted earning a skeptical look from the Decepticon second in command. The cruiser looked down at himself, noting that his fans had yet to shut off and there were incriminating sparks flaring from the oddest places. Oh and his paintjob was gone, his siren having fallen off sometime between the road and the junk yard--bye-bye days of playfully scaring human beings.
In the eyes of his comrades, the Chief Science Officer seemed to wilt upon himself.
Starscream sighed gustily,
"He couldn't have sent Blackout for this..."
"Cheer up 'Screamer," Barricade tried to grin through his dental plates. "'S not so bad."
-
Elsewhere,
"Well..." his father said, with barely disguised glee now that he wouldn't have to shell out measly two grand for the social welfare of his only child. "There's always next year right?"
Sam answered that question in the way only a teenager could when being denied one of their fundamental wants, he ignored his father and stared out the window for the entire car ride.