If You're Reading This

Transformers One Shot


A/N: This is a one-shot for Mercedes Wolfcry, using her character Nightstrider. Hope you like it! R&R


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I could feel it coming. The anger. The hatred. The restlessness.

The insanity.

I let Ratchet know fairly quickly after I first started to feel it creeping in on me. He did the usual scans of my spark and processor, checking to make sure that everything was in working order. He said that he didn't see anything wrong, or abnormal. So, he released me from the med bay. He swore that it was just my imagination; that I was dreading the thought of turning against my friends, my family, so much that I was forcing myself to believe that it was actually happening.

Too bad he was wrong, for once. Of course, it would happen. The one time he would just so happen to be wrong, it would be about this. The twins could tell something was wrong with me, but as usual they let me deal with my own problems. For that, I was thankful. They didn't need to be wrapped up in this.

Of course, when I started to pull away from them – from everybody – things turned a little bit…messy.

"Come on, Princess," Sideswipe pleaded, trying to get me to go with them. "Why won't you come?" The twins had gotten the brilliant idea of going on a nice, long drive, and they wanted me to go with them. I still didn't trust myself. I could feel the darkness creeping up on my mind.

"I just don't want to, 'Sides," I told him tiredly. He had been trying for ten minutes to get me to acquiesce. He was really starting to get on my fucking nerves.

"But, Prin-" I stood up abruptly, cutting him off.

"Sideswipe, what part of 'I don't want to do you not process?" I screeched at him. "Just leave me the fuck alone!" I shouted as I slapped him across the faceplates. I didn't see the shocked and extremely hurt look he was giving me as I stormed from the room.

That stupid, idiotic mech. Why couldn't he leave me alone, huh? Was it that hard to see that I didn't want to be bothered, especially with the likes of him, of all bots. A scowl was set firmly on my face, making anybody I passed – bot or human – move quickly out of my way.

"Nightstrider," the voice of Sunstreaker stopped me in my tracks. Growling slightly, I whirled around to face him, my servos crossed in front of me.

"What the fuck do you want?" I spat out. He reeled back in shock, hurt spreading over his features. That's right, these idiotic fuckers weren't used to me yelling at them.

"Err, I just wanted to know what was up with you?" He asked, resting his weight on one leg and crossing his servos across his chassis. "It's not like you to be so….angry."

"Yeah, well in case you haven't noticed, things haven't exactly been going my way recently," I snarled. Damn, my processor was starting to hurt. Wincing slightly, I rubbed at my helm, trying to get rid of the ache.

"Strider, babe, what's wrong?" Sunny asked as he made to move closer. Growling at him, I stopped the obnoxiously yellow mech in his tracks.

"Stay the fuck away from me."

"But-" Screw this, I didn't want to hear any more. Spinning around, I stalked off quickly not caring about the shouts of protest that went on beneath me. I heard Sunstreaker growl angrily before a yellow hand descended on my shoulder, spinning me around. "Damn it, Nightstr-" he was cut off, however, when I leapt at him.

Giving off a metallic screech, I pounced on top of him, our metal bodies loudly crashing together. Bringing back my fist, I brought it down on his face. The yellow twin screeched in anger – most likely at his precious paint job being ruined – and rolled us over so that he was on top. Grabbing my wrists in one hand, he hovered over me, ignoring the fight I was putting up.

"What the frag is wrong with you!" he yelled, eyes glowing brightly. Snarling, I brought up my feet and dug my claws into his stomach. Howling in pain, he pushed himself off of me, clutching the gashes I had made in his sensitive stomach plating. "My paint!"

My only answer was a metallic growl as I crouched down low, preparing for another attack. How dare he touch me! No one touched me! Absolutely no one! Not now, not after what had happened. Not after being rejected so brutally.

A vision entered my processor then, of all the bots and humans I had called friends, and even some I had considered family, all dead. All lying around the base in various positions, dripping with their vital fluids. Human organs, intestines, stomachs, hearts, smeared across the concrete walls and floors like some sort of artistic masterpiece. Energon lines, vital to a bots survival, hung from the ceilings, as if streamers for a birthday party. The glowing blue liquid that was my blood, our blood, mixed in with the human's, creating a strangely beautiful purple color.

I had done it.

And I had loved it.

Shaking myself free of my thoughts, I looked up into the optics of a concerned Sunstreaker, Ratchet right beside him. Snarling under my breath, I backed away from the two. I knew that whatever it was they had planned for me, I wasn't going to like it. The CMO took a step closer for every step I backed away. He held a suspicious looking syringe in his fingers.

"Nightstrider, come here," he demanded softly. He was acting as if the slightest commotion would make me go ballistic. Well, you're too late, medic, I'm already there.

"Fuck off," I rasped, flipping him the finger. My claws extended and I kneaded the floors, my fingers leaving gauges in the concrete. Digging my toes in, I launched myself at the two. They were in my way. They needed to die. I needed to get away. Did I need to die, too? Is that what my body was telling me? I didn't know; didn't care. All I knew was that those two were hindering my progress. Progress with what, I wasn't sure.

The bright yellow bot – who was he again? - quickly grabbed me, turning my back to him and holding me tightly. I was unable to move, to get away. I vaguely heard Ratchet call for Optimus. Who was Optimus? Did I know him? What could he do to stop me? Stop me from killing everybody. It was what they deserved, after all. They all deserved to die, to suffer. To feel as much pain as I did.

A large mech came hurrying in to wherever we were. I felt vague recognition at the sight of him, but could bother with trying to remember. All I wanted was to get out of the hold I was in. They needed to suffer.

The large, regal mech stopped short at the sight of my struggling form. Pain flashed through his optics before they hardened. I grinned maliciously at him, flashing my teeth. "You need to suffer!" I screeched. Somehow I managed to get out of the hold the vain bot was holding me in and I immediately launched myself at their leader. After all, who else could he be?

Surprise flashed quickly through his eyes, a battle mask sliding into place. As I landed on him - or he caught me, I wasn't sure which – pain shot through me. I looked into the eyes of the mech that was now holding me up with the help of his plasma sword that was through my chest cavity, and saw only intense grief.

"P-papa?" I asked. Why was I here? Why was Papa stabbing me? What did I do? Then it hit me. The insanity. I had figuratively gone off the deep end.

"Strider…" Papa said weakly, dropping down to his knees and cradling me in his large arms, removing his weapon from my body. "Strider, why…" I coughed up Energon, leaving a trail of it to slide down my cheek.

"Papa…I'm sorry," I told him sadly, warning lights flashing off to the side of my vision. He shook his head, and I could see tears welling up in his optics. Elita came rushing into the room, dropping down beside me with a gasp.

"Strider…" she whispered, her voice full of nothing but despair.

"W-will you guys bury me in Oregon?" I asked softly, feeling my systems start to shut down one by one. I knew there was no saving me. This was what I wanted, after all. I was finally going to be going home. Who knew, maybe I would see my real mother again.

"Of course, baby girl, of course," Papa whispered softly, choking on his words. I saw Sideswipe and Sunstreaker off to the side, their cheeks becoming stained with Energon tears even though they still had on their tough warrior facades. I smiled slightly as a thought hit me.

"It'll be okay, guys. I'm just going home, after all."

And then, it was over. Darkness entered my vision, and the last thing I saw was of Optimus and Elita, crying together, as my life finally left me. There would be no going back, this time. I was gone for good. But, maybe, it was better this way. I wouldn't have to fight anymore. I could finally lay down my guns and be in peace.

Forever.